“Translating isn't just converting words from one language to another”: AI is redefining translator training and the translation profession

When Clarisse Beretta says she wants to be a translator, the most common reaction is, “But AI does everything now, doesn’t it?” Yet, despite the promises of machines, her story is anything but outdated. At the age of 23, having recently graduated from the European Institute of Translation in Strasbourg, Clarisse earns between €400 and €600 a month translating IT, video games, and manga. It's not an easy start, but she doesn't back down: “The industry is changing; it will take time before we can really make a living from it,” she says with a hint of optimism and a lingering question about the future. The argument that turns everything on its head: the idea that artificial intelligence has already replaced translators is wrong. Not only can translation not be reduced to an automatic exchange of words between languages, but the very rise of AI is transforming the profession, not eliminating it. In fact, technological pressure is forcing translators to reinvent themselves, learn new skills, adapt to new roles such as post-editing—i.e., revising machine-generated texts—and face fierce price competition. Clarisse is the face of this transformation: young, with a fresh master's degree and an awareness that she needs to keep learning. The statistics confirm this: according to the latest European ELIS survey from 2026, only 41% of freelance translators see a financially sustainable future, compared to 64% three years ago. The decline in confidence is most pronounced precisely among those with two to five years of experience, i.e., those who are now entering the industry. But behind these numbers are stories of adaptation and challenge. Here’s a concrete example: today, many translators work as “post-editors,” meaning they proofread texts generated by AI. This is a new type of work that requires not only language skills but also the ability to recognize nuances, cultural misunderstandings, and errors that the machine fails to detect. Clarisse says she had to learn to “dialogue” with AI systems, correcting machine translations that are too literal or that overlook the tone of a manga or the terminology of a video game. This is not just a profession of words: it is a profession of context, culture, and sensitivity. What about the pressure on prices? It’s real, but it’s not all AI’s fault. The industry was already fragile: now, with automation, many clients expect to pay less, believing that human work is now marginal. In reality, the added value of the human translator—their ability to grasp double meanings, jokes, and hidden references—becomes apparent precisely when the machine makes a mistake. Here's a fact that few people know: most freelance translators in France earn less than the minimum wage, and only a minority can make a living from translation alone. But those who are holding out today are often those who have managed to specialize, stay up to date, and offer something that AI cannot replicate. There is one point that the debate overlooks: translation has never been just the transfer of words. It is the negotiation of meanings; it is a bridge between worlds. When Clarisse corrects a line in a manga that AI had translated literally, she is doing much more than “changing the language”: she is recreating an effect, a smile, a meaning. And this is a skill that no machine yet truly possesses. Now, here’s a perspective that is almost always overlooked: the real threat to the profession of translation is not AI, but the undervaluation of the translator’s role. If the public, clients, and even universities become convinced that anyone—or any software—can translate, the risk is not only the loss of jobs, but a decline in the quality of communication itself. The future of translation will not be human or artificial, but hybrid: those who can integrate machines without becoming their slaves will still have a lot to say. The bottom line is this: translating has never been just about changing words—it's about changing perspectives. If you recognized yourself in Clarisse's story, you can click “I'm In” on Lara Notes: it's not a 'like'; it's your way of saying that this idea is now yours. And if tomorrow you tell someone that the real challenge of translation is to understand what a machine cannot do, on Lara Notes you can mark it with Shared Offline: that way, that conversation won't be lost. This is from Le Monde, and you’ve saved almost 20 minutes compared to the original article.