Abundance, Automation & the Moshiach Vision

Rambam’s Blueprint

In the climactic halachah of Mishneh Torah, Rambam offers a vision of the world transformed:

“In that era… the occupation of the entire world will be solely to know G-d. There will be neither famine nor war, neither envy nor competition, for good things will be in abundance and all delicacies will be as common as dust.”

Hilchot Melachim 12:5

It is a striking duality: both spiritual and material needs are fulfilled, with human focus redirected from survival to divine awareness. But this vision raises an immediate question: if everyone is focused solely on knowing G-d, who is doing all the work?

Classic Solutions to a Modern Question

Commentators across generations have addressed this:

Rambam himself implies that scarcity and economic strife vanish. Without those constraints, physical labor becomes unnecessary. In Hilchot Teshuva 9:2, he adds that the sages longed for the Messianic age not for comfort, but to have time free from oppression so they could deepen their study and divine service.

The Rebbe expanded on this, explaining that physical needs will still be met, by “others.” Whether these “others” are gentiles, angels, or machines, the emphasis is that the burden of material maintenance will be lifted. The Rebbe often pointed to technological developments as tools that free up time for Torah and good deeds.

Rav Kook offered a more integrated perspective: even the remaining labor will be elevated to divine service, creative, ethical, and purpose-driven work as a form of worship.

In all these views, humanity transitions from surviving to thriving in divine awareness. The world of Moshiach doesn’t eliminate action; it reorients it.

The Role of AI: A Catalyst, Not a Redeemer

Enter artificial intelligence.

What once sounded like utopian speculation is now rapidly becoming reality. Goldman Sachs (2023) projected that AI could disrupt 300 million jobs globally. The IMF echoed this in 2024, estimating that nearly 40% of jobs are vulnerable across advanced economies. Elon Musk has publicly stated that “probably none of us will have a job” in the near AI-dominated future. Futurist Adam Dorr suggests that virtually all work could be automated by 2045.

What happens when machines do most of the work, better, faster, and cheaper than humans?

A new paradox emerges: AI drives unprecedented abundance, but simultaneously erases the need for human labor. With few earning wages, demand collapses, yet supply continues. Eventually, companies may have little choice but to give away goods, creating a situation where “delicacies will be as common as dust.”

This is prophecy fulfilled via simple economics.

Strikingly, a spectrum of prominent Israeli academics, from secular to religious, have independently acknowledged that if AI wipes out the majority of jobs, modern society may have to adopt a model eerily similar to that of full-time Torah study:

Yuval Noah Harari, an avowed atheist and cultural critic of religion, noted that if 90-95% of jobs vanish, we may find ourselves in “a learner-society model, like the haredim, only without the faith.” Despite his deep reservations about religion, Harari acknowledged the kollel framework as a plausible social response.

Prof. Dan Ben-David, a secular economist concerned with Israeli economic sustainability, has warned that large segments of the population may need to reorient around non-productive frameworks, pointing to existing haredi models of non-labor-based identity.

Prof. Yedidia Stern, a religious-Zionist thinker, half-jokingly remarked that “we might all become kollelniks” in a universal basic income scenario, while affirming the spiritual depth such a model could offer.

From across the ideological map, there seems to be an emerging consensus: the kollel-style framework, long dismissed by secular culture, may become an unexpectedly universal model in the age of AI.

Not Redemption, But Readiness

Importantly, this abundance is not the geulah itself. The belief that Moshiach is long overdue is nearly universal among Jews of faith. We do not mistake technology for redemption, certainly not when spiritual confusion, violence, and moral breakdown still persist.

But the Rebbe emphasized that many modern developments may be preparatory steps toward that redemption. He cited world events as signs that the world is becoming ready to receive Moshiach:

1991 Gulf War: he declared the unexpectedly swift victory a foretaste of Isaiah’s vision of universal peace.

Collapse of the Soviet Union (1990-91): the bloodless end of a superpower and the free emigration of Soviet Jews, he said, echoed the prophecy “they shall beat their swords into plowshares.”

Global satellite broadcasts of farbrengens: instant Torah across continents, he noted, is a living preview of “all flesh will see together” (Isaiah 40:5).

These are not redemption itself, but mile-markers showing a world increasingly capable of accommodating it.

Halachic Urgency: Living As If Today

Because no one knows when Moshiach will come, but we believe with certainty that he will, halachah instructs perpetual readiness.

Classic proof: a kohen may not become intoxicated, since in the brief time it takes to sober up, the Beit HaMikdash could be rebuilt and he might be summoned to serve. The Rambam codifies this law not as metaphor, but as practical halachah. The Rebbe invoked it often to remind us that preparedness for Moshiach must shape everyday behavior.

A Road Map for Humanity

So what now? If AI is truly on the cusp of taking over most of human labor, then the world is approaching a moment when material survival will no longer be the defining struggle of life. What takes its place must be spiritual purpose.

Here is where we, the Jewish people, come in.

For centuries, Jews have been charged with the mission to be “a light unto the nations” (Isaiah 42:6). That light has always meant ethical monotheism, moral clarity, and a life devoted to the divine. As the chosen people, for privilege, but more importantly for responsibility, we may now be entering a chapter where that mission becomes global in a new and urgent way.

This moment may be our great opportunity, our calling, to help the world reimagine human purpose. Not through conversion, nor by pulling others from their religions (which, if they’re monotheistic and non-idolatrous, are legitimate pathways for them), but by inviting all people to discover soul-level meaning. To understand that their worth doesn’t come from productivity, but from being created in the image of G-d.

We must:

Call all of humanity to spiritual purpose: Until now, religious language was often relegated to weekends or clergy. As work fades, everyone must ask, “What fills my time?” We must advocate for lives centered on growth, connection, prayer, contemplation, wisdom, and service.
Redefine dignity in spiritual terms: People must be honored for who they are, not just what they do or earn.
Offer paths to meaning for the displaced: As jobs disappear, we must provide not just financial support, but opportunities for learning, volunteering, mentorship, and community building.
Steward AI toward holiness: We must not surrender this tool to profit-driven chaos. Technology must serve the elevation of humanity, not its replacement.

And a crucial point for our own people: while AI may eventually become capable of analyzing Torah with astonishing depth, it will never exempt a Jew from the obligation to learn it. Limud Torah is a chiyuv gavra, a personal obligation, not a task that simply needs doing. Just as one cannot outsource tefillin or Shabbat observance, so too the study of Torah must remain a direct human endeavor.

Conclusion

Artificial intelligence may soon flood the world with goods beyond our capacity to consume. But only humanity can decide whether the next era will be one of spiritual emptiness or divine awareness.

The Rambam described a world where abundance clears the way for divine knowledge. That world may be closer than we imagined. But the choice of what to do with that abundance is ours, and our responsibility to help others do the same is the very reason we were chosen.

Let us be ready. Because even before the ink of this sentence dries, Moshiach could come.