Finding Universal Basic Purpose in the Age of AGI

Two years ago, I started messing around with AI tools. At first, it was out of curiosity. Then it got weird. Tools that could write pitch decks, generate voiceovers, cut trailers, even spit out decent screenplay outlines. And not in five months, in five minutes.

That’s when it hit me: this isn’t a novelty. It’s a transformation. And maybe a slow-motion demolition.

I’ve spent my life writing stories. TV, games, movies. Now the same tech that lets me prototype a story faster could one day replace the job entirely. Not just for me, but for millions of people who thought they had “creative” or “safe” careers.

So, like many people, I started asking: if the machines can do the job, what do we do?

Work isn’t just about money. It’s how we organize our days, prove we matter, stay connected. Strip that away, and people lose more than income—they lose identity.

Ask someone, “What do you do?” at a party. That’s not small talk. That’s a mirror. Without a job title to throw back, most people don’t know what to say.

I’ve seen what that can do. My father-in-law ran a successful cardboard box company. Built it up, employed people, created something real. But when he retired, the bottom dropped out. No routine, no clear purpose. His health and spirit faded fast. It wasn’t about money. It was about meaning.

Which is why I’ve tried to build a post-job structure now. I work out five days a week, because fitness gives me rhythm and energy. I blog because writing, even unpaid, gives me a sense of momentum. I reconnect with old friends to take walks and talk about what we’re working on or wrestling with.

The retired population already faces this transition. The ones who thrive build new ways to matter:

They’re needed. They mentor, volunteer, show up for their families.

They stay curious. They take up woodworking, 3D graphics, languages, chess, piano, photography, and scribbling.

They stay connected. Book clubs, breakfast crews, tai chi in the park.

They make stuff. Gardens, memoirs, playlists, pasta from scratch.

The ones who don’t? They fade. And they fade fast. Imagine that hitting not at 70, but at 35.

Back on Heroes, we asked: What would ordinary people do with extraordinary powers? The answer wasn’t “become Superman.” It was “struggle, search, try to help.” That’s what people do with change. They flail, then they adapt.

We’re going to need systems that help people adapt.

Maker spaces to tinker, build, and collaborate.

Community gardens to turn forgotten land into shared purpose.

Intergenerational programs that treat wisdom like a resource, not a relic.

Public learning hubs for coding, cooking, carpentry, whatever moves you.

None of it works unless people feel useful, connected, and in motion.

If you’re in a knowledge-based career like scribbling for screens, law, finance, or design, you’re not imagining it. The ground is shifting. Rage tweeting about it won't put Sam Altman and his ilk on a different trajectory. They’re forging ahead on their path to an AGI world regardless.

Start now. Build circles outside your job. Make stuff that might not generate revenue but generates curiosity. Ask yourself what parts of your identity aren’t tied to work, and double-down on those.

If you’re raising kids? You should probably talk to them about this. Help them prepare for lives that aren’t job-shaped. Because the job might not be there.

George Lucas didn’t just make Star Wars. He made a universe. One that lived in toys, comics, video games, novels, lunchboxes. He built something bigger than one story or one medium.

That’s a mindset we need for post-work life. Not absence of employment, but presence of meaning. Lives that sprawl across projects, communities, creativity, and care.

The alternative is what Yuval Noah Harari calls the “useless class,” millions of people who are economically sidelined and emotionally untethered. 

What would you do if you didn’t have to work?

Not in the “buy a bass boat” fantasy. In the “your subsistence bills are covered by UBI, now what?” reality that’s coming insanely faster than anyone expected.

If your answer is “I hadn’t thought about it,” that’s not a crisis. That’s a prompt for the gray matter LLM between your ears. Start thinking. Start building. Start now.

And always be scribbling.