It was 2004. I had just graduated in computer engineering from a university in the United States. My head was full of dreams: I would get a good job, become financially independent and start working towards the rest of my life plans. I began sending my résumé to different organisations several months before graduation. But despite submitting one application after another, I heard nothing about a job.
At the time, I was an international student in the United States. If I failed to find a job related to my field of study within a specified period, I would have to return home empty-handed. And there was another worry even before that: how would I pay the rent? How would I put food on the table?
With little choice, I took a job at a pizza shop to cover my expenses. I spent all day making pizzas, washing dishes and wiping tables. There is nothing undignified about earning an honest living. But every now and then, I wondered what all those years of education had been for.
Eventually, I decided that if I could not find a job, I might as well return to studying. I sat for the GRE and applied for admission to graduate programmes. Every day, I would sit in front of my computer, refreshing my email inbox. Would I ever be free of this uncertainty?
Twenty-two years later, in 2026, when I think about the young people in Bangladesh looking for jobs, I am reminded of those days. Today, many have degrees but no jobs. Some families have taken out loans to finance their education, while others have shouldered the responsibility of supporting their younger siblings' studies. And then there are the familiar questions from relatives: “Any news? Have you found a job?” The question is simple enough; answering it is much harder.
Doubting one's own abilities, worrying about the future and feeling left behind while everyone around you moves ahead—these are feelings I know all too well.
We are quick to advise unemployed young people: work harder, acquire more skills. Hard work and skills are certainly important. But we also need to consider other factors. According to the Bangladesh Labour Force Survey 2024, the unemployment rate among university graduates is around 13.5 per cent. When so many young people cannot find jobs, it is only reasonable to ask: is the problem simply a lack of qualifications and experience? Opportunities for higher education are expanding, but are suitable jobs being created at the same pace?
Artificial intelligence, or AI, has added another layer of anxiety. Tasks that people once performed—writing reports, developing code and analysing data—can now have their first drafts produced by AI in an instant. Does that mean everything we have learnt so far will become worthless?
It is not an unreasonable question. Researchers at Stanford University in the United States have found that employment among young workers has declined relatively more in occupations highly exposed to AI. Of course, AI alone cannot be held responsible for all of this. But it is worth thinking about. Young employees usually gain experience by starting with small tasks. If AI takes over those very tasks, where will newcomers learn? And without experience, how will they get good jobs? It is a vicious cycle.
People's anxieties about new technology are nothing new. Around 2,500 years ago, the Greek philosopher Socrates, as recorded in Plato's writings, expressed concern that if people began writing everything down, they would stop exercising their memory. After all, they would no longer need to remember things themselves. The irony is that we still know about Socrates' concern today precisely because Plato wrote it down.
Let me give another example. In the 1990s, when everyone used landlines, we knew the phone numbers of many people by heart. After mobile phones arrived, many of us can no longer even remember the phone numbers of our own family members. But does that mean our ability to remember has declined?
Or consider GPS. In the past, finding your way around an unfamiliar city meant consulting a map or asking passers-by for directions. Now we simply follow the instructions on our phones to reach our destinations. Some research has also suggested that excessive use of GPS may weaken our ability to navigate independently.
In other words, technology makes our lives easier, but in return, we may practise certain skills less. Does that mean we have stopped writing, using mobile phones or relying on GPS? No. Instead, our habits and ways of working have changed alongside technology. We need to look at AI in the same way. We should not be afraid simply because machines are taking over some human tasks. We also need to consider how technology is enabling people to do things they could not do before, or that once took them much longer.
A 2025 analysis by the International Labour Organisation says that nearly one in four jobs worldwide could be transformed by AI. In most cases, however, jobs are more likely to change in nature than disappear altogether. But simply saying that the nature of work will change is hardly reassuring. What guarantees that everyone will have equal access to the new opportunities? Those who get the chance to learn new technologies will move ahead. Others may fall further behind. So rather than denying the change, we need to prepare for it.
