I have spent thousands of hours writing books and decades leading communications teams, while testing ideas in the “real world.” That long life of learning and leading has taught me something many miss in today’s AI debates: a tool only becomes powerful when real expertise is already in place.

I use AI every day. Not as a shortcut, but as a partner. It helps me scan information quickly, test narrative angles, and surface new possibilities. Those outputs matter only because I already know how to judge, refine, and shape ideas into something meaningful.

Without that background, AI is just noise.

This is why the hand-wringing over “AI plagiarism” in universities is so revealing. Students who lean on AI to produce work they can’t create themselves (by themselves or with the guidance of caring, professional faculty members) undercut their own education. They get the appearance of knowledge, not the substance. Professors are right to worry: when novices outsource the struggle, they graduate with hollow skills.

So when I hear, “AI makes people lazy” or “AI kills creativity,” I push back. Bad writing and shallow research existed long before machine learning. The problem is not the technology, but rather how unprepared people are to use it well (or properly).

The real question is: what happens when AI is in the hands of people who already bring discipline, judgment, and creativity? This is where the true frontier lies. It should unsettle us, because the threat is not AI. We suffer from our failure to cultivate and reward mastery in the first place.

...Because You Didn’t Hire Enough Humanities Graduates...

Critical and contextual thinking are the new superpowers!

Walk the halls of any failing organization in 2030 and you will see the same patterns: brilliant engineers with no sense of context; marketing departments drowning in dashboards, but blind to meaning; and leaders who can’t connect decisions to human experience.

The tragedy isn’t lack of intelligence...but lack of perspective.

For years, executives doubled down on “hard skills.” They thought: “Hire more coders. Scale the analysts. Push productivity through process.” And yet, here we are: disengaged employees, customers who don’t feel understood or valued, and cultures that suffocate innovation.

What organizations (and their leaders) missed is that human beings drive business, not algorithms or workflows. And human beings are messy, contradictory, and infinitely complex. To make sense of that complexity requires something more than efficiency metrics. It requires context, empathy, narrative, and the ability to hold multiple truths at once.

“Complex problems need people who are energized by tackling big, complex challenges.”

— Bob Batchelor

This is precisely what the Humanities teach. Graduates who have wrestled with history, philosophy, literature, creative writing, or art bring more than cultural awareness. They bring tools for thinking systemically, questioning assumptions, and connecting disparate dots. They can spot patterns across centuries, frame ethical dilemmas in ways that unlock better strategy, and articulate meaning when others only see noise.

The Authentic Leader argues that leadership is ultimately about one question: Are we helping people? Leaders who can’t answer that—who can’t even see it—build organizations that crumble when faced with complexity. Humanities graduates, by training, are equipped to keep asking that question, even when the numbers look good on the quarterly report.

This is not an argument against technology, finance, or engineering talent. Rather, it is a call for balance. If you want to future-proof your business, you need people who can code and people who can contextualize. People who can design systems and people who can challenge their consequences. Professionals who can solve problems and people who can imagine futures worth solving for.

Ignore this at your peril.

The companies that thrive in 2030 won’t be those with the most data. Instead, think of a future in which leaders and teams know what the data means for human lives. Complex problems need people who are energized by tackling big, complex challenges.

Bob Batchelor is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Communication, Media, & Culture at Coastal Carolina University. He is a critically-acclaimed, bestselling cultural historian and biographer. He has published widely on American cultural history and literature, including Stan Lee: A Life and books on The Doors, Bob Dylan, The Great Gatsby, Mad Men, and John Updike. Batchelor earned his doctorate in English Literature from the University of South Florida.