I wrote and delivered this speech to the graduating Communication Science Master’s degree cohort at the University of Amsterdam. Due to high request, and upon high exception, I am publicly releasing the (unedited) speech. May it inspire many to be brave and remember their humanity. Our future is in your hands, dear graduates. Take care of it.
Each year, I write a new speech for the graduating class. Some ideas return, but the theme is always different—something that reflects the moment you are stepping into. It has become a small tradition, and my final gift to you. As I write it, I take time to reflect on what your experience might have been during your time with us. I imagine how you battled statistical software while hoping the Methods Desk could somehow solve your struggles; managed group projects; worked late into the evening; questioned whether your theoretical framework might ever be finished; laughed with your friends; caffeinated (too) frequently; and left our classrooms tired but inspired. I think of you.
Each year, I search for a word that captures something essential about the moment you are graduating into. This year, the word that keeps returning to me is agency. Not just the ability to act, but something more fundamental: the ability to decide, to judge, and to remain the author of your own thoughts, your own attention, and your own voice. I choose this word because what has become increasingly clear is that agency—especially over what we know, what we believe, and what we share—is no longer something we can take for granted
You are the first cohort to graduate from the Graduate School of Communication where the basic conditions of communication have shifted fundamentally. You have studied in a time where generative AI was part of your everyday learning environment. Messages are no longer only written by people but also generated by systems. Information is not simply found, but constructed, predicted, and tailored.
Communication was once largely understood as something we – humans – did: something we produced, sent, and interpreted. But when you walked into the doors of GSC, we introduced you to a world where communication is something we share with systems that learn from us, respond to us, and anticipate us. Systems that do not just distribute information but participate in creating it.
And that changes the nature of the questions we must ask. It is no longer only about what we communicate, but about how we decide what is true, how we determine what is trustworthy, and who holds responsibility for those judgments.
You are graduating in what will likely be one of the most transformative moments of modern times. They say hindsight is 20-20. And indeed, as director, I wish I had the power of hindsight right now. A decade from now, people will look back at this period and ask whether we moved too quickly, or not quickly enough … whether we embraced these technologies too easily or resisted them for too long. Whether we understood what was at stake … did we do right by you the classroom? Did we do right by society?
I wish I knew. History will judge us for how we respond to this moment. I hope we are getting it right, but I don’t know.
And that is precisely what makes your education so unique. You were trained before the answers were known. You studied while the questions themselves were still being written. You are the first generation of communication scholars to be educated in a world where machines do not just carry our messages – they help create them.
As a scholar studying this space, I think a lot about the power of this moment. A few months ago, I was in a closed-door meeting with some senior leaders who are creating the generative AI systems that you are using every day. We were discussing how these technologies are being developed and what their future might look like. At one point, a top-level CEO said something that has stayed with me. He told me that today we have adopters and adapters. Adopters use the technology when needed. But adapters integrate AI into every aspect of their lives—how they work, how they think, how they make decisions. And according to him, adapters are becoming exponentially more efficient across everything they do. And then he said, quite directly: that is the future we are building toward. And I remember sitting there, listening, and thinking:
- Is this what we want?
- Is this a future we are actively choosing, or one we are simply moving into?
- What happens to those who cannot access these systems, or who choose not to integrate them so fully?
- Are we creating a new kind of divide – not access, but of how deeply we allow technology to shape our lives?
And perhaps most importantly: who is asking these questions? These are not technical questions. They are human questions.
In my own work, I spend a great deal of time thinking about what it means to design media that supports human autonomy—systems that respect people, rather than simply optimizing for engagement. Today’s systems are shaped by underlying incentives—incentives that prioritize attention, prediction, and personalization, often without considering what that means for human agency. And as long as those incentives remain unchanged, the outcomes will remain unchanged as well. What matters, then, is not only how we use technology, but how it is designed to use us.
There’s much I still need to learn as a scholar, but in my heart of hearts, I know one thing: we need to change these systems and how they use us.
As graduates of communication science, you are not standing outside these systems. You are part of the ecosystem that shapes them. You have been trained to question, to analyze, and to recognize the consequences of communication. You understand how narratives shape norms, how media shapes behavior, and how systems can both empower and harm.
And so, dear graduates, listen to me when I say: your role is not simply to participate, but to question and change these systems. To ask not only what is possible, but what is desirable. To recognize that communication is not neutral – it is powerful, and it carries consequences. Because what is at stake is not just attention, or engagement, or efficiency. It is something more fundamental. It is our ability to decide for ourselves what we believe. To pause. To reflect. To choose. Our agency is at stake.
And in a world increasingly optimized for speed, prediction, and personalization, that agency becomes more fragile, and therefore more valuable. I know that you will be encouraged to move quickly, to adapt, to optimize, to keep pace with systems that are constantly evolving. But, graduates, your responsibility is to slow things down. To create space for reflection. To think critically.
I am confident that you can do this.
Throughout your time here, you have been developing the skills required to navigate uncertainty. When you debated theory in class, you were practicing how to question assumptions. When you worked in groups, you were practicing how to communicate responsibly in diverse environments. And when you wrote your thesis, you were practicing how to make decisions without certainty, how to interpret incomplete information, and how to take responsibility for your conclusions.
If you are doubting yourselves in this moment, let me say it again: you can do this.
Why do I say this? Because you already started doing this while here. As I looked through your thesis work, I saw that you examined the role of artificial intelligence in journalism and the fragility of truth in a machine-generated information environment. You explored the boundaries between persuasion and manipulation. You analyzed algorithms, digital wellbeing, and the ways in which media can both connect and divide us. Across this work, there was a common thread. You were not just studying communication. You were studying what it means to remain human within it.
And that is what I hope you remember tonight. It’s the end of a long night, and you might forget what I have said – but if there is one thing you remember, let it be this: Being human is not a limitation. It is your greatest strength. Your ability to experience uncertainty, to wrestle with complexity, to hesitate before deciding – these are not weaknesses.
In a world where machines can simulate conversation and understanding, being human becomes a deliberate choice — a choice to care, to reflect, and to remain present.
Agency is not about having all the answers. It is about taking responsibility for your decisions, even when the path forward is not entirely clear. The systems you are entering will not always encourage reflection. They will reward speed, ease, and automatic responses. Resist taking the easy route. Remain present, think critically, and make deliberate choices, even when that requires more effort.
The future will not only be defined by what we can automate; it will be defined by what we choose to keep human. We may not yet know what this moment will mean, but we know it will be shaped by the choices you make starting today.
Remember that you are no longer students within these walls; you are now the architects of our communication future. So go out and slow things down. Use your agency to interrogate the systems you help build. Ensure your judgment keeps pace with technologies, and please always allow your humanity to guide what those technologies become.
We are proud of you, we will miss you, and we believe in you.
Congratulations, Class of 2026.
Prof. dr. Jessica Taylor Piotrowski
Director, Graduate School of Communication, University of Amsterdam
Special Note: This is a human-written piece. I have loved the em desh ( —) long before generative AI and will continue to love it.