THE AI LIE: Why Corporate Leaders are Gaslighting the American Worker.
In 2024, the customer service department at Klarna, the Swedish fintech company, completed a quiet revolution. The company announced that its AI assistant was now handling the work equivalent of 700 full-time customer service agents. The chatbot resolved two-thirds of customer inquiries in under two minutes, down from eleven minutes previously, with satisfaction ratings matching human agents. The company projected $40 million in annual profit improvement.ΒΉ This wasn't automation in the traditional sense. This was something different. (An important postscript: In May 2025, Klarna reversed course, announcing plans to hire human customer service workers again. CEO Sebastian Siemiatkowski acknowledged that "quality of human support" had suffered and that the company's AI-focused path "wasn't the right one." The reversal is instructive, it reveals both the limitations of current AI and the relentless pressure to try again. We'll return to what Klarna's stumble tells us about the shape of this transition.)Β² --- The Familiar Script We've been through this before, or so the argument goes. Every technological revolution triggers the same cycle of panic and adaptation. In the early 1800s, the Luddites smashed textile machinery, fearing the machines would steal their livelihoods. By 1900, most Americans worked in agriculture; today, less than 2% do. Yet unemployment hasn't steadily climbed, it's fluctuated within a relatively narrow band for over a century. The economy adapted. New jobs emerged. Human ingenuity prevailed. The reassurances come from economists, technologists, and business leaders in predictable refrains: It's just a tool. It augments human capability. Yes, some jobs will change, but we'll create new ones. We always have. There's comfort in this narrative. It's backed by 200 years of evidence. It suggests that our economic anxieties, however real they feel, are ultimately misplaced, that we're once again mistaking transformation for catastrophe. But what if the pattern doesn't hold this time? What if the very thing that makes us confident, our long history of technological adaptation, is blinding us to a fundamentally different kind of disruption?