The Rise of AI: Why the Rote Professions Are on the Chopping Block

Medical doctors, lawyers, and judges have been the undisputed titans of professional authority for centuries. Their expertise, we are told, is sacrosanct, earned through gruelling education, prodigious memory, and painstaking application of established knowledge. But peel back the robes and white coats, and you’ll find something unsettling: a deep reliance on rote learning—an intellectual treadmill prioritising recall over reasoning. In an age where artificial intelligence can memorise and synthesise at scale, this dependence on predictable, replicable processes makes these professions ripe for automation.

Rote Professions in AI’s Crosshairs

AI thrives in environments that value pattern recognition, procedural consistency, and brute-force memory—the hallmarks of medical and legal practice.

  1. Medicine: The Diagnosis Factory
    Despite its life-saving veneer, medicine is largely a game of matching symptoms to diagnoses, dosing regimens, and protocols. Enter an AI with access to the sum of human medical knowledge: not only does it diagnose faster, but it also skips the inefficiencies of human memory, emotional bias, and fatigue. Sure, we still need trauma surgeons and such, but diagnosticians are so yesterday’s news.
    Why pay a six-figure salary to someone recalling pharmacology tables when AI can recall them perfectly every time? Future healthcare models are likely to see Medical Technicians replacing high-cost doctors. These techs, trained to gather patient data and operate alongside AI diagnostic systems, will be cheaper, faster, and—ironically—more consistent.
  2. Law: The Precedent Machine
    Lawyers, too, sit precariously on the rote-learning precipice. Case law is a glorified memory game: citing the right precedent, drafting contracts based on templates, and arguing within frameworks so well-trodden that they resemble legal Mad Libs. AI, with its infinite recall and ability to synthesise case law across jurisdictions, makes human attorneys seem quaintly inefficient. The future isn’t lawyers furiously flipping through books—it’s Legal Technicians trained to upload case facts, cross-check statutes, and act as intermediaries between clients and the system. The $500-per-hour billable rate? A relic of a pre-algorithmic era.
  3. Judges: Justice, Blind and Algorithmic
    The bench isn’t safe, either. Judicial reasoning, at its core, is rule-based logic applied with varying degrees of bias. Once AI can reliably parse case law, evidence, and statutes while factoring in safeguards for fairness, why retain expensive and potentially biased judges? An AI judge, governed by a logic verification layer and monitored for compliance with established legal frameworks, could render verdicts untainted by ego or prejudice.
    Wouldn’t justice be more blind without a human in the equation?

The Techs Will Rise

Replacing professionals with AI doesn’t mean removing the human element entirely. Instead, it redefines roles, creating new, lower-cost positions such as Medical and Legal Technicians. These workers will:

  • Collect and input data into AI systems.
  • Act as liaisons between AI outputs and human clients or patients.
  • Provide emotional support—something AI still struggles to deliver effectively.

The shift also democratises expertise. Why restrict life-saving diagnostics or legal advice to those who can afford traditional professionals when AI-driven systems make these services cheaper and more accessible?

But Can AI Handle This? A Call for Logic Layers

AI critics often point to hallucinations and errors as proof of its limitations, but this objection is shortsighted. What’s needed is a logic layer: a system that verifies whether the AI’s conclusions follow rationally from its inputs.

  • In law, this could ensure AI judgments align with precedent and statute.
  • In medicine, it could cross-check diagnoses against the DSM, treatment protocols, and patient data.

A second fact-verification layer could further bolster reliability, scanning conclusions for factual inconsistencies. Together, these layers would mitigate the risks of automation while enabling AI to confidently replace rote professionals.

Resistance and the Real Battle Ahead

Predictably, the entrenched elites of medicine, law, and the judiciary will resist these changes. After all, their prestige and salaries are predicated on the illusion that their roles are irreplaceable. But history isn’t on their side. Industries driven by memorisation and routine application—think bank tellers, travel agents, and factory workers—have already been disrupted by technology. Why should these professions be exempt?

The real challenge lies not in whether AI can replace these roles but in public trust and regulatory inertia. The transformation will be swift and irreversible once safeguards are implemented and AI earns confidence.

