I've been thinking a lot lately about Chicken Little. You probably remember the story: an acorn falls from a tree, hits Chicken Little on the head, and she immediately starts running around shouting, "The sky is falling! The sky is falling!" Looking back, it's easy to laugh at the overreaction.
Lately, though, I've found myself wondering if our profession has created its own version of that story.
Every conference I attend, every article I read, and nearly every conversation I have with firm leaders seems to include the same message: AI is coming. It's going to change everything. It's going to redefine the profession, reshape our workforce, automate work we've done for decades, and fundamentally alter what clients expect from us.
Unlike Chicken Little, I don't think those warnings are unfounded. AI is changing our profession. The challenge is that none of us knows exactly how quickly, how broadly, or what it will ultimately look like. And that uncertainty is creating something I hear over and over again from managing partners and firm leaders.
"We know we need to change. We just don't know what to change yet."
That may be the most honest assessment of where our profession is today.
Many firms feel like they're caught in the middle: trying to make decisions about recruiting, leadership development, career paths, and learning strategies while simultaneously wondering whether those decisions will still make sense two or three years from now. It's an uncomfortable place to be. On one hand, nobody wants to invest heavily in building capabilities that technology may eventually replace. On the other hand, nobody wants to wake up three years from now realizing they spent all that time waiting for certainty while their competitors were busy building more adaptable organizations.
In some ways, we've moved from running around yelling that the sky is falling to standing perfectly still while we wait to see if it actually does.
Neither response is particularly helpful.
Many of us are stuck in a feeling of purgatory, waiting to see if our technology providers will deliver on the ideological promises being made. Instead of trying to predict exactly what accounting will look like in 2030, I think firms would be better served asking a simpler question:
What can we do over the next 12 to 18 months that will make our people stronger regardless of how AI evolves?
- The first place I'd start is by making sure you're grounded in today before trying to build tomorrow.
- Define “Advisory”
One of the first things we do at Spiirall by LCvista is help firms establish competency and skills frameworks that clearly define what great performance looks like today. Surprisingly, many firms can't confidently answer that question. They know they need "future skills," but they haven't fully defined the capabilities they expect from their people right now. Without that foundation, conversations about AI often become little more than educated guesses. A clear skills framework creates the baseline from which future evolution becomes much easier.
We throw that word around constantly, but I'm not convinced we've all agreed on what it actually means. For some firms, advisory means expanding CAS. For others, it's about cross-selling additional services. Those are both important, but I believe the firms that ultimately thrive will think about advisory much more broadly. Advisory isn't simply another service line—it's a way of showing up differently for clients. It's becoming more curious about their business, asking better questions, understanding their challenges more deeply, and connecting them with expertise across the firm instead of limiting conversations to the engagement directly in front of you.
Once those foundations are in place, there are dozens of practical changes firms can begin making immediately.
Take recruiting, for example. Historically, we've tended to hire for technical potential first and assume the relationship skills would come later. In some cases, we've even viewed highly outgoing, naturally curious, or relationship-oriented candidates as less likely to thrive in a profession that demanded precision, focus, and technical excellence. But what if it's time to challenge that assumption?
Technical capability will always matter, and it always should. The difference is that we can teach technical skills far more effectively than we can teach genuine curiosity, emotional intelligence, or the ability to build trust with clients. As firms think about the future, it may be time to place greater value on candidates who bring both the capacity to learn the technical work and the natural consulting and relationship skills that will define the next generation of advisors.
That also means taking a fresh look at your recruiting process. Are your interview questions, candidate evaluations/assessments, and internship programs designed primarily to identify today's technical contributors, or are they also uncovering the relationship builders, critical thinkers, and naturally curious professionals who will thrive in a more advisory-focused profession? The skills we're rewarding during the hiring process ultimately shape the culture and capabilities of our firms. If we want tomorrow's workforce to look different, we may need to start by changing what we're looking for today.
The same is true for how we develop our people in the first 1-2 years. For decades, we've told ourselves that we'll teach business acumen later. We'll teach client conversations later. We'll explain how the firm makes money later. We'll let them meet with clients once they've proven themselves technically. I'm not sure "later" works anymore.
If we want future advisors, we need to start developing advisory behaviors much earlier. First-year professionals should understand how your firm creates value. They should learn what clients actually care about. They should begin seeing the purpose behind the work instead of only the work itself.
One of the biggest opportunities is helping people become comfortable asking questions they don't already know the answers to. I've watched partners avoid conversations because they worry they won't have every answer if the discussion goes somewhere unexpected. Somewhere along the way, many of us started believing our credibility comes from always knowing the answer. I think the opposite is becoming true.
The best advisors aren't necessarily the people with all the answers. They're the people who ask the best questions, uncover opportunities others don't see, and connect clients with the right expertise. Sometimes the greatest value we provide isn't solving the problem ourselves—it's recognizing the problem exists and bringing together the right people to solve it.
Finally, I'd encourage every client manager to know their clients as well as they know their engagements. Could they walk into a room tomorrow and confidently describe that client's biggest strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats? Do they understand the client's business strategy well enough to recognize opportunities beyond the work they're currently performing? If not, that may be one of the most valuable development opportunities available today.
None of these ideas require us to know exactly what AI will look like in five years. They simply require us to begin building more curious, commercially minded, adaptable professionals today.
Maybe that's the real lesson from Chicken Little. The answer is purposeful action. Not panic or paralysis.
We don't need to know exactly when—or even how—the sky might change. We simply need to make sure we're building firms and developing people who are ready when it does.
If these are the same conversations happening inside your firm, I'd love to hear what you're seeing. At LCvista, we're working with firms every day to help them build practical talent strategies that prepare their people for what's next. Even when "what's next" is still unfolding.
