John Steinbeck told us “The last, clear, definite function of man, muscles aching to work, minds aching to create beyond the single need. This is man.” He was writing “The Grapes of Wrath”, his immortal book about the great depression in America in the 1930s. If you have never read it, please do so now. The era has changed but the problem is again ahead of us. Jobs are being taken over by AI. Many more will be in the next few years.
What will answer the aching muscles and the aching minds?
We are a creative species. The present state of the world demands a higher standard of creativity – about who we are and what we want – than we have been called to conjure at any time in my life. We are no longer asked simply to produce. We must imagine and reimagine to create meaning in a world where the old orders of labour and identity are being dismantled. Machines are mimicking our tasks, but they cannot ache. Nor do they yearn. And they will not dream beyond their programming.
The aching, the restless human spirit is our compass.
I’m not trying to resist technology or romanticize the past. My spirit and yours are a call to deepen our humanity. To ask not just what clever things we can do, but what wise things we must now demonstrate to remain whole. Creativity is no longer a luxury, it is a survival skill. It is how we join together broken meaning; how we respond to fear with vision.
In the age of AI, the most valuable resource is not efficiency, it is imagination.
The ability to see what isn’t yet visible, to say what hasn’t yet been voiced, to build what isn’t yet conceived. This is not limited to artists and philosophers. It belongs to teachers who reimagine learning, to parents who invent new ways of connecting, to entrepreneurs designing systems of care and sustainability.
It belongs to all who ask, “What shall we make of our lives?”
And yet, creativity demands space. It demands silence, slowness, and sometimes even suffering. It is not always profitable. It is sometimes plodding. But it is always human. In a world that increasingly rewards speed and replication, we must protect the slower work of original thought. We must honor the aching mind not just with distraction, but with depth.
Steinbeck’s words remind us that the function of man is not merely to survive, but to create beyond necessity. To make beauty, to make meaning, to make progress for the status quo. The future will not be built by algorithms alone. It will be shaped by the questions we ask, the stories we tell, and the courage we summon to imagine something better.
We will not only mourn the loss of old jobs. We must celebrate the birth of new callings. Let us not fear the machine without also reclaiming the mystery of being human. The aching muscles and minds are not obsolete – they are the beginning. They are the signal that we are still alive, still reaching, still capable of creating a world worthy of our deepest longings.
A friend asked me “What have you made of your life?” I answered “A little, but it was my creation”. He replied “If I can say that I will be satisfied”. I believe he will.
I believe you will, too.
Good morning
John Bittleston
Don’t just tell us, ask us if you’d like to. We’ll always give you an answer.
The address: [email protected]
23 September 2025
