Lessons from a Broken Pipe in the Age of AI

Our close friend has lived with a broken bathroom pipe for the past seven days. Water seeped through tiles, and every day began with the familiar, frustrating sound of dripping. He tried to fix it himself — applied sealants, adjusted connections, tightened every joint he could see. But nothing worked. The problem persisted, defying all his educated attempts. Now, this friend is not just anyone. He holds advanced degrees, has served in hospitals, written research papers, and spoken at international conferences. He is the kind of professional society admires — accomplished, articulate, and widely respected. Yet here he was, unable to fix a leaking pipe. As the days passed and the discomfort grew, so did his humility. He couldn’t help but reflect on a simple, uncomfortable truth: none of his qualifications had prepared him to solve a basic plumbing issue. He spent hours looking for a plumber and realised that finding one wasn’t so easy anymore. Perhaps, he thought, these are the professionals of the future, the ones whose work will be truly irreplaceable.


Prestige, AI, and the shifting landscape
His experience sparked a deeper conversation. For decades, in India and elsewhere, specific careers have been celebrated as the gold standard — doctors, engineers, corporate professionals. These were the “respectable” paths parents proudly told their neighbours about. But now, the world is changing rapidly. A new force has entered the equation: Artificial Intelligence (AI).
In recent years, AI systems have begun to do things that once required years of human training — reading scans, writing essays, drafting contracts, coding software. Our friend, a doctor, has seen AI suggest accurate diagnoses. He has seen it summarize complex scientific literature and assist in decision-making. And while AI may not replace human professionals outright, it is reshaping their roles. What happens when a large part of a doctor or engineer’s work can be done by a machine in seconds?
And then he returned to his bathroom — still waiting for that elusive plumber.
That’s when it struck him: no AI in the world could fix that pipe. No algorithm could crouch under a sink, measure a cracked joint, and replace it with precision and instinct. Technologies can simulate thought and language, but they still can’t replicate the intuitive craftsmanship of human hands — not yet, and perhaps not for a long time.
The jobs we once overlooked — plumbing, farming, carpentry, masonry — are becoming harder to automate. They require adaptability, dexterity, and a kind of situational intelligence that no code can yet replicate. Time and AI are making these professions more precious, while the so-called “precious” jobs of the past slowly lose their pedestal.


The timeless dignity of labour
This humbling experience reminded us of something fundamental: our society has long operated under a false hierarchy of work. We glorify the cardiac surgeon but rarely pause to appreciate the hospital janitor. We praise the engineer who builds an app, but not the electrician who powers his home. How fragile this hierarchy becomes when the realities of daily life assert themselves.
A leaking pipe, a broken motor, a field waiting to be tilled — these are not small things. They are life-enabling functions that we take for granted until they stop working. And when they do, we rediscover the value of those we had ignored. These are the people — the plumbers, farmers, masons, and mechanics — without whom our modern lives would collapse in days.
There is a philosophy known as the dignity of labour — the idea that all work, when done with honesty and skill, is worthy of respect. That philosophy feels more urgent now than ever before. As AI continues to take over white-collar tasks, manual and skilled work may well become the new elite — because it cannot be replicated so easily.
India, unfortunately, still struggles with this. Only a small fraction of our workforce has formal vocational training. We have long glorified degrees over skills, and desk jobs over toolkits. And yet, ask any family who’s waited days for a plumber, or any city that’s depended on sanitation workers during a pandemic — and they’ll tell you what true value looks like.


Work, humility, and spiritual wisdom
The Bhagwad Gita offers a timeless message about work and ego that feels especially relevant today. It teaches that one should focus not on the rewards of their work, but on doing it with sincerity and dedication. What matters is the intent, not the applause.
When that plumber finally arrived to fix the broken pipe, he didn’t come looking for recognition. He came because it was his job, and he did it with quiet expertise. He didn’t need to explain his qualifications or cite his training. He simply observed, acted, and resolved the issue — calmly and confidently.
It reminded us of another teaching from the Gita : that it is better to do one’s own duty, however modest, than to imitate another’s path, however grand it may appear. Not everyone is meant to be a doctor or engineer — and that’s not a failure. It is, in fact, a kind of wisdom to know your calling and to honour it, however humble it may seem.
And perhaps most importantly, the Gita says that the wise see all beings with equal regard — whether it’s a scholar or a labourer, a cow or a dog, the divine exists in each. We must see that divinity not just in temples or textbooks, but in the calloused hands of a carpenter, the sweat-streaked brow of a farmer, the muddy boots of a mason.
These teachings invite us to let go of arrogance, and to approach work — both our own and others’ — with reverence.
As parents, teachers, and members of a changing society, we must rethink what we encourage our children to become. If a child wants to be a builder, a gardener, a craftsman — let us support that with the same pride we would offer an aspiring engineer. The future will not be shaped by degrees alone, but by the ability to do what machines cannot — to build, to care, to repair, to nourish.
This is not a rejection of ambition — it is an expansion of what ambition can mean. A life of value does not have to be lived behind a desk. It can also be found on a farm, in a workshop, or on a scaffold — wherever there is honest work, done well. When that pipe was finally repaired, our friend stood in awe. A task that had defeated his intelligence was solved in minutes by a man who had never given a lecture or published a paper. And in that moment, he felt nothing but deep, heartfelt respect.
So here’s our invitation: as we embrace AI and digital revolutions, let’s also renew our reverence for the human hand, the grounded skill, the invisible worker. Let’s raise our children to respect all work — and maybe even choose the paths that society used to overlook. Because in the world ahead, it may be these very paths that keep us grounded, connected, and truly human.


Authored by: Shambo Samrat Samajdar and Shashank R Joshi