Utah Stories

Utah Tech’s Reset: The Hidden Forces Behind Layoffs and the Rise of AI

Utah’s tech sector is undergoing a major reset. While many assumed the recent wave of layoffs was caused by artificial intelligence, the real driver was an economic crunch that hit startups when funding dried up. AI is now transforming the industry in a different way—rewarding workers who adopt it and challenging long-held assumptions about authenticity…

|

Alessandro Cozzi, AI career development expert, discussing how artificial intelligence is reshaping Utah’s tech workforce.

Utah’s technology sector has weathered one of its most turbulent periods in recent memory. Thousands of workers across fintech, software, and hardware companies have been laid off, leaving families and entire communities grappling with the sudden chaos of a shrinking job market. While many observers have pinned the cause on artificial intelligence, the story is more complicated. AI is reshaping the future—but the initial shock came from somewhere else.

To understand this shift, it helps to look closely at the explanations offered by Alessandro Cozzi, an expert in AI-driven workforce development and founder of a career-growth platform designed to help professionals navigate exactly this kind of job market. His insights shed light on three major forces driving Utah’s current transition: the economic roots of the layoffs, the new premium placed on workers who embrace AI tools, and the emerging ethical dilemmas surrounding AI-generated work.

Layoffs Hit Utah Tech Because of Economics, Not Because AI Took Over

Many Utahns have assumed that recent job cuts at companies like Pluralsight, Texas Instruments, Microsoft, Workday, and others were triggered by AI automation. The truth, as Alessandro explains, is rooted in macroeconomic pressure, not machine learning.

In the years after COVID, especially throughout 2021 and 2022, a large share of Utah’s tech sector was still in the startup phase, meaning these companies were “burning cash” and relying heavily on an environment where capital was cheap and abundant. When interest rates surged, that oxygen supply disappeared.

As Alessandro describes it: “They couldn’t have access to new funding, which was vital for them to actually grow. The only thing they could do in order to preserve cash was cutting jobs.”

Layoffs became a survival strategy rather than a choice.

The larger tech giants faced a different problem. During the lockdown era, companies like Microsoft saw “massive profits” as the world relied on laptops for work, school, entertainment, and communication. They scaled up aggressively, hiring hundreds or thousands of people at a time. But when daily life normalized, those inflated profit levels evaporated. Companies had to decide whether the boom was permanent. It wasn’t.

The result was a correction, still painful, but predictable.

AI was not the spark that ignited Utah’s tech layoffs. Instead, the layoffs were an economic aftershock of the pandemic and the sudden tightening of financial markets. AI entered later, not as the cause of job loss but as a new strategic priority.

Companies began pouring resources into AI talent, AI infrastructure, and efficiency models—using AI to avoid rebuilding the bloated staffing patterns of the pandemic years.

This distinction matters. It means Utah’s workforce is not being “replaced” by AI. Rather, AI is the new playing field, and workers who master it position themselves for future stability.

AI Won’t Replace Workers but Workers Who Use AI Will Replace Those Who Don’t

If the first major idea explains the past, the second explains the future. Alessandro is unequivocal: AI is not here to eliminate the careers of engineers, administrators, analysts, or creatives. It is here to amplify them.

He argues that AI is best understood as a productivity multiplier, saying: “It can give you superpowers. It can help you speed up everything you’re doing.”

Tasks that once took hours can now be completed in minutes, freeing people to focus on higher-level decisions, strategy, and innovation. Workers who embrace AI tools rather than resist them will simply be able to do more, faster, and better.

Alessandro frames the real threat clearly: “AI is not going to take your job. But if you’re not using it, someone else who is using it will take your job for sure.”

This mirrors a shift that has played out across industries many times before. When spreadsheets became standard, accountants who refused to use them were left behind. When computers went mainstream, professionals who clung to typewriters faded from the workforce.

AI is the next leap. The host underscores this reality with a business owner’s perspective: if a competitor uses AI and he doesn’t, his company loses its competitive advantage. The technology allows every employee to operate “like the power of five,” as he puts it.

Yet the conversation also surfaces a psychological concern: what happens when people rely on AI to think for them?

Richard raises that worry, noting how easy it is to ask AI deep questions and receive confident-sounding answers. He wonders whether this erodes critical thinking. Alessandro responds by grounding the issue: current AI systems are built on the past—they can’t imagine the future the way humans do. Used well, they don’t replace thinking; they expand the room for it by eliminating the drudgery that consumes so much time.

