We Keep Getting Surprised by Disruption. Why?
Series: The Human Impact of Generative AI - Article 1
Let's start with something obvious: this isn't the first time we've been here.
Every few decades, a new technology shows up and rewrites the rules. It changes how we work, what we value, and who gets left behind. And yet, each time, we treat it like a surprise. A shock. A twist no one could have seen coming.
But of course, it was coming. The signs were there. We just didn't act on them.
Take electricity. In the early 1900s, it promised to make factories faster, cleaner, and safer. But it took decades for businesses to truly redesign production around it. Historical data from the 1920s reveals that simply replacing steam engines with electric motors, without rethinking workflow, barely improved productivity. It wasn't until companies restructured their entire systems that the real gains appeared. The technology was ready. The mindset wasn't.
Then came the assembly line. Henry Ford's innovation cut the time it took to build a car from 12 hours to 90 minutes. That kind of leap was revolutionary, but it came at a human cost. The work became so repetitive and exhausting that in 1913, Ford's factories saw turnover hit 370 percent. He had to double wages just to keep the workforce intact.
Fast forward to the dot-com era. In 1999, we were promised a new digital economy. Two years later, the dot-com crash wiped out five trillion dollars in market value. It wasn't because the internet wasn't transformative. It was. But many companies underestimated how much real-world adaptation and user-centered strategy were required.
So here we are again. New technology. Big promises. Growing tension.
It's not that we fail to see disruption coming. It's that we don't take it seriously until it's already reshaping the ground under our feet.
Part of the problem is structural. Institutions like governments, education systems, and corporations are designed for scale and efficiency, not for agility. They preserve what works instead of reinventing it when it still seems "good enough."
But it's also personal. When we hear about a big shift on the horizon, we instinctively scan for risk. Is this going to affect me? If it doesn't feel urgent, we move on. If it does, we tend to delay, deflect, or quietly hope it goes away.
We're not bad at seeing change. We're just bad at seeing ourselves in it.
Disruption doesn't usually announce itself with a bang. It shows up quietly. A new tool in your workflow. A role that starts to feel peripheral. A meeting you're no longer part of. By the time we notice, we've already lost ground we didn't realize was shifting.
The good news is that we can break the cycle. But it means shifting how we see disruption. Not just as a technical evolution, but as something deeply human.
We have to learn from what came before. Not just the wins, but the misses. The moments when the signs were clear but inconvenient. The people who were overlooked. The teams that moved too late, or not at all.
That kind of learning takes more than curiosity. It takes reflection, honesty, and sometimes a willingness to admit we've been part of the problem.
A Thought Exercise
Think back to the last major shift you lived through. Maybe it was:
The rise of email
The move to remote work
The moment your job changed because of a new system or tool
Ask yourself:
What did you assume at the time that turned out to be wrong?
Who adapted faster than expected?
Who struggled, and why?
Now take it a step further. Look at what's happening today.
What roles, skills, or expectations are being reshaped?
Quietly.
Quickly.
Maybe even invisibly.
It might feel unfamiliar. But if you've seen this pattern before, you know it's not.
The technology may be new. The human challenges are not.
That's where we'll go next.
What's a disruption you've lived through that changed your perspective? How did you adapt?
Share your story below.
Citations:
Electricity's slow adoption:
Ford's turnover & wages:
Dot-com crash:
