The threat did not arrive with a bang. It slipped quietly into inboxes and workflows, disguised as efficiency. First it automated the tedious tasks no one wanted. Then it began to take over the work people were proud of. Now, in offices and on video calls around the world, employees are asking the same silent question: Am I next?

Artificial intelligence is no longer a distant, experimental technology. It is embedded in customer service, marketing, finance, logistics, law, journalism, design and software development. Tools that summarize documents, generate code, draft emails, design graphics and analyze data are being adopted at a pace that outstrips most previous workplace technologies. For many organizations, AI is not an experiment; it is a restructuring tool.

That restructuring is already visible. Call centers have replaced entire tiers of human agents with AI chatbots that can handle routine queries around the clock. Media companies are using AI to draft earnings reports, sports recaps and product descriptions, cutting the need for junior writers. Law firms are using AI to review contracts and discovery documents in a fraction of the time, reducing the billable hours once handled by armies of associates. In software development, AI coding assistants can generate boilerplate code and even propose full features, reshaping what entry-level engineering work looks like.

For workers, the pattern is unnervingly familiar. Positions once considered indispensable are quietly phased out. Hiring freezes are justified as “efficiency gains.” Teams are told to “do more with less” while new AI tools are rolled out. The message is rarely explicit, but it is clear: the organization is being redesigned around technology, not people.

In this environment, a new kind of fear has taken hold: the fear of becoming obsolete. FOBO is not abstract. It shows up in the way people overanalyze every email from their manager, in the way they scrutinize new software announcements, in the way they hesitate to ask direct questions about their future. Anxiety becomes the background noise of the workday.

Paradoxically, the people best positioned to calm that anxiety are often the ones going quiet. Many leaders are themselves unsure how AI will reshape their industry. They are under pressure from boards and investors to “adopt AI” without a clear roadmap. They are bombarded with vendor promises and dire warnings about being left behind. In that uncertainty, silence can feel like the safest option.

But silence is not neutral. When leaders avoid talking about AI, employees fill the gaps with worst-case scenarios. Rumors spread faster than memos. Collaboration suffers as people become more protective of their tasks and knowledge. Innovation stalls because no one wants to experiment themselves out of a job. A culture of suspicion takes root.

Leadership in the age of AI is not primarily a technical challenge; it is a communication challenge. The organizations that navigate this transition best will not be the ones that adopt the most tools the fastest. They will be the ones whose leaders are willing to speak plainly about what AI will change, what it will not change and what remains unknown.

That begins with honesty about intent. If the goal of bringing AI into the organization is cost-cutting and headcount reduction, pretending otherwise will only deepen mistrust. If the goal is to augment people’s capabilities, leaders must show concretely how that will work and what protections are in place for employees whose roles are most exposed.

Transparent leaders explain not just what technology is being introduced, but why. They describe which tasks are likely to be automated and which human skills will become more valuable. They acknowledge that some roles may shrink or disappear, and they pair that acknowledgment with a plan: retraining, redeployment, or clear timelines for transition. Even difficult news is easier to bear than a fog of uncertainty.

Crucially, this cannot be a one-time town hall or a carefully scripted email. AI is evolving too quickly for static answers. Teams need an ongoing conversation, a place where they can ask, “What does this tool mean for my job?” and get a candid response, even if that response is, “We don’t fully know yet, but here is how we’re going to figure it out together.”

That kind of conversation demands something many leaders have not practiced enough: being honest with themselves. It is impossible to build a culture of transparency about AI while privately clinging to denial or magical thinking. Leaders must confront their own fears: fear of appearing uninformed, fear of making the wrong bet on a technology, fear of admitting that some jobs will be lost on their watch.

Leadership has never been about avoiding discomfort. Yet in many organizations, the instinct when AI comes up is to change the subject, to offer vague reassurances, or to delegate the discussion to a technical team. The result is a widening gap between the decisions being made in executive meetings and the stories employees tell themselves in hushed conversations.