Workers who embrace AI as a tool—not a crutch—gain the freedom to push their creativity and analytical abilities further. In a market where adaptability is essential, that mindset becomes a competitive advantage.

AI Brings New Ethical Dilemmas from Deepfakes to Job Applications to Byline Credit

The third major idea emerging from Alessandro’s insights is the ethical frontier forming around AI: authenticity, attribution, and trust. The transcript reveals three areas where these issues are already shaping Utah’s professional landscape.

Deepfakes are blurring the line between real and fake

One of the most striking examples discussed was a job applicant who used an AI-generated replica of himself to complete an interview. The interviewer only realized something was wrong when he asked the candidate to place his hand near his face. The deepfake avatar couldn’t comply.

Alessandro acknowledges the seriousness of this trend: “How can we know if something is real or if something is fake?”

But he also predicts that entirely new companies will emerge to verify identity and detect manipulated content—just as cybersecurity didn’t exist until it had to.

Job seekers and employers are caught in a new “cat and mouse” dynamic

Applicants use AI to tailor their résumés to dozens of positions. Employers use filters to detect generic or automated submissions. Alessandro rejects the approach of stuffing keywords into applications. His platform instead uses a person’s actual history to craft genuine narratives that match specific job requirements.

It highlights a truth that persists even in an AI world: authenticity still wins.

AI-generated creative work challenges traditional ideas of authorship

The ethical question that hits closest to home involves writing and illustration. If a journalist conducts the interview, transcribes the conversation, and has a long archive of their own work—and then uses AI to generate the first full draft of an article in their voice—is it still their work?

Alessandro’s answer is direct: “Yes. 100 percent it’s yours.”

His logic is that the journalist provides the reporting, the voice, the style, and the input. AI rearranges the material—much like a designer uses Photoshop or a chef uses a mixer.

Yet not everyone agrees. The transcript mentions an illustrator who is stepping away from his career because AI tools are reshaping demand for traditional artwork. Alessandro’s perspective is that resisting the shift is more dangerous than embracing it. New tools do not erase craft—they expand it.

As he puts it, the choice is whether to fight change or “embrace it and go with it.”

Navigating Utah’s AI Era

Taken together, these ideas form a roadmap for Utah’s tech workforce at a pivotal moment:

  • The layoffs were caused by economic pressures, not AI automation.
  • The future belongs to workers who use AI to amplify their abilities.
  • The ethical questions—authorship, authenticity, and trust—will define the next decade.

Utah’s tech ecosystem has always evolved quickly, but the arrival of AI accelerates everything. The professionals who adapt, who see AI not as a threat but as a tool will shape what comes next.

,


Join our newsletter.
Stay informed.


  • Left in a Box as a Baby: Trauma, Alcoholism, and Addiction

    A man abandoned as a baby builds a structured life in law enforcement, but unresolved trauma and alcoholism slowly begin to unravel it. His story raises a harder question about how change actually happens.


  • The $7 Million Recruit: How NIL Changed College Athletics Forever

    In 2012, Jabari Parker, a top high school prospect and member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, was facing his biggest decision to that point in his life: where to play college basketball. 

    Fans of BYU athletics hoped and perhaps prayed that Parker would pick the school owned by the church he was raised in. BYU was listed as one of his final choices. But he ultimately chose to spend his college years at Duke before attempting a career in the NBA. BYU fans were disappointed, but no one was truly surprised. Duke over BYU was the best choice for a young prospect in 2012. 

    A.J. Dybantsa.

    What changed between 2012 and 2024 when A.J. Dybantsa, the number one high school prospect, chose BYU over every other school? The answer is roughly $7 million dollars. That is what Dybantsa is reportedly making to play basketball at BYU. 

    The deal was supported by Utah Jazz owner Ryan Smith, who met multiple times with the Dybantsa family in multiple attempts to bring the young player to Provo. 

    According to Smith, he had no financial role in bringing Dybantsa to BYU, but the influence of Utah’s most famous billionaire acting as a “booster” or unofficial recruiter certainly swayed the decision.

    Prior to 2021, boosters acting as recruiters was taboo to the NCAA governing body. It was called improper recruiting. But in 2021, California began the modern era of NIL, or the ability of a college athlete to benefit from their name, image, or likeness, when they passed the “Fair Pay to Play Act.” 

