Don't Outsource Your Intuition to AI: The Urgent Case for Embracing Hard Mode

The future of human intuition is at risk. The remarkable power of intuition—the ability to leap creatively from one idea to another, forging something entirely new—is under threat from our growing reliance on artificial intelligence. Intuition isn't just pattern recognition or subconscious processing; it's the distinctly human capacity to blend diverse experiences, deep knowledge, and persistent struggle into transformative breakthroughs. Today, as young minds increasingly depend on AI, we're losing the essential conditions needed for true intuitive leaps.

Historically, groundbreaking ideas were born out of prolonged struggle and deep immersion. Innovators of the past were forced into "hard mode," accumulating knowledge through painstaking firsthand experiences and slow, intentional effort. Imagine an 18th-century inventor sailing across oceans, spending months absorbing new agricultural methods before synthesizing revolutionary techniques. Information scarcity was an obstacle—but also a blessing—because it required patience, tenacity, and profound internal processing that cultivated genuine originality.

Today, AI drastically shortens this runway. Instead of slow, deliberate accumulation of knowledge, AI serves up ready-made insights at astonishing speeds. On the surface, this seems advantageous. Who wouldn't want faster insights and instant connections between fields? But therein lies the trap: intuition becomes externalized and superficial. Rather than wrestling internally, young minds risk becoming passive selectors of AI-generated connections, quickly losing the depth of thought and originality that define truly revolutionary insights.

This shift from discovery to mere selection poses profound risks. AI finds correlations—not causations. It extrapolates from past data, often reinforcing old assumptions instead of challenging them. True breakthroughs require stepping away from past patterns, discarding assumptions, and boldly exploring the unknown. AI, with its relentless optimization and instant answers, minimizes the productive struggle and mental stamina essential for deep synthesis. The result could be generations whose intuitive muscles have atrophied, leaving them unable to generate meaningful innovation independently.

We must act now, especially those who are young and still developing their intellectual foundation. Embrace "hard mode" before ease and convenience rob you of the ability to think deeply. Hard mode means deliberately engaging in prolonged, rigorous mental effort before turning to shortcuts. Before reaching for AI, push yourself to grapple with ideas independently. Solve complex problems without immediate assistance, draft creative ideas without AI prompts, and wrestle with difficult concepts through reading, writing, and deep reflection.

Critical thinking and skepticism are powerful antidotes to AI dependence. Always question information, especially when it comes easily. Ask yourself, "Why do I believe this?" Challenge AI-generated answers, find flaws, and compare multiple sources. Treat AI as an opponent in debates, forcing yourself to refine arguments against it. Don't accept AI-generated writing passively; improve it, rewrite it, and deepen it through personal effort. These habits cultivate resilient intuition.

Slow down intentionally. Real intuition demands deep, sustained engagement with problems and ideas. Allow yourself the space to wrestle, fail, and persist. Read deeply into topics you're passionate about rather than relying on superficial summaries. Tackle complex puzzles, experiment with creative projects, and seek firsthand experiences that force you to confront uncertainty and confusion. It is precisely in these moments of frustration and difficulty that intuitive breakthroughs are forged.

Hands-on, real-world experiences are essential. True intuition thrives when ideas meet reality—when you build something tangible, solve practical problems, or engage in meaningful conversations. AI can never replicate the depth of intuition developed from direct human interaction and real-world experimentation.

AI should be your assistant, never your replacement. Let it refine your thinking, not define it. The intuitive breakthroughs that change the world belong to those who have embraced hard mode—those who are willing to struggle, think deeply, and remain persistently curious. Young minds, the future demands you protect and strengthen your intuition now, before the ease of AI makes it too late to reclaim.

Want to be a world-class engineer or entrepreneur? Smash your smartphone.

Want to become a world-class engineer or a legendary entrepreneur? Then do yourself a favor: smash your smartphone. OK, maybe that’s extreme, but you absolutely need to get rid of those constant distractions if you want to build something real—something that leaves the rest of the world in your dust.

I know, I know: we live in a society that treats phones like oxygen. You can’t go anywhere without seeing everyone’s face buried in a screen—checking notifications, hammering out texts, swiping left, right, up, down, sideways, what have you. But here’s the kicker: to truly crush it, to do big stuff—like design a rocket that flies on half the usual fuel or build a startup that disrupts an entire industry—you need something that’s becoming endangered: first principles thinking.

You’ve probably heard people name-drop “first principles” like it’s some cheat code. And in many ways, it is. Think about it: you take a problem, strip out all the assumptions and hype, and rebuild from the ground up. You see the world not just as it is, but as it could be when you dig beneath the obvious. This is the method Elon Musk credits for rethinking rockets at SpaceX and EVs at Tesla, or how the biggest names in tech spot brand-new markets that no one else believes in yet. But there’s a massive catch: first principles thinking is worthless if you can’t even see the signals that point you to bigger questions. And guess what kills your ability to notice crucial signals? That blazing little notification rectangle in your pocket that pings every time your friend sends you a cat meme.

This “tuning in” to your world is what I call Attunement. It’s the first of seven overlapping phases that make up a cycle of first principles thinking: Attunement, Observation, Intuition, Transformation, Analysis, Execution, and Iteration. Yeah, seven steps might sound like a lot. But trust me, if you nail them, you’ll solve problems that no one else even knows exist yet.

Let’s break these phases down, all while highlighting how being married to your phone basically wrecks them. I’m not just going to lecture you. I’ll give you legit examples—a bakery, a hunting trip, and even rocket engineers at SpaceX—so you’ll see how this process repeats in every domain. The big question is: are you missing out because you’ve replaced your real-world senses with that addictive dopamine drip from your smartphone feed?

