Latest news with #AmosLau
Independent Singapore
a day ago
- Business
- Independent Singapore
20 y/o Singaporean says older generations' idea of job security — committing to a 9-6 full-time job — is outdated for Gen Zs like him in the age of AI
SINGAPORE: In a world where artificial intelligence writes your emails, edits your videos, and even analyses your spreadsheets, is a traditional full-time job still worth committing to? According to 20-year-old Amos Lau, a Gen Z Singaporean, that question haunts many of his peers. In a candid Letter to the Editor published by The Business Times , Amos doesn't mince words: 'I'll admit it: I'm afraid to commit to a traditional full-time job.' It's not fear of hard work or lack of ambition. It's the creeping anxiety that comes from watching artificial intelligence (AI) evolve faster than you can update your resume, and Amos isn't alone… AI is here – and it's moving fast 'McKinsey's report that 92% of companies will increase their AI investment over the next three years says everything,' Amos writes. 'The AI wave is no longer on the horizon — it's here,' he warned. And Amos would know. As a marketing student, he's already well-acquainted with the AI arsenal: ChatGPT for writing and copy ideas Invideo AI for automating video creation Excel GPTs for data processing and spreadsheet automation These are the very tools that promise to make work easier, but for Amos and many in Gen Z, they also present a silent threat: If AI can do what I'm training to do — and do it faster — why would a company hire me at all? The great Gen Z career dilemma Older generations often preach the gospel of the 9-to-6: climb the ladder, stash away Central Provident Fund (CPF) savings, chase that 'dream job' title. However, to Amos and his peers, that formula seems increasingly detached from reality. See also Robert Downey Jr talks about leaving MCU 'As a 20-something in Singapore, I often hear older generations talk about job security, retirement savings, or climbing the corporate ladder,' he says. 'But for many in my generation, those ideas feel increasingly outdated — if not completely out of reach.' Amos raises some serious questions that strike a nerve for many young adults: 'If AI can write, design, and even strategise at scale, where does my human value lie?' 'Is it worth specialising in something today if AI could automate it tomorrow?' 'Should I take a full-time job when the skills I'm hired for may be obsolete before I get promoted?' These aren't abstract musings. They're daily roadblocks for Gen Z workers stepping into an unpredictable world of work. The rise of the portfolio generation Instead of betting everything on one job or one title, Amos says many of his peers are opting for what some have dubbed 'portfolio careers.' That means: Freelancing across industries Picking up short-term micro-skills Switching fields as needed Learning fast, pivoting faster On the surface, it sounds like a dream: freedom, flexibility, and creative control, but beneath the surface? Exhaustion, instability, and an identity crisis. 'This agility comes with its own cost,' Amos admits. 'Instability, burnout, and the fear of never becoming truly 'expert' at anything,' he fears. Why skilling isn't the same as stability Everyone's talking about 'upskilling' or 'reskilling' — government grants, SkillsFuture credits, and corporate training sessions galore. However, Amos believes these aren't always enough. AI is accelerating faster than these programmes can keep pace. And no certificate, no matter how shiny, guarantees long-term employability anymore. See also Concerns over fraud protection grow among Singapore bank customers 'We need not just skilling pathways,' he writes, 'but also realistic conversations about what long-term employability looks like in an age where technology evolves faster than training programmes can keep up.' This call for honesty — not just hype — might be the most important thing Gen Z is asking for right now. Commitment issues or conscious caution? Amos isn't rejecting the idea of work. He's rejecting the outdated blueprint of what work should look like. 