For the past few years, I've advised CEOs and investors on AI transformation: big decisions and lots of talk about workflows and upskilling.
But the most revealing question never comes up during the meeting. It comes after, when senior executives joke that they are glad that they are at the tail end of their professional careers. The question that everyone asks is: What does this mean for our kids?

Sit with that for a second. The people redesigning organizations and making decisions about entry-level jobs — the ones deciding which roles AI absorbs and which ones survive — don't know what to tell their own children.
I couldn't shake that question, because I had two college students of my own. And I was struggling to give them the kind of confident advice my parents gave me, because the playbook that worked for my generation doesn't apply to them.
The Disconnect Nobody Was Fixing
Here's what I was seeing from two vantage points:
In the boardroom, companies were eliminating traditional entry-level paths or transforming them beyond recognition.
In schools, students were preparing for careers using assumptions built for a pre-AI economy. High school guidance counselors and college career advisors were doing their best with outdated maps. Teachers and professors had no training with AI tools and could not advise students on how to use AI properly. Former Claremont McKenna College president Hiram Chodosh opened his endorsement of Indispensable with the question underneath all of this: "Will AI make students smart or dumb?"
This was nobody's fault, but everyone's problem.
So I went looking for a book to hand my kids — something practical, honest, and written for students instead of executives. It wasn't on any shelf. Which is how I made the questionable decision every author eventually confesses to: Fine, I'll write it myself.
What I Refused to Write
Most advice about AI and careers comes in two flavors: panicked or Pollyanna. "The robots are taking everything," or "Don't worry, it'll all work out." Neither helps a student prepare for next Monday.
My book Indispensable lives in the messy middle — where AI is real, the future remains uncertain, and becoming the person nobody can replace is both harder and simpler than it sounds. It requires informed agency.
I refuse to fearmonger about AI or overhype it. I’ll leave that to others. My goal is simple: I want students prepared to thrive and adults knowledgeable enough to help them.
Brice Challamel, OpenAI's Head of AI Strategy and Adoption, called my book "a useful guide for turning AI anxiety into human agency." This endorsement should tell you something important about the agency part.

The generation of students in high school and college right now got handed a genuinely disruptive moment, but they also have a major advantage: advance notice. Companies are telegraphing their moves. Empirical data is publicly available. Innovators and thought leaders in education, AI, and the workplace are sharing what they know. I simply brought together the facts to offer students (and the adults who care about them) a guide for thriving in the AI age.
What I Hope This Book Accomplishes
Selling copies is an obvious goal — my publisher, Damn Gravity, would like me to mention that. But the real goal is this: I hope students will make a handful of decisions differently after reading my book. It’s really that simple.
What does this actually look like?
Making more deliberate choices in high school
Looking at college selection through a new lens
Signing up for college courses they wouldn't have taken
Building a passion project instead of firing more formal internship applications into the void
Having intentional conversations with peers, professors, and alumni
Choose small but impactful moves, guided by real information instead of herd instinct, that will compound into AI-ready careers.
Wharton professor Stefano Puntoni said it best in his endorsement: "As a parent and educator, I was looking for a book like this." We all want to help. And I hope Indispensable hands students the agency to act. That's the whole point.
The Lesson Writing Indispensable Taught Me
The first line of my Acknowledgements section reads: "A book about being indispensable turns out to be impossible to write alone."
I didn't plan that irony. Diverse readers — including educators, counselors, education experts, AI leaders, college presidents, and students — told me the truth about my fragile early drafts. Three brilliant college interns were my audience in the room. My publishing team at Damn Gravity Media, my NextAccess partners, other colleagues and friends, and my two kids (who survived as test subjects for twenty years) — all played a role. The irreplaceable stuff runs through people. It always has. AI just made that impossible for me to ignore.
One more confession: the Foreword was written by Claude. Yes, I asked an AI to review a book about outcompeting machines. It was eager to oblige and then spent five paragraphs listing everything it can't do, like exercise judgment, build trust, navigate ambiguity, and actually care about humans. When the bot hands you the scouting report on itself, study it.
Let's Begin

I dedicated Indispensable to my parents, who were my first teachers. The dedication ends: "This book exists because they made me curious." Curiosity got me here. It'll take today’s students a lot further, because they have decades of runway and better tools than I ever did.
The book officially launched yesterday. Please order it direct HERE or pick up a copy wherever you prefer to buy books, ebooks, or audiobooks. Stanford's Jeremy Utley closed his endorsement with "Hand this book to any student you care about." If you're a parent or educator reading this, that's your assignment. If you're a student, hand it to yourself first.
The last line of the Introduction to Indispensable is "Let's begin."
I meant it.


