When the Tools Get Smarter, Leadership Must Get Wiser, Understanding Agentic Ai

Lately, I’ve been getting many questions about agentic Augmented Intelligence.

What is it, really? How is it different from the AI tools we already see every day? Is this something small businesses, and funeral homes in particular, should actually be paying attention to?

Those questions are thoughtful. They’re also telling.

They signal that leaders aren’t just curious about technology; they’re trying to understand its implications. Not just what it can do, but what it might change. How it shows up in real work, real moments, and genuine relationships.

So rather than answer those questions with technical explanations or buzzwords, my hope is simpler. In the following reflections, I want to slow things down and address a few of those questions in plain language, not from a place of hype or fear, but from lived experience, leadership judgment, and deep respect for the profession.

Because this conversation isn’t really about technology. It’s about how we lead when the tools around us become more capable.

There’s a moment every funeral director recognizes.

It’s the pause before you speak. The breath you take before you answer a family’s question.The quiet awareness that whatever comes next carries weight.

That moment is why this conversation about agentic Augmented Intelligence matters.

As our tools become more capable, our leadership must be more intentional.

I’ve observed technology’s entry into funeral service in waves. Some of it is helpful. Some of it is distracting. Some are introduced with enthusiasm but without reflection. Over time, I’ve learned this: tools don’t change a profession; people do. The way they choose to use them makes the difference.

To understand the difference between standard AI and agentic Augmented Intelligence, it helps to picture a day we’ve all lived.

It’s late afternoon at the funeral home. The service has just ended. The family lingered longer than expected, which they needed. You gave them that time. Now the day feels compressed. Phones are ringing. Paperwork still isn’t finished. Tomorrow’s service is already pressing in.

Standard AI is like having someone hand you a checklist.

It’s helpful. It drafts a follow-up email. It pulls a form you’ll need. It reminds you what hasn’t been done yet. But it waits. It doesn’t move unless you tell it exactly what to do next. If something changes, it stops and looks to you for direction.

You’re still carrying the weight. Just a little more organized.

Agentic Augmented Intelligence shows up differently.

It’s like having someone by your side who understands the goal, not just the task. You don’t give it instructions line by line. You say, “Make sure the Johnson family is taken care of, and prepare us for tomorrow.”

It notices the service ran long. It adjusts timelines. It schedules follow-up messages for the next day instead of that evening. It prepares an obituary draft for review, flags a missing detail, and lines up tomorrow’s paperwork so it’s ready when you arrive.

It doesn’t replace you. It anticipates you.

And when something doesn’t go as expected, it doesn’t freeze. It adapts. It learns from the day and makes the next one smoother.

That’s the difference.

Standard AI waits to be told what to do. Agentic Augmented Intelligence works toward an outcome.

One reduces friction at the edges. The other handles background processing so you can stay present where it matters.

And in funeral service, that difference isn’t technical. It’s human.

Funeral homes are already using Augmented Intelligence in practical ways. Drafting obituaries and eulogies to ease emotional strain. Creating personalized tribute videos and memorial websites. Automating scheduling, follow-ups, and routine communication. Supporting pre-planning conversations so families can move at their own pace.

Used well, this technology reduces administrative burden, improves consistency, and creates margin. Margin to listen. Margin to notice. Margin to care.

But power without purpose always creates tension.

Funeral service isn’t a typical business environment. Families arrive disoriented, vulnerable, and trusting us to carry more than logistics. They trust us with stories, memory, and dignity.

That trust is fragile.

So the ethical question isn’t whether agentic systems work. It’s whether we are prepared to lead them.

Technology can help draft an obituary, but it doesn’t know when a sentence feels wrong. It can assemble a tribute video, but it doesn’t feel the pause when a photo appears on the screen, and the room exhales together. It can schedule communication, but it doesn’t know when silence is more respectful than efficiency.

That discernment still belongs to us.

The information points us to something we’ve always known but sometimes forget. Leadership isn’t about control; it’s about stewardship. Stewardship means knowing where the line is and protecting it.

Agentic Augmented Intelligence should never be the voice of a funeral home. It should never make decisions that affect a family without a human standing behind them. It should never optimize for speed at the expense of care.

Its role is quieter than that.

It carries the background weight so that we can bring the human one.

That requires clear guardrails. Not technical ones. Moral ones.

Every message that reaches a family should pass through human eyes. Every system should be accountable to a person. Every use of data should honor privacy as an extension of respect. Every efficiency gain should be filtered through a straightforward question.

Does this create more space for presence?

Because presence is the work.

Agentic systems change how leadership shows up. We stop being the ones doing everything and become the ones setting direction, defining boundaries, and monitoring outcomes. That’s not abdication. That’s maturity.

The system doesn’t replace judgment. It demands better judgment.

The wrong question has always been easy to ask. Can we automate this?

The better question is quieter and harder. Should we?

Does this protect dignity? Does this strengthen trust? Does this help us show up better for people on their worst day?

When the answer is yes, Augmented Intelligence becomes a gift. When the answer is no, restraint becomes leadership.

Funeral service has always been about setting an example for how we walk and speak, and how we decide when no one is watching.

The way we adopt this technology will teach our teams what matters. It will show families what we value. It will reveal whether we believe care can be rushed or whether it must be held.

Agentic Augmented Intelligence is a tool—a powerful one.

But in this profession, tools must always serve people, not the other way around.

That’s how trust is protected. That’s how culture is shaped. That’s how we lead by legendary example.