The IMF (International Monetary Fund) calls them nostalgic jobs—roles AI could do, but ones we prefer a human to perform. Doctors, artists, poets. The word ‘prefer’ matters here.
With past technology, humans got more efficient. AI is different. It’s not helping us—it’s replacing us at the very things that make us human.
Doctors, for example. A human doctor correctly diagnoses 74% of the time. Give that doctor ChatGPT, and it jumps to 78%. But let ChatGPT work alone, and you get 98%.
Yet most people still want a human doctor. Why?
It’s nostalgia. A longing not for better outcomes but for connection. It’s about knowing who did the work. That’s why craft fairs exist. Why people still pay for hand-knitted scarves. The output is secondary.
And it’s why AI in medicine still feels… off.
- AI could free doctors to focus on the human side of care.
- It could eliminate gender bias—where women’s pain is dismissed, their symptoms misdiagnosed, or their needs underrepresented in clinical trials.
- It could monitor patients constantly, prepare doctors ahead of time, and deliver better outcomes.
But still—people want the doctor to be human. For now.
It’s not just medicine.
In art, humans were asked to decide: AI or human? They couldn’t tell—almost a 50/50 split.
When asked what they preferred, they picked the AI art. Same with poetry.
What’s happening? Maybe AI’s clarity—its lack of hidden meaning—appeals more than we realize.
Yet, scroll the comments under these studies and you’ll see the same sentiment over and over:
“AI could NEVER create like a human.”
Never is a strong word. AI has developed faster than anyone imagined. It’s not about whether AI can create. It’s about humans clinging to their relevance.
And then there’s trust.
As AI gets better, authenticity becomes a currency. People might accept less polished output in exchange for certainty:
- Knowing the voice on the phone is real.
- Trusting the person across the table isn’t a deepfake.
It’s why in-person sales jobs may thrive in an AI-saturated world. Not because they’re better—but because they’re human.
The truth is, nostalgia isn’t about resisting AI. It’s about wanting connection. Wanting certainty. Wanting to believe that somewhere in the process, a human was still necessary.
For now, we prefer humans. But preference is fragile. How long will it last?