The author's great-great-grandfather worked as a farrier in Mandres-en-Barrois, a small village in rural France, where he shoed horses and repaired farmers' carts. When he encountered automobiles - either by seeing one drive through a neighboring town or reading about them in the paper - he faced the prospect of his livelihood being replaced by new technology. After what the author describes as 'a long stretch of grief at trading his horses for engine grease,' he transitioned to working as a mechanic, continuing the family tradition of work centered on helping people get around, but with updated technology from horses to engines.
The author draws a direct parallel between this historical experience and contemporary anxieties among software developers about AI potentially replacing their jobs. He notes that while people often claim 'AI is the biggest revolution since the Industrial Revolution' and that 'we're going through a transformation unlike anything we've seen before,' this overlooks how previous technological shifts like the arrival of tractors and automobiles also provoked similar fears among those whose livelihoods were directly affected. Like the farrier who watched cars arrive, today's developers wonder 'what on earth they were going to do, imagining the worst' when confronted with advancing technology, reflecting a timeless human response to technological disruption of familiar work.
Beyond the career transition narrative, the author suggests that what people value in their work may extend beyond the specific technical skills they employ. Reflecting on his family's multigenerational work in transportation despite changing tools, he wonders 'what if what we loved about this job was never only the code?' He observes that many developers report being 'driven more by the joy of making things, solving problems, and seeing people use what we built than by the act of coding itself,' noting that 'many of us decided we wanted to be developers before learning to code, just to create video games or websites.' However, as a personal family history rather than broad historical analysis, the author acknowledges that his great-great-grandfather's experience doesn't prove broader trends about technological adaptation, stating 'Not every farrier became a mechanic, and I'd never have heard of the ones who didn't. So I won't pretend his story proves anything,' while still finding value in the perspective it offers on finding continuity in purpose amid change.