    This new law gave college athletes in California the ability to benefit from their NIL, something that was banned in the rest of the country to that point. The NCAA saw that this law would create an unfair advantage for California schools that could now give young athletes the chance to make money off their talent and image while still in college. 

    The NCAA knew they needed to do something quickly, so they rushed through a policy that opened up NIL to all college athletes in the country, and it has been expanding and evolving over the last four years. 

    Grant Duff, who has coached at the University of Utah, Weber State University, and is now the defensive coordinator for Idaho State University, says, “The best part of NIL is that athletes have an opportunity to make good money. The downside comes with the free-for-all that money causes.”

    Dybantsa confers with BYU Head coach, Kevin Young.

    One of the biggest current examples of what a school can do when the boosters are willing to pay for success is Texas Tech University. From 2020-2024, Texas Tech had 34 wins, which works out to 6.8 wins per year with a low of 4 wins and high of 8. Then Texas Tech’s boosters got involved, led by Cody Campbell, an oil industry businessman and Chairman of the Texas Tech board. The football program was given 28 million dollars for NIL with a simple message attached to the large pile of money: Win. And win now. And win they did. 

    By signing NIL deals with athletes in the transfer portal, Texas Tech went from a middle-of-the-pack school in their conference to one of the top 12 teams in the country. They didn’t just win games in 2025, they made many of their opponents look like they didn’t belong on the same field, including the University of Utah and BYU twice. That is what money can buy.

    Continue reading and support independent Utah journalism with a purchase of Utah Stories (Digital + Print) or 3 month free trial (Digital).


  • Cottonwood Heights Corruption Allegations: A Case That Never Reached a Courtroom

    A year ago, we here at Utah Stories recorded a podcast episode that we never published. We were revisiting corruption allegations from ten years ago. We decided not to publish the video, so it sat there on YouTube for nearly 12 months.

    Then somehow the video was published. How? We are not sure, but once it got out there, the comments came pouring in.

    Dozens of viewers, then hundreds, supported the video with their comments on our examination of allegations of police misconduct in Cottonwood Heights. The video recounts how the Police Department was reported by business owners as focusing enforcement on customers of the former Canyon Inn bar. These allegations did not result in a publicly documented, full investigation by Utah’s Justice Department nor the FBI (at least to our knowledge). So why rehash the past?

    We believe the story of The Canyon Inn (and other area business owners) vs. CHPD and Cottonwood Heights Mayor Kelvin Cullimore raises questions about what can happen when allegations surface and do not move forward through a formal legal process with state or federal oversight.

    In 2012, Cottonwood Heights business owners at the mouth of the canyons began publicly objecting to police activity whereby up to seven cruisers were pulling over 711 and Canyon Inn bar customers on their busiest evenings.

    According to those accounts, drivers leaving the bar were frequently pulled over by police and were given DUI tickets, sometimes even after passing a sobriety examination. The volume and concentration of those stops led residents and business owners to complain about the “heavy-handed treatment” of CHPD toward motorists, especially in and around the Canyon Inn and neighboring 711, and eventually the Porcupine Pub.

    Customers responded in predictable ways. Some chose not to return and avoid the area. Others went to different establishments. Over time, the owner of the Canyon Inn, Jim Stojack, stated that his revenue declined by 70% and that he believed police activity near his business was the main contributing factor.

    Utah Stories reported on these concerns by conducting interviews; gathering video documentation provided by those involved; and making public records requests. Through our GRAMA requests, we reviewed DUI citations issued by the Cottonwood Heights Police Department and examined how those cases were resolved in Holladay Justice Court. During that period, we observed a higher number based on our review of DUI cases dismissed in court due to lack of evidence compared to other jurisdictions. One DUI attorney, Tyler Ayers, went on record saying that CHPD was issuing a high volume of DUI citations that were later dismissed.

    That observation raised questions about how cases were being documented and prosecuted. It did not, on its own, establish intent or misconduct, but it became part of a broader set of concerns raised by multiple sources.

    Continue reading and support independent Utah journalism with a purchase of Utah Stories (Digital + Print) or 3 month free trial (Digital).


  • From LDS Mission to Heroin Addiction: A Utah Man’s Descent and Recovery

    More than 100,000 Americans died from drug overdoses in a single year. That number is often repeated, rarely absorbed, and almost never understood in a way that forces real reflection. Because addiction doesn’t usually look like chaos at the beginning.