What's left to do?

I'm a designer, not a programmer. Not long ago, building my own video editor would have been unthinkable. Today I work in one I made myself, next to a design tool, a slide tool, a 3D editor and a music studio. I built them with AI agents, by describing what I needed and correcting what came back.

That still amazes me. But the longer I do it, the less the amazement is about the software.

The bundle comes apart

Every job is a bundle of tasks. Mine used to include drawing, layout, editing, exporting, sending files back and forth, chasing feedback. Agents now do a growing share of that bundle. Not all of it, and not always well. But the direction is clear, and it isn't slowing down.

When I look at the code behind Bridge, most of it was written by agents. I decided what to build, judged what came back and threw a lot of it away. Is that still my work? I think so. But it's a different kind of work than the one I trained for.

Not everyone gets to choose

I'm in a lucky position. I can choose what to hand over and what to keep. Many people won't get that choice. The translator, the junior developer, the support desk, the person who writes the weekly report. Their work doesn't disappear in one dramatic moment. It shrinks, task by task, until the job no longer adds up.

We've been through big technological shifts before, and new work has always appeared. Maybe it will again. But "it worked out last time" is not a plan, and the people caught in the middle of a transition don't live in the long run. They live now.

The question is no longer what we can build. It's what we want to keep doing ourselves.

Work is more than income

What worries me most isn't only money. For a lot of people, being good at something is who they are. The carpenter, the illustrator, the accountant who knows every client by name. Work gives structure, a place among others, the feeling of being needed.

If machines can do most of the tasks, we will have to find meaning somewhere else, or redesign work so the meaningful parts stay with people. Neither happens by itself.

Faster is not a value

In tech, innovation is treated as good by definition. I build new things every day and I love it. But I've started to wonder how much change people can absorb at once. Schools, laws, unions and careers move on a timescale of years. The tools now change every few weeks.

Maybe the most innovative thing we can do is choose, deliberately, where we want to go fast and where we want to go slow.

Why Bridge

That's why Bridge is more than a set of tools. The tools are free, they're good, and you should use them. But they are also an instrument: a way to experience this future before it fully arrives, so we can talk about it knowing what we're talking about.

Bridge wants to be a place for that conversation. Not a lobby for technology and not a protest against it. An open lab where makers, teachers, entrepreneurs, policymakers and anyone else whose work is changing can think out loud, together.

I don't have the answers. I do know the questions are too important to leave to the companies that build the models.

What is changing in your work? I'd like to hear it.

Thom EasixGroningen, October 2026