A Long List of Awful Jobs

Outside journalism, I’ve done my fair share of truly awful jobs. In no particular order, I’ve sold advertising space for the now long-defunct TruckMart magazine, worked as a steel fixer, paint sprayer, porter in a glove factory, pizza chef, KP, photographer’s assistant, and—my personal favourite—working for my dad as the chirpy chappy chipping out concrete from inside the drum of a broken-down cement mixer lorry.

The Worst Job of All

But the very, very worst—by a country mile—the one that truly took the biscuit—that still makes me wince as I write this—was working in a call centre.

On so many levels, it was pure purgatory: the hours, the hellish working conditions, the blinkered moribund management, and the fact that I was peddling a lie—a conspiracy all conspired to make it a living hell. Even so, I had to do it. What’s more, with the gift of hindsight, I’m happy I did.

The Deception Behind the Job

The deception to which I refer was this: our job was not to service customers but to provide the illusion of customer service.

We were there to tick boxes, follow protocol, and never, ever deviate from the script. Officially, we were told we weren’t even scripted, but we might as well have been. Every process was set in stone, as immutable and sacred to the working culture as the Ten Commandments.

The Hidden Client

To protect the guilty, I can’t and won’t say who I worked for, but my role was to provide help and support for a certain brand of luxury car should yours break down, suffer a puncture, or experience any of a whole host of trivial issues that seemed to render a modern vehicle undrivable and unserviceable.

You may even have spoken to me.

Yet, I did not work for the manufacturer; I worked for a third party, and that was the heart of the problem.

The Reality of the Call Centre

The reality was that I was not there to help and assist you as you sat on the hard shoulder of some motorway in the middle of who knows where but to fool you into thinking I was. My real job was to keep the client (that secret hidden car maker) happy; you were secondary, collateral damage on the road to nowhere.

KPIs, minimum service levels, and staffing were all set to keep the manufacturer and that third party happy—while you—well, most of the time, you were on your own.

Life on the Treadmill

Each day, it was like jumping onto a treadmill at full speed, with no warm-up; you hit the rubber running at full blast and carried on that way for eight hours with half an hour for lunch. It was horrendous. Yet, for all its many faults, in troubled financial seas, that job was my lifeboat.

At a time when I was struggling to stay afloat, it gave me a steady, if soul-destroying, income. It was dreadful, yes, but it kept the lights on and the wolves from the door. It was the kind of job that’s not part of anyone’s career path or appears on your CV but simply fills the gap when life takes a wrong turn.

The Role of AI in Replacing Jobs

I hated it, but I needed it just as much. However, its days are numbered as it’s exactly the kind of job that AI is poised to replace. Scripted interactions? Automated systems can handle that. Protocols set in stone? Algorithms can execute them flawlessly. Tick-box exercises? Machines never tire of them.

A virtual call centre is infinitely scalable—5 am on an icy morning, and need more call handlers? Just boot up some more server space on the cloud—instant customer service. No more red call boards, no more holding on the line.

A quiet Sunday, simply reduce your virtual workforce—no need to make them redundant—just pull the plug. It’s cheaper than humans, and while it pains me to say it, they might just do a better job—better than me, that’s for sure.

What Happens When Lifeboats Sink?

And when that happens—when roles like these disappear—what happens to the people who once relied on them? People like you and me who have just been dealt a bad hand. Do we just sink?

For all its flaws, the call centre gave me something AI never could: a sense, however fleeting, that I was still in the fight—that I still had a future. If we take these lifeboat jobs away without providing alternatives, we’re not just replacing roles; we’re pulling the safety net out from under millions of people—believe me, universal credit might be enough to keep you alive, but it’s not enough to live on.

The Role of AI and Human Touch

The question isn’t whether AI will make roles like this redundant; it’s what we do—when they do. What do we offer to the people who need these lifeboats if we let AI sink them for good?

It’s not just call centres at risk but a whole host of jobs—from supermarket check-out staff to journalists, all have the virtual sword of Damocles hanging over them.

And yes, I’m well aware of the irony. Here I am, leaning on AI to help correct my grammar and spelling while writing about the dangers of AI replacing those lifeboat jobs. But perhaps that’s the point. Used responsibly, AI can be a tool that complements human endeavour, creating jobs rather than culling them.

The Importance of the Human Touch

For all our sakes, we must not allow greed to call the shots and let AI become a substitute for humans.

The danger lies in what happens when we cross that line—when we forget that behind every great idea, every thoughtful response, every “hello, how may I help you?” there needs to be a human touch.

For without that dreadful lifeboat, I would have drowned. For that, I am truly grateful.


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