The Age of Application – The Power of "How" Over "What You Know"

At the recent APEC CEO Summit, Jensen Huang, the CEO of NVIDIA, captured global attention — not just for his technological vision but for his humanity.

During his now-famous “chicken meeting” with Korea’s top conglomerate leaders, Huang’s humility and humor stood out.

The meeting took place at a branch of Kkanbu Chicken, a casual fried-chicken chain far from the polished marble of corporate boardrooms. Instead of stiff suits and prepared speeches, the evening felt relaxed, almost playful. After the meal, Huang walked outside and began handing out baskets of fried chicken and cheese sticks to the surprised crowd waiting in the street — smiling, signing autographs, and taking selfies. For a brief moment, global tech diplomacy turned into a neighborhood block party.

That warmth was no accident. Huang has long held a soft spot for Korea. His relationship with the country stretches back to the late 1990s, when PC Bangs — internet cafés filled with gamers playing StarCraft and Diablo — became cultural icons. Those smoky, neon-lit cafés weren’t just playgrounds for teenagers; they were incubators for Korea’s digital revolution. The booming appetite for high-performance graphics cards helped catapult NVIDIA into one of the most recognizable names in the world of computing.

It’s no wonder that when Huang speaks about Korea, it’s with the familiarity of someone who has witnessed its evolution firsthand — from arcade culture to AI innovation.

When the AI Guru Talked About Plumbers

Recently, Huang made another viral splash — not by unveiling a new chip, but by naming the most promising careers of the future.

Many expected him to praise AI engineers, data scientists, or roboticists.

Instead, he grinned and said, “Plumbers and electricians will be the high-paying jobs of the future.”

At first, it sounded like a joke. But behind the humor was a profound observation. In an age when AI can write poetry and design buildings, it’s the skilled trades — the hands-on problem-solvers — that remain irreplaceable. Plumbing and electrical work require judgment, dexterity, and accountability: the precise blend of cognition and craft that no algorithm can emulate.

Across the U.S., these trades already offer some of the most stable and well-paid careers, precisely because they rely on human adaptability. Even South Park once joked that the world’s richest people might end up being handymen — a punchline that, in hindsight, sounds like foresight.

The Message Beneath the Humor

Of course, Huang wasn’t urging young people to skip college and grab a wrench. His message ran deeper — aimed squarely at educators and parents. We must stop valuing knowledge merely for its quantity, and start valuing the quality of its use.

The Industrial Revolution took decades to reshape society. The AI revolution is doing it daily. Each algorithm learns from the last, accelerating progress in compounding cycles. What futurists once promised for “the next generation” is happening right now.

So how do we prepare the next generation for a world changing at machine speed? The answer might be deceptively simple: teach them to use, not merely to know.

From Players to Pioneers

In the 1980s, Japan was the unquestioned technological superpower. Korea lagged behind — until it didn’t. One witty observer once summed it up this way:

“Koreans played games on computers; the Japanese played on consoles.”

The line gets a laugh, but it’s also insight in disguise. By playing on computers — open, modifiable systems — Korean youth grew up tinkering, customizing, and experimenting. They weren’t just users; they were early digital natives, instinctively comfortable adapting tools to their needs.

That mindset built the foundation for Korea’s digital leap. And the same logic applies to AI: students shouldn’t just study artificial intelligence — they should play with it.

In the 1990s, games like StarCraft and Diablo weren’t just pastimes; they were informal academies of strategic thinking, pattern recognition, and collaboration. Those who learned by playing developed digital literacy before it became a curriculum. Today’s generation can do the same with AI — exploring, remixing, and creating — transforming use into understanding.

Rediscovering the Joy of Learning

Play, after all, is not the opposite of learning; it is learning in its most natural form.

In mammals, play builds survival skills. In humans, it builds imagination. Yet under constant pressure for grades and credentials, playtime has nearly vanished. Children are trained to seek the “right answer,” but not to craft the right question.

In an AI-driven world where answers are instant and infinite, curiosity becomes the rarest and most valuable human trait. Knowing how to ask — and how to apply — will matter far more than memorizing what’s already known.

The Art of Using Tools

Every day, our feeds fill with AI-generated paintings, songs, and videos — some dazzling, some uncanny. Beneath them, a few comments say it best:

“Even with AI, it still takes patience, imagination, and taste.”

“Using a tool everyone can use to make something no one else can — that’s art.”

Those words capture the essence of the Age of Application. The question is no longer whether AI can replace creativity, but how creatively humans will use AI.

The Brain Education Perspective

From the lens of Brain Education, creativity is not just mental agility — it’s the harmony of the cognitive, emotional, and physical self. True creativity happens when intellect aligns with emotion, body, and purpose. The brain learns best in joy; the mind thinks best when it feels alive.

Play, curiosity, and experimentation are not luxuries — they are the neurological engines of growth. The ability to play well is, in fact, the foundation of learning deeply.

The New Educational Paradigm

We are no longer living in the Age of Expertise. We’ve entered the Age of Application — an era where success depends less on what you know and more on how you use what you know.

AI isn’t just automating work; it’s amplifying human potential. Those who meet it with curiosity rather than fear will define the next frontier.

For parents and educators, this shift demands a new kind of teaching. The goal is not to fill children with data, but to guide them to explore, to test, and to create.

We cannot force creativity — but we can nurture the conditions for it: time, tools, and trust.

In the end, the greatest gift we can give the next generation is freedom — the freedom to play, to explore, and to make something new.

That freedom — the courage to use — will keep humanity ahead of its own machines.