The framing lands but misses where the real loss is. It's not "my craft mattered" — it's legibility. When AI writes the code, someone still has to know when Claude is confidently wrong. The assumptions baked into a hallucinated architecture don't announce themselves. Taste and judgment don't disappear; they move upstream. The artisan who survives isn't the one who can hand-cut dovetails faster than a machine. It's the one who can look at what the machine produced and say "this is structurally unsound and here's why." That requires having internalized the thing the machine is imitating. "Now you're free" is true, but it's also a new kind of work — harder to credential, harder to legibly demonstrate, and easy to skip because the output looks fine until it catastrophically isn't.