The world is changing faster than anyone expected — and Haiti cannot afford to remain a spectator.

Editorial | The Haitian Pulse | October 2025

The world is entering a new era — one that will redefine the way money moves, how people earn a living, and which nations will rise or collapse in the process. The headlines may sound distant, but make no mistake: this revolution will reach every home that depends on a paycheck, a money transfer, or a job that can be done by a machine.

In the United States, leaked reports from Amazon — the world’s largest employer in the private sector — have revealed plans to automate nearly 600,000 jobs over the next decade using artificial intelligence and robotics. While the company denies specific figures, Amazon executives have openly confirmed that their long-term goal is to shrink their workforce as machines become more efficient. That means hundreds of thousands of warehouse workers, delivery drivers, and administrative employees — many of them immigrants, including Haitians — are living on borrowed time. The world’s biggest company is sending a message: the age of human labor is ending.

If Amazon takes this path, the rest will follow. Walmart, FedEx, UPS, Target, and the major financial institutions already testing AI for logistics, customer service, and accounting will inevitably do the same. When they replace even a fraction of their workforce with machines, the effects will ripple through every sector — from transportation to retail to finance. And for Haitians in the diaspora, many of whom depend on these jobs for survival, this is not just a statistic — it’s a threat to existence. Every dollar sent to Haiti each month, every Western Union transfer that keeps a family fed, every rent payment made possible by a warehouse shift — all of it depends on jobs that are quietly being replaced by algorithms.

For decades, Haiti has survived not by productivity, but by dependence — dependence on remittances, foreign aid, and the generosity of the diaspora. Today, an estimated 35% of Haiti’s GDP comes from money sent by Haitians abroad. Millions at home have built their lives around this external lifeline. When rent is due, when school fees are late, when illness strikes, they turn not to their government, but to a relative working overseas. But what happens when that relative’s job no longer exists? What happens when automation, artificial intelligence, and digital restructuring eliminate the very positions that sustain those monthly transfers? That day is no longer hypothetical. It is already forming like a storm cloud over the global economy — silent, vast, and unstoppable.

There was once a time when people believed loyalty to a company meant security — when showing up on time, working hard, and keeping one’s head down guaranteed a steady paycheck and a pension. That time is gone. Corporations no longer reward loyalty; they reward efficiency. And machines, unlike humans, do not need rest, food, healthcare, or vacation days. They do not complain, unionize, or demand better working conditions. The global elite has discovered the perfect employee: artificial intelligence. And in that discovery, millions of real human beings — including thousands of hardworking Haitian men and women — will soon find themselves discarded.

The BRICS alliance — now representing nearly half the world’s population — has accelerated its mission to reduce dependence on the U.S. dollar. New payment systems, gold-backed trading models, and blockchain technologies are emerging at a speed unseen in modern history. As the global financial map is redrawn, small and unprepared nations like Haiti will be left outside the circle. Add to this the rise of automation in the West, and the picture becomes devastating: Haitians abroad losing income, Haitians at home losing support, and a government in Port-au-Prince with neither plan nor capacity to fill the gap. The question becomes urgent: What happens when the diaspora’s wallet runs dry?

Most people prefer not to talk about this because it’s uncomfortable. But truth does not wait for comfort. The future will belong to those who own systems, leverage technology, and understand money. The rest will depend on luck and handouts. Governments will promise “retraining programs.” Corporations will speak of “new opportunities.” But these words are smokescreens. When AI can write reports, analyze data, deliver packages, and make hiring decisions, what place is left for the ordinary worker? The answer is simple and brutal: you either evolve or become obsolete.

Haiti cannot afford to sleep through another revolution. We missed the industrial revolution. We missed the digital revolution. And now, as the AI revolution begins, we are once again unprepared. This time, the price will be catastrophic — because our entire survival model depends on the labor of others. The Haitian government has no contingency plan. The private sector has no innovation policy. The universities produce graduates who cannot compete in a digital economy. And the churches, once moral beacons, now preach prosperity without productivity. If the diaspora’s income collapses, Haiti will face its most severe economic and social crisis since 1915.

