Are We Making It Human? Reflections 3 years on (inspired by Toy Story 5)
Last weekend we went to watch the latest Toy Story film.
I remember the first one arriving when I was a teenager. Now I'm watching the stories all over again with my own daughter.
Pixar has always mastered the art of telling stories that children and adults experience differently. The kids laugh at the toys. The parents recognise themselves somewhere between the nostalgia and the emotion.
But this time I left feeling more reflective than entertained.
One scene in particular has stayed with me.
The camera slowly pans across a neighbourhood at night. House after house glows blue through the windows. Not from families gathered together, but from children sitting silently in front of screens. Meanwhile, the toys wait patiently, no longer the centre of imaginary adventures but quietly collecting dust.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't dystopian. It simply felt familiar.
A crossroads
When I sat down to write Make It Human (around 3 years ago), the world itself seemed to be standing at a crossroads.
The pandemic had fundamentally changed how we worked. Hybrid working dominated every leadership conversation. Climate events were becoming impossible to ignore (more examples of that in recent weeks too).
Artificial intelligence was beginning to move from science fiction into everyday discussion.
At the time I found myself returning repeatedly to the work of Lynda Gratton, who described moments like these as periods of "unfreeze" – rare windows when old assumptions loosen and entirely new ways of working become possible before organisations settle back into familiar routines.
As a work psychologist, a leader, a mum and simply another human trying to make sense of it all, I wanted to explore what path we might choose.
Rather than trying to predict the future, I imagined two possible versions of 2038 – the year my daughter would likely enter the workforce.
One future was brilliantly efficient.
Everything faster. Smarter. More automated.
Homes containing everything we needed to work, socialise, exercise and be entertained. Drones delivering anything we needed, creating very little need to actually leave.
The other embraced the same technological advances, but asked a different question first:
What do humans need to thrive and grow?
That distinction felt important then. It feels even more important now.
My concern was never that machines would replace people.
It was that, in our excitement to optimise everything, we'd slowly optimise away the very experiences that allow people to flourish.
Autonomy to make meaningful choices.
A genuine sense of purpose.
Deep human connection.
The opportunity to learn through challenge rather than simply consume information, to develop, grow and make progress.
But without intention, fuel for human growth can gradually fade.
Until eventually we realise we've become incredibly efficient...
...but we feel lonely, isolated, numb, burnt out, demotivated… less human.
Three years on, I find myself asking the same question.
Were those concerns justified?
AI has become woven into everyday life far faster than most of us imagined.
Children are growing up in a world where intelligent technology feels completely normal. We're talking more openly than ever about wellbeing, belonging and psychological safety.
Yet many of the human indicators continue to move in the wrong direction.
Loneliness is rising
Stress remains stubbornly high
Employee engagement has stagnated
Global levels of thriving have fallen
We've become much better at talking about what people need. We're just not consistently creating it.
And perhaps that's because, once the urgency of the pandemic faded, many of us gradually drifted back towards what felt familiar.
The warning signs
Several recent pieces of research have particularly caught my attention.
The first concerns something most of us carry in our pockets.
Neuroscientist TJ Power does an excellent job of explaining what our phones are doing to our brains. The average adult now spends around 6 hours and 40 minutes each day looking at screens, almost 40% of our waking lives. Add AI-powered algorithms designed to keep us scrolling and it's hardly surprising that attention, connection and deep thinking are becoming harder to sustain.
The second relates to work and one of the biggest debates in recent years.
Recent research shared by Adam Grant suggests that leaders displaying stronger narcissistic traits were significantly more likely to oppose remote working – not necessarily because of evidence about performance, but because remote work reduced opportunities for status, visibility and control. I recall feeling intrigued at the number of leaders desperate to get back into offices and suits during the pandemic – perhaps the lack of visible status and hierarchy was the driver!
That doesn't mean every return-to-office decision is driven by ego. Many organisations are creating enormous value by bringing people together in person.
But it does remind us of something important. Our decisions are rarely driven by evidence alone.
They're also shaped by what makes us human:
Our instincts. Our fears. Our egos.
When I step back, these stories all seem connected. Whether it's children replacing play with scrolling, leaders choosing control over trust, or organisations optimising efficiency at the expense of connection.
The underlying challenge is remarkably similar.
As humans, we're naturally drawn towards whatever feels easiest, most rewarding in the short term or most protective of our own status.
Unfortunately, those short-term choices often undermine exactly what helps people and organisations flourish over the long term.
Reasons to be cheerful (and optimistic!)
Alongside the warning signs are countless examples of people choosing differently.
Jan-Emmanuel De Neve and colleagues continue to demonstrate the powerful relationship between wellbeing at work and organisational performance. Organisations where people experience higher wellbeing consistently outperform financially. Human growth and business growth are not competing priorities. They reinforce one another.
Zach Mercurio's research on mattering shows that people don't need grand engagement programmes to thrive. They need to know they are seen, heard, valued and needed. Those everyday moments of recognition create belonging far more effectively than many expensive initiatives ever will.
Bruce Daisley also highlighted a brilliant piece of research by Nicholas Epley showing just how impactful even a small interaction with a stranger on a train can have on our feelings of happiness – we just need a nudge to take the plunge (against our fears, instincts and ego) and engage!
Across many organisations there are glimmers too, all starting with deliberate design decisions. Microsoft deliberately replacing rank and status through knowledge, with a growth mindset and collaborative learning. Leaders at Octopus Energy bucking the status trend and deliberately keeping diaries open so they can walk the floor, connect and listen to teams, to build understanding.
And perhaps one of my favourite examples came just last week during one of our recent Make It Human Coffee & Culture conversations.
Fleur Vialatte, Head of People at MoveUp Media, shared how they have intentionally designed connection and belonging into a rapidly growing, fully remote organisation.
Yes – we can create meaningful, productivity fuelling connection even across entirely remote teams, if we design it in.
The biggest lesson I've learned
If there's one thing I've learned since writing Make It Human, it's this:
Knowing what we should do doesn't create change.
We have to intentionally create conditions for growth, and shape habits that make it feel effortless and rewarding, in the everyday.
James Clear describes habits as "the compound interest of self-improvement." Tiny actions, repeated consistently, eventually produce remarkable results.
The same is true of culture.
Cultures aren't transformed by values written on office walls. They're shaped by thousands of small habits repeated every single day.
That's why so much of my work now focuses on the bleed between what we know and what we do:
How do we make human growth effortless?
How do we create habits that naturally build trust?
How do we make connection easier in increasingly digital organisations?
How do we create environments where learning happens every day rather than once a year?
How do we shape cultures where business growth and human growth become the same conversation?
Those are the questions my clients and I continue to explore together. Creating a more human future isn't about rejecting technology.
It's about being intentional about how we use it to fuel human growth.
So... are we making it human?
Three years after writing the book, I don't think the answer is a straightforward yes. But neither do I think it's no.
I’m settling more on: We can, if we choose to.
As we walked away from the cinema, my daughter quietly said,
"I think I want to play more."
Perhaps children see the choice more clearly than we do.
It’s our role to create the conditions and build the habits to get the balance right.
Make It Human is available across booksellers - grab yourself a copy and see where you think we're heading.
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