First jobbers navigate AI, ambition and work-life balance

The first shock of a first job is not always the workload. Sometimes it is discovering that nobody has written the question for you.

At university, assignments usually arrive with a problem already defined. At work, young employees may first have to decide what the problem is, who needs to act and how much uncertainty they can tolerate before acting.

That gap between academic structure and workplace ambiguity surfaced repeatedly at the Hope Club “Jer Nee First Jobber” event organised by Springnews and True Corporation on Thursday (September 3).

For the young workers in the room, the challenge went beyond landing an entry-level post.

They were trying to understand careers that no longer follow straight lines, communication that must produce action rather than simply demonstrate knowledge, the growing pressure to master artificial intelligence (AI), and where work should end when a phone can keep the office open all night.

From clear answers to messy problems

Several first jobbers described university as useful but incomplete preparation for working life. Academic study gave them technical foundations, discipline and critical thinking, but the workplace demanded a different kind of judgement.

In a classroom, explaining every step can earn marks. In a company, communication may have to secure agreement, persuade a stakeholder or move a decision forward. Ambitious ideas also run up against budgets, resources, deadlines and questions of feasibility.

The result is a familiar contradiction for new graduates. Employers recruit for knowledge, yet the skills that quickly become decisive are often less easily taught in lectures: problem framing, resilience, negotiation, leadership, presentation and the ability to read people.

Degrees stop being destinations

Prof Dr Yodchanan Wongsawat, Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of Higher Education, Science, Research and Innovation, challenged the assumption that a degree should dictate an entire career.

“The degree and the job title will not always match, and that can be difficult. A Master’s degree may not be enough for lifelong learning, so upskilling and reskilling are what I encourage.”

For Yodchanan, that mismatch does not automatically mean education has failed. An engineering graduate can move into business, while others may discover a new direction only after entering the workforce.

The bigger question is whether people can keep learning when their goals change and whether the economy offers enough room for their skills.

He encouraged continuous upskilling and reskilling, arguing that learning should not be confined to a particular age or end once a qualification has been earned.

Yodchanan also wants universities to become more than places that award degrees. They can serve as incubators where students test ideas, gain access to laboratories and equipment, meet people outside their disciplines and explore entrepreneurship before they have accumulated capital or industry connections.

That view reflects a reality voiced by the first jobbers themselves. Some had already crossed from one field into another. Others saw postgraduate study not as the automatic next step after a bachelor’s degree, but as something they might return to once they understood what they actually needed.

Yodchanan also drew on his own career to illustrate how dramatically a professional path can change.

“I changed my job at 46, from professor to politician, and I might lose my job every day. But I’m not afraid, because what we gain is experience.”

AI fear becomes a skills question

Nothing exposed their uncertainty more sharply than AI. Some worried that entry-level work could shrink as routine tasks are automated. Others were less afraid of AI itself than of colleagues, or the generation behind them, becoming far better at using it.

Sigve Brekke, Group CEO of True Corporation, rejected the idea that AI would simply remove the bottom rung of the corporate ladder. His preferred image was an hourglass: fewer roles in the middle as routine work is automated, while organisations would still need senior judgement and younger employees who understand emerging technology and their own generation.

His sharper warning was directed not at the technology, but at people who refuse to adapt.

“AI is going to replace some jobs, no doubt about that, particularly jobs that are routine and can be automated. What I’m worried about is people who don’t see that they need to learn AI, because they will replace themselves.”

That does not mean everyone needs to become an AI engineer. Brekke distinguished between specialists who work with the technology in depth and leaders who must understand what it can change, from business models and products to sales, processes and organisational structures.

The first jobbers offered an important qualification: fundamentals still matter. A person who understands software, design, language or business is often better placed to judge whether an AI output is useful, what context is missing and when technology produces the wrong answer.

Human judgement, creativity, persuasion and the ability to read a room repeatedly emerged as strengths they were unwilling to surrender.

Brekke’s advice therefore went beyond mastering a tool.

“Don’t specialise too quickly. Try to learn as much as possible, get as many friends as possible and engage with as many environments as possible, because that’s where you prepare yourself for the future.”

For those tempted to start a business immediately, his message was equally unsentimental. Entrepreneurship can mean long hours, financial uncertainty and failure. Working first for an established company, he suggested, can provide a platform for learning how organisations function before taking that risk independently.

When balance stops being a slogan

The discussion became more personal when work-life balance moved from an ideal to the realities of fatigue, ambition and fear of falling behind.

Some first jobbers did not see balance as a neat division between working hours and personal time. They spoke instead about energy: whether the reason for being tired felt worthwhile and whether they had enough time to recharge. Others wanted much clearer boundaries, particularly when messages and revisions followed them home.

One participant described a period when work consumed almost every waking hour and eventually led to hospitalisation following a panic attack. The experience forced a reassessment of sleep, exercise, health and the belief that ending the day with spare time somehow meant underachieving.

Brekke separated hard work from being mentally drained by work that feels meaningless.

“You have to love what you do. If work is just a place where you make money and it’s outside work where you live, work-life balance becomes extremely important.”

He acknowledged that not everyone has the financial freedom simply to leave a job they dislike, but urged young workers to think carefully about what they want from their careers.

He also drew a firmer boundary around physical health, stressing that sleep, healthy food and exercise should not be sacrificed to ambition. But his most personal challenge was not about hours at all. It was about meaning.

“Sooner or later, you will have to ask yourself: ‘Why am I here? What difference do I make?’ What would you be proud of, and what contribution to society did you make?”

For first jobbers, however, the difficult question was what happens after the first few years. Many begin by assuming they will work relentlessly while young and earn more freedom later. Yet greater seniority can bring more responsibility, not more balance.

Brekke reframed the discomfort of a first job as something worth preserving.

“That feeling about being outside your comfort zone is your best friend throughout life. When you become too comfortable, force yourself to feel uncomfortable again, because that’s where creativity comes from.”

Once work becomes too comfortable, he argued, people should deliberately learn something new or take on a challenge that restores uncertainty, because that is where creativity and growth often begin.

A different deal with employers

The exchange also showed how the relationship between young employees and companies is changing.

Brekke recalled entering the workforce grateful that an employer wanted him. He sees younger workers approaching the relationship differently: they expect the employer, the boss and the workplace to offer something meaningful in return.

He regards that as healthier, provided expectations run in both directions.

“Don’t get stuck just because you’re happy someone wanted you to have a job. Claim your right, but also do your duty.”

That line captured much of what the first jobbers were trying to work out. They want employers to respect their time, development and values, but they also understand that careers require effort, adaptability and uncomfortable stretches of learning.

For a generation entering work while technology, job structures and expectations are shifting at once, certainty may be the wrong thing to chase. A more durable foundation may be the ability to learn, move, connect and recognise when a path no longer fits.

Brekke closed with confidence in the younger generation in front of him, arguing that countries progress when young people believe they can build something better than what came before.

“I have big, big hope. You represent a generation that believes you can be part of making Thailand a better place than your parents’ generation.”

The future facing first jobbers may be less predictable than the one previous generations expected. But the conversation suggested that unpredictability does not have to mean paralysis. It can also mean permission to change course.