At first I reassured her that language majors, especially English, remain in high demand as evidenced by the fact that admission scores are consistently high. Some universities even require a perfect 30 out of 30 along with additional criteria.

According to the Ministry of Education and Training, Vietnam will need some 22,000 more English teachers by 2030 to make English a second language in the education system.

But the global picture looks different.

More than 100 universities in China have recently reduced or halted enrollment in foreign language programs and some arts and humanities fields, as AI begins to replace translation and parts of basic creative work.

In the U.K., the University of Leicester, known for its language programs, has announced it will pull the plug on modern language courses starting in 2026-27.

In the United States and across Europe, humanities departments, from literature and history to philosophy, are shrinking, merging or disappearing at universities.

These shifts show that fields once seen as stable are now under pressure.

As AI improves at handling language tasks, translation, basic content creation, teaching, and even filmmaking, the traditional advantages of humanities degrees are dissipating.

In that context, the concern of the mother is well grounded. From that concern comes a familiar line of thinking: If humanities are becoming uncertain, then moving to STEM, especially data and AI, may be safer. In other words, STEM leads to jobs, while humanities depend on luck.

But AI is already shaking what used to feel secure. Basic skills such as simple coding, repetitive data processing, and machine translation, once entry advantages for technical workers, are being automated quickly. At the same time work often seen as "human," such as writing, translation and media, is no longer fully protected either.

AI does not intrinsically favor either STEM or humanities; it tends to replace repetitive, rule-based tasks in both.

The core of STEM, such as machine learning research, data infrastructure, cybersecurity, and robotics, still requires deep expertise and is less likely to be fully replaced in the next five to 10 years.

High school students tour a workshop at the Ho Chi Minh City University of Technology and Engineering in January 2024. Photo courtesy of the school

In Vietnam, the mismatch between education and labor demand existed long before AI. Many students choose majors based on high scores or the belief that they lead to easy employment, then change direction a few years later. The rate of working outside one's field remains high, even in information technology, once seen as highly competitive. Businesses lack skilled workers, yet many graduates still struggle to find suitable jobs.

According to the World Economic Forum's Future of Jobs 2025 report, technology trends will eliminate about 92 million jobs by 2030 and create 170 million new ones, for a net gain of around 78 million jobs.

More important than the numbers is the nature of these roles: They require hybrid skills, not purely STEM and not purely humanities, but a mix of technical understanding and insight into people.

That is why the debate between "STEM or humanities" may no longer fit. Real value lies at the intersection.

I met two young people who graduated with language degrees but moved into roles such as prompt engineer and AI content strategist. They do not just write effective prompts. They apply deep knowledge of language, culture and human behavior to create content suited to Vietnamese users.

People like them often have better opportunities and incomes than those who focus only on technical skills or only on writing.

When parents ask, "So what should we choose?" the most honest answer is this: No field guarantees a stable path the way it once did. What matters more than the name of the major, even if it sounds familiar or reassuring, is the ability to adapt, to keep learning, and to work with AI as a powerful tool rather than be replaced by it.

A strong learning environment does not rest only on the curriculum or the final degree; it depends on a hybrid model, where specialized knowledge connects closely with real-world practice and other fields.

In Vietnam, some programs have changed their names, for example from "translation and interpretation" to "professional communication," or added terms like "AI" and "digital" to keep up with trends.

But the real issue is not the label. It is what changes inside, how subjects are taught and what students actually learn.

Ideally, institutions will move in this direction by encouraging students to cross disciplines. Students should join interdisciplinary projects, such as English majors working with IT students to build educational chatbots or optimize AI prompts. They should experiment, accept failure, join clubs and activities, and take internships early.

In practice, many universities are not abandoning humanities but are shifting toward models such as digital humanities, where technology and humanistic knowledge support each other rather than compete.

Looking more broadly, the labor market is becoming clear about what it wants: People who can move between these two worlds. That may be someone who can code and also communicate in English with nuance and depth, or someone trained in language who knows how to use AI to extend what technology cannot yet do well.

In other words, value lies in people who understand technology at a meaningful level and also understand people, how they think, feel and respond. They can ask the right questions, express ideas clearly and adjust their work to fit different contexts.

Every field loses its edge if learners rely only on a degree. The gap between education and work will always exist. In the age of AI, the real question is not what you study, but how quickly you can renew your skills, add new ones, and learn again.