Critical Thinking: The Human Stronghold

Professions that thrive on unstructured problem-solving, creativity, and emotional intelligence—artists, philosophers, innovators—will remain AI-resistant, at least for now. But the rote professions, with their dependency on standardisation and precedent, have no such immunity. And that is precisely why they are AI’s lowest-hanging fruit.

It’s time to stop pretending that memorisation is intelligence, that precedent is innovation, or that authority lies in a gown or white coat. AI isn’t here to make humans obsolete; it’s here to liberate us from the tyranny of rote. For those willing to adapt, the future looks bright. For the rest? The machines are coming—and they’re cheaper, faster, and better at your job.

Warmth

My mind is a Pachinko machine; my brain fatigued. Add to this the environmental distractions, such as breakfast, and it’s not conducive to focus. Today, it’s scrambled eggs and dry muffins—sans jam or butter, only some whipped substitute unfit for human consumption,

My prompt for writing the recent post on Professionalism was my reaction to the hospital staff and their demeanour—or as a colleague suggested in a comment, decorum. Perhaps I can remain focused on the words on this page as I type.

For service staff, warmth is a necessary ingredient of professionalism. This is particularly true for persons in the healing arts. The top indicator for pursuing legal action in a medical malpractice suit is the doctor’s bedside manner—personality and disposition—, whether the patient feels a personal connexion—a human connexion.

My experience in hospital is that the Medical Doctors have been hit or miss in the department—more miss than hit. I can even recall the names of the memorable ones. I suppose were I to be ill-treated, I’d remember as well. Here, it’s either treated nicely as a human or otherwise as an object in an assembly line. Thankfully, there have been no mistreatments or abuse.

The Registered Nurses had a better warmth ratio. Asking my circle of family, friends, and associates, this seems to be the general consensus. The rest of the staff were somewhere in between.

This warmth or human connexion extends beyond healthcare and to the service industry where human-to-human contact is made, even where that connexion is virtual—perhaps more so in order to bridge the distance. In my experience, the human factor tends to fall more at or below the level of the Medical Doctors. Any warmth is accidental. I am not saying that the people themselves lack compassion—though that could be the case. Rather, I am saying that they are moulded into automatons by the systems they are part of. It saps people of their humanity.

I started writing a post titled Bureaucracy is Violence, but I never completed it because I got lost in research. In a nutshell, bureaucracy is a Procrustean bed. I’ll leave it there for now. If you know, you know. Meantime, rage against the machine.

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

— Dylan Thomas

Pride

“Tell me about an accomplishment that made you proud?”

I received this question in a recent interview. This question is an awkward position for a postmodern to respond to.

For someone like me, it’s like asking me what’s my favourite dinosaur. I suppose it’s fine to ask a 7-year-old, but it doesn’t work for me for several reasons.

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Brontosaurus

First, I don’t really react to ‘proud’. I’m a collaborator. Even so, I don’t see why I (or we) would be proud of an accomplishment. And. I’m not much into the notion of attachment. Siddhartha would be proud. (Just kidding. )

For this piece, I looked up the definition of ‘proud’:

feeling deep pleasure or satisfaction as a result of one’s own achievements,
qualities, or possessions or those of someone with whom one is closely
associated.

So, it’s not enough to be satisfied that you’ve accomplished what you’ve set out to do. Proud and pride are odd concepts to me. Some people are proud to be part of some nationality or ethnic group—proud American or proud Italian. Obviously, these are not accomplishments. I suppose if one has to pass a citizenship test, then it might count as an accomplishment. I’m not sure it rises to the level of ‘pride’. I’m proud because we won the football match?

But the question posed to me was about work accomplishments. I’m not sure that my response was taken as authentic. And how could it have been? If I respond that the bronotsaurus is my favourite dinosaur, do you think they’ll catch on that I just blurted out the first thing that came into my head?

My first response was that I was proud of the time I spent teaching and giving back. It was a fulfilling experience. Proud feels a bit of an overstatement. There was a project that ended up yielding longtail benefits, but again, what’s there to be proud of? And for the group or team to be proud doesn’t feel any better. ‘Yay! We won the Superbowl. Isn’t the winning enough’? Sour grapes, I guess. Right?

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Le Renard et les Raisins

As a think about it, pride is about attachment—specifically ego attachment. Christians have a saying that ‘Pride cometh before a fall’. It’s one of their cardinal sins. I’m not a Christian, but it seems to me that it is not to be encouraged.