'Until we bridge that gap,' he warns, 'don't be surprised if more Gen Zs like myself hesitate to sign on to the traditional 9-to-6 contract – not out of disinterest, but out of deep uncertainty.' In other words, Gen Z isn't lazy. They're calculating — and not without reason. If a 9-to-6 job no longer offers stability, financial security, or even the promise of professional growth, then why sign the dotted line? Are we witnessing the slow death of the traditional career? For decades, a full-time job has been the cornerstone of adulthood, but Amos Lau's letter is a sign that this cornerstone may be cracking under the weight of modern uncertainty. His generation is growing up with: Economic unpredictability (hello, inflation and housing prices) AI-powered disruption (from blue-collar to white-collar jobs) Social media-fuelled career comparisons (the 'LinkedIn hustle culture' effect) Put all that together, and it's no wonder Gen Z is having second thoughts. What needs to change? Amos isn't asking for pity. He's asking for change, and maybe, the ball is now in the court of employers, educators, and policymakers to: Redefine job roles to emphasise irreplaceable human traits (like emotional intelligence and ethical judgment) Design adaptable, modular career paths Prioritise psychological safety and flexibility over rigid KPIs And most importantly, listen to what young workers are actually saying See also Tech Titans Collaborating To Shape The Future Of Ai Because if Amos' letter proves anything, it's that Gen Z isn't afraid of hard work — they're just afraid of becoming obsolete in a system that refuses to adapt. AI might be the elephant in every boardroom today, but for Gen Z, it's the shadow that follows them from school into the job market. If we want to future-proof the workforce, we need more than just tech tools and training manuals — we need radical honesty, bold reinvention, and mutual empathy across generations. And it starts by listening to voices like Amos Lau's. In other news, just like Amos' peers who are opting for 'portfolio careers,' another Gen Z, Kevin Quah, a Singaporean young millionaire, peeled back the hood on what it actually takes to build a million-dollar business. 'I'm not a stock market expert,' he said, adding that what financially worked for him most was building something useful and meaningful, such as connecting AI with real-world, everyday needs, including empowering senior citizens, people with disabilities, and underprivileged communities. You can read his full story here: 'You don't need to be a stock market expert to get rich' — Young Singaporean millionaire reveals how solving problems of others with AI led to his first million
Business Times
04-07-2025
- Business
- Business Times
Why I'm afraid to commit to a full-time job as a Gen Z Singaporean in the age of AI
AS A 20-something in Singapore, I often hear older generations talk about job security, retirement savings or climbing the corporate ladder. But for many in my generation, those ideas feel increasingly outdated – if not completely out of reach. I'll admit it: I'm afraid to commit to a traditional full-time job. Not because I lack ambition. Not because I'm lazy. But because I genuinely don't know if the job I train for today will even exist five years from now. A recent article in The Business Times, 'Rethinking AI skilling: From awareness to practical adoption', rightly points out that companies are rapidly investing in artificial intelligence (AI). Tools like ChatGPT, Microsoft Copilot and other enterprise-grade platforms are now embedded in workflows. McKinsey's report that 92 per cent of companies will increase their AI investment over the next three years says everything: the AI wave is no longer on the horizon – it's here. While businesses talk about upskilling employees to 'work with AI', the reality for many of us entering the workforce is this: we're not just learning to work with AI. We're quietly trying to figure out how not to be replaced by it. A NEWSLETTER FOR YOU Friday, 3 pm Thrive Money, career and life hacks to help young adults stay ahead of the curve. Sign Up Sign Up Take marketing, my field of study. I've used generative AI tools like ChatGPT for copywriting, Invideo AI for automated video creation, and even niche GPTs like Excel AI to process and sort information. These tools are fast, scalable and increasingly accessible. But they also raise uncomfortable questions: If AI can write, design and even strategise at scale, where does my human value lie? Is it worth specialising in something today if AI could automate it tomorrow? Should I take a full-time job when the skills I'm hired for may be obsolete before I get promoted? These are not theoretical concerns – they're daily mental roadblocks. Instead, many of my peers are exploring alternative routes: building portfolio careers, freelancing across domains and constantly picking up short-term micro-skills to stay adaptable. But this agility comes with its own cost: instability, burnout and the fear of never becoming truly 'expert' at anything. AI has undeniably unlocked opportunities. But for young professionals, it has also introduced an undercurrent of quiet anxiety. We need not just skilling pathways, but also realistic conversations about what long-term employability looks like, in an age where technology evolves faster than training programmes can keep up. Until we bridge that gap, don't be surprised if more Gen Zs like myself hesitate to sign on to the traditional 9-to-6 contract – not out of disinterest, but out of deep uncertainty. Amos Lau
