Happy Labour Day 2026

 Happy Labour Day.

I've been thinking about all this talk that AI is going to mean we won't have to work anymore.

And I keep wondering…

What exactly are we going to do all day?

Eat? Drink? Play golf? Play tennis? Travel? Watch television? Scroll?

There is only so much relaxing a person can do before you start asking, Now what?

I've worked most of my life. And when I say “worked,” I mean labour.

My relationship with work started very young.

In 1969, when I was about 7 years old, my parents were running a restaurant in the Hope/Yale area of British Columbia. My dad had built a garage and truck stop, then added a campground. They were working incredibly hard.

Then they decided to go 24/7.

I was a little kid, but I remember that period.

My dad was still alive then, working constantly in the garage. My mom was working in the restaurant. Sometimes a waitress would wake me at 4 a.m. and I'd go into restaurant and peel potatoes or help however I could.

Looking back now, I think that decision to operate around the clock was when everything began to break down for them.

That is one of the strange things about work.

Work can give us dignity, purpose and pride. But too much work can consume a life.

By ten, I was babysitting for one of the waitresses.

At thirteen, I was berry picking every summer.

At sixteen, I went by myself to Spences Bridge, lived in a little house beside the highway and worked at a fruit stand. I got ripped off there, and my mother helped me take them to Labour Relations. I eventually got the $600 they owed me.

After graduating in 1980, during a terrible economy, I worked as a straw boss with a friend, then on a picking machine and later in a berry processing plant. I had no car and lived in the Valley.

I would have many jobs over those years—bakery, duck farm, turkey processing and whatever else I could find.

Let's just say there was a learning curve.

For the next eleven years I worked farm labour, nannying, factory jobs and whatever else I could find before returning to college.

I studied photography.

And somehow, I still ended up working very hard.

Photography isn't exactly a desk job when you're hauling equipment, standing for hours and working long days.

Then I had a child. I took more courses, worked selling soap, nannying, housekeeping—whatever work was available.

My working life was never one straight line. It was one job, one lesson, one opportunity, one necessity at a time.

Then came COVID.

Then came the disappearance of so much work.

Eventually I took a very heavy janitorial job because I needed to work.

And then, nearly two years with no jobs.

Now I'm nearly 65, and the work I can find is mostly cat sitting and housecleaning. It helps with groceries and storage, but it doesn't pay the bills.

So when I hear people casually say, “AI will mean nobody has to work anymore,” I don't quite know what they mean.

Because I remember something about working that I don't think gets talked about enough.

The first days of a new job can be awful.

You don't know anything.

You have to listen. Remember. Make mistakes. Try again. Watch other people. Feel like you're never going to get it.

Then one day, usually somewhere around a few months in, something changes.

You just know.

Your hands know what to do.

You understand the rhythm.

You can solve problems without panicking.

You're no longer the new person.

And there is a feeling that comes with that that is incredibly satisfying.

I learned this. I can do this. I'm good at this.

I used to tell people that because I'd learned it the hard way.

There is something deeply human about becoming competent.

And yes, hard physical work can take a toll. I know that better than most.

But there is also something profoundly satisfying about working until you're physically exhausted, coming home, sleeping deeply, and waking up knowing you accomplished something.

So perhaps the question isn't whether AI can eliminate work.

Maybe the question should be:

What kind of work should technology eliminate?

The dangerous work.

The soul-destroying work.

The repetitive work that nobody wants to do.

The work that destroys people's bodies.

The work that exists only because somebody else needs to make more money.

Absolutely. Let AI take some of that.

But learning something difficult?

Building something?

Growing something?

Caring for someone?

Making art?

Fixing something that is broken?

Solving a problem?

Working with other people toward something that matters?

I don't believe human beings will ever stop needing those things.

Maybe what we should be trying to create isn't a world where nobody works.

Maybe we should create a world where people have more choice about what they work at, work reasonable hours, are paid properly, and have enough time left over to actually live.

Because I've seen both sides.

I've seen what happens when people work too much.

And I've seen what happens when people can't find work at all.

Neither is freedom.

So this Labour Day, I'm thinking about all of it.

The little girl peeling potatoes at four in the morning.

The teenager picking berries.

The sixteen-year-old living beside the highway.

The farm worker, nanny, factory worker, photographer and cleaner I've been since.

And the woman I am now, wondering what kind of future we're building for people who still want to do something meaningful with their lives.

Maybe that's the conversation we should be having about AI.

Not:

“How do we make humans unnecessary?”

But:

“How do we make human life more meaningful?”

Happy Labour Day. ❤️