As a Buddhist, one might focus on the attachment aspect. Pride is about living in the past instead of the now. It’s not very Zen. I’m not judging.

My biggest problem is that I presume that a person who asks this type of question actually buys into the whole pride thing. That doesn’t help my cause.

“Not to come across as a Marxist, but I’m not really into the ‘Proud’ thing. Here are some stock responses.

I ask myself, is pride related to competition, or can one be proud in a different environment? It seems that there’s a connection. And, of course, there’s ego.

I wasn’t sure whether to share this on my philosophical blog or my business blog. In the end, I opted for philosophics.

Diversity of thought

Je m’accuse. I’m such a bad blogger. I haven’t been focusing much lately, but given the recent events around #BlackLivesMatter, I’ve been doing some thinking. A lot has been said about diversity and inclusion—whether for black lives, females, LGBTQ+, or some other class—, but the issue is more complex and dimensional than a problem with intersectionality.

There is something to be said for experiential diversity, and the benefits of virtual cross-pollination may have some advantages, but much of this is superficial diversity-washing, enough to claim a public relations participation award.

I keep Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex close to the top of my mind much of the time, but this is more than just about feminism. It’s about otherism—the otherness that creates outgroups.

In Beauvoir’s parlance, there are men and there are not-men—others. This is similar to Baudrillard’s dog/not-dog distinction but with more intention, so we arrive at an orthodox/not-orthodox pairing.

Taking workplace diversity as a frame, that they accept blacks, or women, or disabled, or some other identified class is superficial because the common thread is an acceptance of the prevailing meta-narratives, not only of Capitalism, Democracy, meritocracy, authority structures, and the like. As long as you comply with this mindset, sex and gender, the colour of one’s skin, or disability is cosmetic.

To some extent, there will be some diversity of thought. There will be some cultural perspectives, some generational perspectives, and some gender perspectives, but all of these are aligned to the overarching narrative.

In the world—in the United States anyway—, it’s OK to be black or Hispanic as long as you act ‘white’ or ‘American’. Speak with a neutral accent. Listen to mainstream pop. Don’t wear culturally identifiable clothing. This will ensure acceptance. In a way, this is a faux pas of Donald Trump. He comes across as vulgar to those who hold this perspective.

The diversity that’s missing is one that would do things differently. When a woman ascends to a CEO position, she has done so by more or less mimicking the path a man would probably have taken, making similar decisions. Ditto for a black. Double ditto for a black woman.

People outside of this narrow path will not ascend. I’ll ignore the question of whether this is even a worthwhile aim, A woman who takes this path may have to break through a glass ceiling, but for those of us with a more diverse mindset, the ceiling is stainless steel—a meter thick.

But this is for more than CEOs. I am a self-aware eccentric, and although I colour within the lines my thought is typically outside of accepted boundaries. Luckily, I’ve had the good fortune to work with the right people in the right environments to capitalise rather than be hampered by this difference. I’ve been lucky enough to operate with relative autonomy because over the years I’ve generally met or exceeded expectations on my own path.

During a review—or at least a conversation—about a decade ago, a manager told me that he had no idea how I operated but that he didn’t want to interfere for fear of breaking the goose laying the golden eggs. I know this was difficult for him to do and to admit because he is a very structured thinker and felt compelled to create repeatable structures (despite ignoring the structure when it came to him—and, thankfully, me).

This same person—whom I admire despite our having different worldviews—also noted that I operate as a director or orchestrator rather than a typical leader. I feel this is spot on. Even as early as high school, I articulated that I did not consider myself to be either a leader or a follower. I was a self-professed adviser, so it’s no surprise that I find myself in consulting and advisory roles. I realise that in the United States, the world is constructed to be more diametrically than it would otherwise need to be, so I end up being a veritable unicorn in most settings.

As those who know me, my first career was in the entertainment field, where diversity is more part of the rule than the exception—though there are still many normies there, too. My ex-wife asked me countless time why I left the music industry, or didn’t stick to academics or activism, each with their own level of interest to me.

The problem is that this diverse perspective is not something a resume can convey very well as there needs to be a great deal of trust, which is not typically in place for new hires, so many, let’s say, organic and creative thinkers, get left out of the equation to the detriment of cultural diversity.