What Cows Can Teach Us About the Future of AI
If you had asked me, not all that long ago, where artificial intelligence would first make itself quietly indispensable, I doubt I would have wandered anywhere near a cattle ranch. I would have said finance, of course. Healthcare, certainly. Maybe transportation if I was feeling ambitious. But cows—guided by GPS-enabled collars, responding to audio cues, grazing within invisible boundaries drawn on a tablet—that was not on my bingo card.
And yet, it exists. Ranchers today can manage livestock with what’s often called a “virtual fence,” using AI-powered collars that gently steer cattle without a single physical barrier. The system learns, adapts, and improves over time. The cows stay where they’re supposed to, the land is used more efficiently, and labor shifts from manual work to oversight. Somewhere along the way, a practice that has changed very little over generations picks up a layer of modern intelligence. It’s a little unexpected, and that’s precisely the point.
The story of Peter Theils investment is such business is fascinating. However, what this blog is really about is imagination, and how quickly it expands once a new tool becomes available. We tend to think about technological progress in straight lines: a breakthrough occurs, it gets adopted, and then it disrupts something obvious. In reality, progress behaves more like a branching tree. A core capability emerges, and then people in entirely different fields begin applying it in ways that feel, at first glance, unrelated to the original intent.
Someone, somewhere, looked at a herd of cattle and thought there might be a better way to guide them than fences and physical presence. That’s not just efficiency thinking. That’s creative problem solving applied to an old-world task. It’s also a reminder that many of the most interesting applications of AI won’t come from the technology itself, but from the people who choose to apply it in places others hadn’t considered.
We’ve seen versions of this before, just in less colorful settings. The early internet wasn’t built with ride-sharing or food delivery in mind, yet both became natural extensions once connectivity reached a certain point. Smartphones didn’t begin as tools for managing entire businesses from your pocket, but that’s exactly what many of them became. Each wave of innovation starts with a few clear use cases, and then it broadens as people experiment, adapt, and occasionally stumble into something useful.
The cow collar is simply a more vivid illustration of that process. What makes it especially interesting is how it reshapes work rather than simply eliminating it. The rancher’s role doesn’t disappear; it evolves. Time once spent repairing fences or physically moving herds can shift toward monitoring systems, analyzing grazing patterns, and making more informed decisions about land use. The work becomes less about physical repetition and more about judgment and oversight.
Around that shift, an entire ecosystem begins to form. Engineers design hardware that can withstand weather and terrain. Software developers build mapping systems that account for geography and animal behavior. Data analysts interpret patterns to improve outcomes over time. Field specialists help integrate these tools into everyday use. None of these roles replace the rancher; they build around a new way of doing the same fundamental job.
This is where the broader conversation around artificial intelligence often misses some nuance. Much of the focus lands on what might be lost—jobs displaced, tasks automated, industries reshaped. Those concerns are real and worth acknowledging. But they tend to overshadow the quieter, more gradual process of creation that happens alongside disruption.
New tools don’t just make old tasks faster; they invite entirely new approaches. They make previously impractical ideas feasible. And when that happens, new roles follow. Not always immediately, and not always in the same places, but consistently over time.
From an investment perspective, this matters. It’s easy to focus on the large, visible companies building AI infrastructure, and they are certainly important. But the more subtle and often more durable opportunities tend to emerge in the application layer—the businesses taking a general capability and applying it in specific, practical ways. Agriculture is one example. Logistics, healthcare, manufacturing, and services will all have their own versions of this story, each shaped by people asking, “What could this do here?”
Of course, none of this suggests the transition will be perfectly smooth. Some roles will diminish. Certain skill sets will become less relevant. That has been true in every period of technological change, and it will be true again. Adjustments can be uneven, and they rarely feel comfortable in real time.
But history offers a useful perspective. As tools improve, human effort will naturally shift, as economic motivations change. We move toward higher-value activities, we specialize in new ways, and we find different problems worth solving. The nature of work evolves, but the underlying drive to create and improve remains intact.
Which brings us back, somewhat improbably, to those cows. Not because they represent the pinnacle of artificial intelligence, but because they capture something more enduring. Once a technology becomes accessible, its ultimate uses are not defined by its creators alone. They are shaped by the collective imagination of the people who encounter it. If that imagination can turn a pasture into a proving ground for AI, it’s a fair assumption that we are still only beginning to see where this goes.
If someone had told me a few years ago that one day I’d be referencing AI-powered cow collars in an investment conversation, I might have suggested they spend less time in the sun. Fortunately, markets—and technology—have a way of humbling all of us.
If nothing else, it’s a good reminder that the future rarely looks the way we expect. Which is exactly why it pays to have a thoughtful plan in place. If you’d like to talk about how these changes fit into your portfolio, feel free to call me at 661-302-4531 or email me at Jeremiah.Bauman@LPL.com