To the Haitians abroad: understand this clearly — the security you think you have is an illusion. Your paycheck is not a guarantee; it’s a privilege. Your remittance is not eternal; it’s conditional on your employer’s need for you. The same way factories once replaced men with machines, now offices, warehouses, and delivery routes will replace you with lines of code. The Haitian diaspora must start thinking beyond jobs and begin building ownership — of businesses, technologies, and investment systems that cannot be automated away. The time to act is now.

To those living in Haiti who depend on money from abroad — understand this: the era of easy help is ending. Your cousin in Florida may not always have overtime. Your sister in New Jersey may not always have a paycheck. Your brother in Montreal may soon find his company downsized because of automation. And when that happens, who will feed you then? It is time to take ownership of your own survival. Learn a trade. Start a small business. Organize your community. Grow your own food. Build local cooperatives. Dependency is not love — it is paralysis. And paralysis is death in a changing world.

In Haiti, we often talk about the dangers of gangs and corruption. But the next invasion won’t come from men with guns — it will come from machines with algorithms. The same global companies that profit from Haitian labor abroad will one day operate in Haiti itself. Automation will not stop at the border. And when that day arrives, our untrained population — with limited digital literacy — will be powerless. Without preparation, Haiti will not only lose its income streams but also its relevance.

This is no longer about politics. It’s about survival. Haiti must begin a campaign of economic self-defense — not against foreign nations, but against ignorance, dependency, and delay. We need to teach digital literacy in schools, introduce coding in high schools, and invest in agricultural and local manufacturing cooperatives that can operate independently of imports. We must build systems of community finance — where Haitians fund Haitians — instead of waiting for loans that never come. The diaspora can play a leading role by investing directly in local innovation rather than sending temporary aid.

For decades, Haitians have survived off the sweat of others. But the world that once needed our labor is evolving. In this new economy, wealth will not flow to those who work hardest — it will flow to those who think smartest. Those who own data, platforms, and algorithms will rule the next century. The rest will beg for relevance. And if we do nothing, Haiti will once again find itself standing on the sidelines, watching history pass by — proud of a glorious past but powerless in the present.

The Haitian diaspora must shift from being consumers to creators. They must invest not just in survival but in systems that generate wealth. From trucking to logistics to retail, the industries Haitians have traditionally depended on are now under threat. The same companies that gave them employment will soon cut them loose. Amazon’s automation is not just a business strategy — it is a global signal. It says: “The future belongs to those who control machines, not those who serve them.”

For a country that already produces little and imports almost everything, losing its diaspora’s support could collapse entire sectors overnight — from real estate to education to healthcare. The government won’t be ready. The banks won’t be ready. And the people, as usual, will pay the price. But we can still change course — if we act now.

The Haitian Pulse has said it before, and we will say it again: we are not victims of fate — we are victims of our failure to prepare. The world is shifting from physical to digital, from labor to automation, from dependence to decentralization. We cannot afford to wait for rescue. The time has come to build our own. If Haiti wants to survive, it must stop chasing handouts and start creating capacity. If the Haitian people want to honor Dessalines, they must embody his spirit of independence — not in speeches, but in systems.

To every Haitian — at home or abroad — this is not a prophecy of fear; it is a call to preparation. The machines are coming. The economy is changing. The world is reorganizing itself without waiting for you. You can either participate or perish. Haiti’s strength has always been its people. But that strength must now evolve from muscle to mind. The future will not pity the unprepared — and history will not repeat itself out of nostalgia.

The Haitian Pulse stands by its mission: to awaken a sleeping people before the tide becomes irreversible. The warning has been given. The choice is yours. Will you adapt and rise — or wait and beg when the world no longer needs you? Leave your thoughts below and join the conversation. The time to act is now.