On a recent visit to Azerbaijan, I had a chance to see mud volcanoes. Seeing those eruptions, the craters, and the mud-like lava was quite an experience. Our friendly guide explained that Azerbaijan has more than half the mud volcanoes in the world. But that’s not the only lesson I learnt that day. Here’s something else that stayed with me, long after the trip had ended.
My friend and co-traveller is an avid photographer. Someone who lugs around his camera and bag of tricks-and-lenses, without a bother. Without fail. I prefer to just pull out my iPhone and take pictures. And here’s what I saw. My friend with the camera often got some amazing pictures, sure. But my amateurish attempts with my iPhone were pretty decent too. In fact, sometimes, I found I had caught a moment that the bigger fancier camera had missed, simply because it was easier and quicker to pull out the iPhone. I am sure it has occurred to you too that we all take some amazing photos – thanks to the superb camera phones. The quality of the phone camera has made the capability of the photographer somewhat redundant. Anyone can take great pictures with an iPhone.
And that made me think. About what tech is doing to our world. Reducing the scope for error, improving results. And making specialised skills – like photography – more democratic, accessible to all. Is the professional photographer’s future at stake, I wondered.
Since I started with the mud volcanoes, I must tell you more. They are located in a place called Gobustan, about 80 km from Azerbaijan’s capital city, Baku. We went in a bus to see the volcanoes, and then about 15 kilometres from the actual site, we had to get off. Everyone has to. You stop here and are moved into specialised vehicles that can handle the tough terrain that leads to the actual mud volcanoes. We were bundled into rickety, 70’s model
Lada cars – relics from Azerbaijan’s Russian past. The cars we were now seated in were clearly well past their best-before dates. And after slamming the doors shut, the driver took off. Literally. We drove through dirt tracks, puddles, steep slopes, and bushy tracks, all at speeds that were over the maximum the Lada was designed for. The windows were open, and so were our mouths, as the driver expertly drove through difficult terrain. Once we overcame the fear, we couldn’t but help admire the driver’s skills and expertise. The car may have been a rickety old one, but an expert, skilled driver made the Lada feel like a Ferrari. Well, almost.
And that made me think again. At a time when we are all worried about the impact of AI on the future of jobs, maybe we should think of the iPhone and the Lada. Like the camera in your smartphone, AI will lift overall standards, make once-sought-after skills seem redundant, and help ordinary folks do seemingly difficult tasks with ease. And yet, the Ladas around us will remain. Tasks, and jobs that will still require skill and expertise. It will be all about the driver. Not the car. Some tasks and jobs will go the iPhone way. Some the Lada way.
Good idea then to look at your role, your work, and ask the question. Does it resemble an iPhone or a Lada?