I have been researching the relationship between people and technology for many years. In 2011, I gave an enthusiastic speech at a conference about the potential of artificial intelligence. After the talk, someone approached me and spoke about the difficulties he faced in social interactions. He then asked, “If science does not help people, what is the point of doing science?” His words had a profound impact on me.
Researchers like us often get caught up in how intelligent a new technology is and how quickly it can work. But that person's question reminded me that what matters even more than how intelligent a machine becomes is this: whom does it actually benefit?
Drawing on that experience, I want to tell today's young people something. It is not enough to learn how to use AI to generate polished answers. You also need to understand which questions should be asked, where an answer might be wrong and whose life that answer could improve.
Perhaps the most valuable skill of the future will not simply be knowing the answers, but knowing how to ask the right questions. AI may write the code, but that does not automatically make the software secure. Giving advice to farmers does not necessarily make it suitable for Bangladesh's soil and climate. Organising information for a patient does not make it a substitute for a doctor's judgement. These tasks require subject knowledge and an understanding of people's realities. They also require empathy, ethics and a willingness to take responsibility for one's work.
So what can those who are still studying, or searching for jobs after earning a degree, do? I believe they do not need to land a job at a major organisation to prove their abilities. They can start on a small scale. If you are an accounting student, develop a simple system to organise the accounts of a small shop in your neighbourhood. If you are a journalism student, fact-check AI-generated news and show where it gets things wrong. If you study computer science, build something that genuinely helps a farmer in a village or a person with a disability.
Good internet access, training and employment opportunities need to reach different parts of the country. If the benefits of technology remain limited to a few people in cities, inequality will only increase.
But building something is not enough. Put it in the hands of the people it is intended for. Ask whether they can use it. If something goes wrong, fix it. Then build a portfolio documenting your work and the evidence of what you have achieved. Not every initiative will lead to a job. But in your next interview, instead of simply saying, “I can do this”, you will be able to say, “Here, I have done it.” That is no small difference.
This does not mean that degrees are no longer necessary. Without a strong foundation, how will we identify AI's mistakes? The fundamental knowledge we acquire at university helps us evaluate new technologies, question them and make corrections when necessary.
However, after all this, we must not end up placing the entire burden on young people's shoulders. Universities, the government and employers also have responsibilities. University curricula need to be more closely linked to real-world problems. Technology and workplaces are changing, but how much is the gap narrowing between what students learn and what they actually need to do at work?
Employers, too, need to create more internship opportunities for newcomers. If everyone wants experienced employees, where will newcomers gain experience? And opportunities must not remain confined to Dhaka. Good internet access, training and employment opportunities need to reach different parts of the country. If the benefits of technology remain limited to a few people in cities, inequality will only increase.
I also have a request for families and society. Do not judge someone by their first job—or by their unemployment. Young people need advice, certainly, but they also need some reassurance and an opportunity. Instead of asking “Have you found a job?” every day, sometimes asking “How can I help?” may be far more useful.
When I was working at the pizza shop, I had no idea that one day I would teach at a university and conduct research. At the time, I could not even see what lay ahead of me. I am not suggesting that everyone's life will unfold the way mine did. Some people's paths are much harder. Some may not even have the opportunity to return to their studies, as I did. So I do not want to offer the hollow reassurance that “everything will work out if you just keep trying”. But I can say this much: the situation you are in today is not the final chapter of your life. Change direction if necessary, seek help from others and keep learning. If one approach does not work, try another.
Dear Gen Z friends, your degree is an achievement. But it is not your entire identity. And failing to find a job, or struggling to get one, is not the final verdict on your abilities either. Standing in that pizza shop one day, I too thought everything was over. Looking back now, I realise that it was only a difficult chapter. The real story was yet to come.
Your story is only just beginning.
*Ehsan Hoque is a professor of computer science at the University of Rochester, USA