food is humanity in the age of ai: Part one

A brave new world of hospitality in the AI age.

"Where do I fit into an unsure future that extends beyond a horizon I can’t quite yet see?"

“What path through life should I take when so many careers now seem unstable?”

“What happens to me as a cook in the oncoming age of AI disruption?”

Inside of every cook there is, in one form or another, a desire to care for other human beings with food. Having the will and motivation to spend countless hours each week in a hot, chaotic environment of loosely controlled chaos to create a thing of beauty that lasts for only a few short minutes before being devoured. Making the act of trust and care to painstakingly craft edible art that brings excitement and energy to another human being. 

In the realm of the professional kitchen, we put together some of the most motley crews under the sun. By far. While some other career paths try, none come close to the disparate range of humanity that end up together in the trenches of the world’s professional kitchens.

In my 33 years in various high level kitchens, I have worked on teams alongside ex-cons, vagabonds, ski bums, single moms, soccer moms, devoted dads, dead beat dads, career changers, coke heads, Dead Heads, deeply devoted Muslims, penitent Christians, smiling Buddhists, angsty anarchists, atheists, nihilists and even some people who claimed to worship the devil – ha! But that barely scratches the surface. 

The kitchen is a lively world with never a dull moment, and yet the core of what brings these diverse and varied people together to put in long hours in hot, stressful environments all grows out of a distinctly human, similar place. Even some of the most misanthropic people that find their way into the kitchen, “skeptical of society,” “averse to authority,” and distrustful of so-called Humanity, ironically spend the majority of their waking hours putting love and concerted effort into creating something so intimate that another human being will ultimately put it inside their body.  

I have found that even the most devoted kitchen grouch, when approached in the right light, will admit that one of the fundamental reasons they got into cooking was a deep desire to be creative and to see the positive effect of their work on the contented faces of those eating their food.  It gives cooks happiness to know they did something that was good for someone else.

Yes, some of that fulfillment is for us as chefs, but without doubt, it is equally about the other; that giving of life energy, returning to strength, bringing back from hunger, and even evoking joy in a set of flavors, ingredients, and techniques that are entirely unique to that chef or restaurant.  Food and cooking provide an occasion to be together with people we care about, and at heart, we are social beings; we need to be in the presence of others at least some of the time.

Communal meal experience over Asian Hot Pot style dining.

“You put your heart into your cooking for the people you love because everyone can feel it and taste it. You may not tell people you love them every day with words, but you do, with what you cook for them.”

We see the love of community and coming together in America around backyard grills and smokers, in parking lots before football games, on picnic tables covered in boiled shrimp and lemons, in breweries and gastro-pubs, Kalua pig and poke at a luau and in millions of Thanksgiving dinners happening every autumn across our great nation.

Around the world we see versions of it in every culture: communal Hot Pot in Hong Kong during the winter months, overflowing family style dishes on the tables of Italy, seated cross-legged on the floors of humble homes breaking handmade bread across the Middle East, savoring beef asado around a live fire in Argentina, throwing some shrimp on the barbie in Australia; the list is endless.

In Latin American nothing is truer than the statement, “comida es amor” – food is love. There, you put your heart into your cooking for the people you love because everyone can feel it and taste it. You may not tell people you love them every day with words, but you do with what you cook for them. Cooking is not just a chore or a pastime; it is an act of love to ensure that your people are well cared for.

So, no matter how much skepticism or disdain for society we chefs may feel, in our actions and travails to feed, nourish, sustain, and lift up other individuals each day, we demonstrate the key characteristic on which all of hospitality depends: Humanity.

Hold that thought for a moment.
The beginning of the industrial age set off an increase in the rate and frequency of change across our planet that hasn’t slowed since and continues to accelerate with every year, month, week, and day that passes. Looking at the evening news, we see, among other troubling themes, ominous changes in the labor market as these incredible technological advances take shape in the digital workplace, displacing human workers and quickly rendering whole educational paths that just years ago were seen as a guarantee of long-term professional wealth and glory less relevant.

