One day you’re onboarding with a laminated checklist; the next, your job description has quietly grown a second, invisible page titled “Also: become an AI power user yesterday.” The workplace didn’t flip a switch—it bled into a new form. Tools that were “pilot programs” in 2023 now gate your next promotion. Dashboards talk to dashboards. Managers talk to dashboards about you. And somewhere between the daily stand-up and the “quick” handover doc, the human body—your human body—started filing wellness complaints.
That “I’m overwhelmed” feeling isn’t imaginary. LinkedIn’s latest global research reports that more than half of professionals say learning AI feels like taking on a second job; over four in ten say the pace of AI change is hitting their well-being. Younger workers feel it most—and, yes, Gen Z is almost twice as likely as Gen X to, ahem, embellish their AI skills at work. It’s bravado as a coping mechanism in a culture that’s sprinting while the training wheels are still in the box.
There’s a strange myth that because Gen Z grew up online, they should thrive in AI-heavy offices by default. That’s like assuming the kid who mastered Mario Kart is automatically great at driving a delivery truck through Lagos at rush hour. Consumer tech fluency does not equal enterprise tooling mastery, particularly when the tools are still maturing and the stakes involve client revenue, compliance, and your annual review.
Microsoft’s Work Trend Index—based on large global samples and, yes, those trillions of productivity signals—has spent the past two years saying the same quiet part out loud: the pace and volume of information are outstripping our cognitive bandwidth. People want AI to help, but most organizations haven’t redesigned work to make the help actually helpful. Translation: we handed everyone a jetpack, then kept the same obstacle course.
If you felt like the bottom rungs on the career ladder got sawed off, that’s because some of them did. A new working paper from Stanford’s Digital Economy Lab, using ADP payroll microdata, finds that since late 2022—the generative-AI tipping point—employment for early-career workers (ages 22–25) has fallen sharply in the occupations most exposed to AI automation, even after controlling for firm-level shocks. The headline number: a roughly 13% relative decline for young workers in the most exposed roles. Notably, the hit concentrates where AI automates tasks, not where it primarily augments them.
This isn’t hand-wavy vibes; it’s administrative payroll data. ADP’s own research team, which previously flagged the chilling trend for software developers, calls the Stanford results “dramatic layers of additional information.” Two things can be true at once: overall employment keeps growing, and entry-level pathways in certain fields are narrowing—especially in software, customer support, and other routine-heavy work where junior tasks are the easiest to replace.
So, when Gen Z says the market feels worse than it did for older cohorts at the same stage, that isn’t snowflake theater—it’s a structural squeeze. The “learn by doing” apprenticeship moments are exactly what the bots are learning to do.
The wellness story isn’t just about vibes, either. LinkedIn’s global survey pegs 51% of professionals saying AI upskilling is essentially a second job; 41% say the pace of AI is denting their well-being. Younger workers feel it more acutely, and they’re more likely to bluff competence to avoid stigma. Bluffing, unsurprisingly, increases stress. It’s amazing how pretending to know everything makes you feel like you know nothing.
Broaden the lens and you find a mixed scientific picture: algorithmic tools can reduce drudge work and cognitive load—think documentation, coding boilerplate, or billing—but they can also amplify surveillance, tighten timers, and turn “guidance” into grinding. OECD’s review on algorithmic management captures this double edge succinctly: better decision-making and fewer mundane tasks on the plus side; lower job satisfaction, higher stress, and privacy invasions on the minus. Context—how the tech is deployed—does most of the damage or the healing.
Peer-reviewed work on technostress and algorithmic management echoes the theme. Studies link AI-driven change and monitoring to higher job stress, burnout, and depressive symptoms—especially where psychological safety is thin and leadership treats adoption like a compliance project instead of a capability build. Meanwhile, early evidence also shows AI can ease strain when it actually removes toil (not just measures it). Welcome to the Schrödinger’s-Tool era: both soothing and stressful until you open the box and look at your implementation.
Let’s address the spicy take. “They grew up with AI; how can they be overwhelmed by it?” First, they didn’t grow up with this AI at this pace inside these org charts. Generative AI hit the mainstream in late 2022; enterprise deployment is barely toddler-aged. Second, the data says the earliest labor-market hits landed squarely on junior roles. If your first job starts where your boss’s job used to start—because AI ate the low-stakes learning tasks—you’re not coddled; you’re airborne without runway.
Third, the LinkedIn numbers aren’t just “feelings”; they’re consistent across 19,000 professionals globally. Younger workers do feel the pace more, and they do compensate socially with confidence theater. That’s not moral failure. That’s a predictable social response to a high-stakes skills scramble. No one gets a free pass—but let’s not confuse swagger with laziness or stress with entitlement.
The problem isn’t that AI exists. It’s that we laced it into workflows built for a pre-AI world and told humans to “figure it out.” Microsoft’s Work Trend Index keeps pointing to the same bottleneck: we add tools without subtracting noise. We ask people to learn AI in their spare time while keeping every legacy process. That’s how you turn “automation” into “after-hours.”
On the culture side, algorithmic management goes wrong when it replaces discretion with dashboards and treats assistance as surveillance. A model summarizing your meeting is a gift; a model judging your “engagement score” is an ulcer. The difference is design intent and leadership literacy. The same papers that link AI adoption to stress also show a mediating role for psychological safety and a moderating role for ethical leadership. Translation: When leaders make room for learning, the anxiety curve bends. When they don’t, HR becomes a triage center.
If you’re Gen Z, here’s the unwelcome news dressed as an opportunity: you don’t get to sit this one out. The jetpack is here. You can resent the training regimen, or you can own it faster than the org knows how to teach it. That doesn’t mean faking competence; it means replacing bluffing with public practice. The LinkedIn data shows people increasingly trust their networks over search and AI for career decisions. In a world where everyone is confused, the person who documents their learning becomes the person others follow.
If you’re a leader, here’s the equally unwelcome news: stress is not a price of admission; it’s a design flaw. The evidence base is boringly consistent: AI helps when it removes toil and expands judgment; it harms when it adds metrics and subtracts meaning. No incentive scheme outruns a broken workflow. Want fewer “overwhelmed” posts and fewer bluffing twenty-somethings? Make time to learn together, strip out zombie processes, and stop measuring everything that moves just because you can.
The temptation is to pick a villain. Boomers won’t change. Millennials won’t stop managing. Gen Z can’t handle reality. It’s all lazy writing. The real story is about speed: not whether AI makes work better or worse, but whether our institutions can change fast enough to make the better parts win. Right now, the data says workers are optimistic about AI in principle and overwhelmed in practice; entry-level ladders are missing rungs in certain fields; and culture is chasing a moving target with yesterday’s shoes. That’s not doom. It’s a to-do list.
And no, Gen Z doesn’t get a special grievance card—but they also didn’t saw off the ladder. If we want fewer performative “AI ninjas” and more actual competence, we have to rebuild the early-career runway and stop pretending that a monthly lunch-and-learn is a training strategy. The future of work isn’t “humans vs. machines.” It’s “humans vs. nonsense.” Let’s start winning the right battle.