If machines took our muscle back in the Industrial Revolution with the development of motors and assembly lines, and artificial intelligence threatens to displace our minds in the data, digital, and “thought work” mediums in the short-term future, just where does that leave us as humans in this turbulent world?

The answers can feel discouraging, and even the early fathers and pioneers of AI are living in a state of suspended disbelief when asked what career advice they would give their children and grandchildren. “Study to become a plumber.” Was the answer given by Geoffrey Hinton, Nobel Prize winner and widely monikered “Godfather of AI.” Pursue a non-digital field of expertise that won't be AI-replaced as fast.

As a forty-something kitchen “old guy,” I spend a lot of time talking with our younger cooks here at the Club to gain perspective on how they view their futures and our profession. They are next up in the long line of the world’s great chefs. The baton is being passed to them.  We need them to be feeling it, but are they? 

Their thoughts and comments on this topic range from optimistic to pessimistic. 

Concerns from those with more active anxiety include: 

• AI displacement is unavoidable and somewhat terrifying.
  
• Money controls the world, and the motivation for rapid AI development does not have Humanity’s best interests at heart.
  
• Many of my friends in tech/data fields either cannot get a job or realize that their jobs are in danger of displacement sooner or later.

On the optimistic side: 

• If AI is calibrated to human values, then it has the potential to do incredible good in the world.
  
• If used correctly, humans could have a better quality of life.

Humans will always find a way.

On my team, one of the biggest concerns of 30+ year old chefs from a slightly older generation is about the concept of “living in a cell phone bubble. 

“Even the early fathers and pioneers of AI are living in a state of suspended disbelief when asked what career advice they would give their children and grandchildren. “Study to become a plumber.” was the answer given by Geoffrey Hinton, Nobel Prize winner and widely monikered “Godfather of AI.” Pursue a non-digital field of expertise that won’t be AI replaced as fast.”

I agree, as the kitchen grey beard, one major strand of this fraying community rope that I see so clearly is the growing tendency not to interact directly with other human beings. I showed my age a couple of years back by being astounded that some folks just entering the workforce felt immediate anxiety when their cell phone screens lit up with a call. “It’s rude to call someone without texting them first.”  Damn, just call me boomer, and oh, how things have changed. The anxiety that now comes when interacting with actual human people IRL instead of inside of a more controllable online world is a real thing.

Certainly, the Industrial and Information Revolutions brought us much in the way of the convenience that we all (including me!) enjoy, and many of those modern efficiencies have now resulted in us being able to get almost everything we need in life without needing to see, hear, smell, or talk to another person. For sure, we all want that option sometimes, but all the time? 

To some, that might feel preferable, but it omits essential elements of our fundamental human nature, and that can become problematic, as evidenced by the growing “loneliness epidemic” that contrasts starkly with how we humans are a social species and even introverts like me are, at some point, forced to concede that positive interaction with others is the fuel that makes the existential rockets go. 

In the West, we judge wealth in dollars and physical possessions, while other cultures would define it as quality time spent in good health, enjoying the passing of life with people that they love. Even if we don't have abundant possessions, we have our family and our friends to help us get through. Our need for community is undeniable.

So, if, in this wild and seemingly inevitable future that is materializing in front of us all, machines are stronger than me and AI agents are smarter than me, then what can I do? 

If I am more connected to the world than ever before but also feel lonelier, what is the path forward? If more and more industries are tilting away from employing humans, as a chef?

By Matthew Gilbert, Culinary Director, Executive Chef at Medinah Country Club.

The answers for chefs of the future, especially in the private club world, will be found in part two of “Food Is Humanity in the Age of AI,” running in the Winter/February 2026 edition of Golf Kitchen.

Matthew Gilbert, Culinary Director, Executive Chef at Medinah Country Club.