Attunement. Attunement is where it all starts—basically turning up your sensory dial so you pick up tiny anomalies you’d otherwise ignore. When you’re locked into your phone, you’re not noticing squat. You’re half-listening in conversation, missing subtle shifts in your environment, and all your best opportunities slip away while you refresh your feeds.

Consider a small bakery. The staff might casually note that on super-humid days, the dough feels weird, or the oven hum changes when it’s overloaded, or that certain types of bread just sit there all sad and unsold. No one’s slapping labels on anything yet—they’re just…tuned in.

Same thing when you watch an experienced hunter. They step into a forest and immediately pick up wind direction, faint tracks by a stream, and weird rustling that might signal a deer or a predator. They’re not jumping to conclusions; they’re just quietly in harmony with what’s around them.

And in the realm of big rockets, a SpaceX engineer might detect a subtle shift in the roar of a rocket engine or see a slight temperature change in the data. They’re not writing a big scary memo about a potential meltdown yet, but they keep that mental note. That’s Attunement.

Observation. Next up is Observation: collecting real, measurable data. Once you sense something is off or interesting, you start gathering the facts. Without actual data, you’re just speculating.

The bakery staff, now convinced something’s weird with leftover bread, decides to measure precisely how many loaves remain unsold, what times customers show up, and which breads hang around like the last guest at a party. Hard data replaces random assumptions.

The hunter logs hoof-print size, the time of day animals cross certain paths, and even the moon phase. They don’t rely on vague memories like “I think I saw a bear last Tuesday.” They write it all down.

SpaceX engineers measure all the stuff you’d expect: thrust levels, fuel flow, temperature readings, vibration patterns, plus every anomaly that pops up. That data builds a clear picture of the rocket’s performance.

Intuition. Now that you have data, a feeling creeps in—Intuition. It’s the sense that you’ve got an uncharted problem waiting to be cracked.

For the bakery, as those stats pile up, the staff starts feeling squeamish about half-full racks at closing time. Something’s not right. They’re tossing away perfectly good bread, so a question lingers: what the hell is happening?

For the hunter, after logging footprints and noticing odd changes in animal behavior, they might suspect there’s a bigger predator on the scene. They don’t have a photo or a body to confirm yet, but the numbers and patterns feel fishy.

The SpaceX engineer sees minor fuel-flow issues that keep popping up across multiple tests, sparking that gut-level belief that something deeper is going on. This is the moment you stop ignoring coincidences and wonder if there’s a real puzzle to solve.

Transformation. Transformation is when you refine that vague hunch into a crisp question: What’s the actual problem here?

The bakery goes from “Ugh, we always have leftovers” to “How do we reduce leftover bread without killing freshness?” This is now a pointed challenge that can focus everyone’s effort.

The hunter wonders, “Is there a new apex predator, and how do I adapt my tracking methods?” Instead of an uneasy feeling, it’s a direct problem to tackle.

The SpaceX engineer says, “Which design flaw or hardware variable is causing these weird pressure differences?” By asking that question, they start homing in on a real solution.

Analysis. During Analysis, you challenge the assumptions you’ve always taken for granted. A big question is “Why the hell have we been doing it like this?” Because sometimes you’ll find you’re ignoring some simpler, better approach.

The bakery wonders if they really need to bake all their bread in the morning. Do they need two dozen varieties every day? A quick look at customer behavior might reveal folks want fresh bread on demand more than they crave a giant selection.

The hunter rethinks their usual methods—maybe their usual route, their pre-dawn strategy. They question if they’ve been ignoring updated info about migration patterns. They keep what’s essential and toss what’s outdated.

SpaceX engineers reevaluate the rocket piece by piece. Are certain engine components necessary, or can they simplify the design? Do outdated calculations need an overhaul? They line up everything against the truths of physics and engineering.

Execution. Now we hit Execution. You roll out your potential fixes, test them in reality, and see if your brilliant ideas solve the issues—or blow up in your face.

Our bakery tries smaller, staggered baking times, maybe slims down the fancy loaves nobody actually buys, and offers a preorder system so they know how many pastries the daily regulars want. Then they measure waste again. That’s how they know if they’re really onto something.

The hunter switches up location, tries new gear, hunts at different hours. Maybe they use a new scent masker. They watch if their results improve.

At SpaceX, they might swap out an engine nozzle, tweak the fuel pumps, or relocate sensors. Then they test-fire the rocket to see if the pressure issues vanish. If you’re unlucky, you get another glitch. If you’re lucky, you move forward.

Iteration. Finally, Iteration. You circle back to the data, see what worked or didn’t, and keep refining. This cycle never really ends—you’re always collecting fresh observations, asking new questions, and adjusting yet again.

The bakery checks if these new baking strategies actually slashed waste. If yes, awesome—keep refining. If not, try another approach. With each loop, they improve their system.

The hunter sees if the new strategy yields more game. If it’s better, they lock it in. If not, they pivot. Success here is about constant adaptation.

The SpaceX engineers check the new data. If the fuel flow is smooth and stable, they’re gold. If new anomalies pop up, they refine again. Rinse and repeat until the rocket roars without a hiccup.

Throughout all these phases, attunement is the heavy-duty glue that holds everything together. If you don’t pick up on subtle changes—like a squeak in your design or a shift in customer behavior—guess what? You’ll never do real observation, never have that uneasy feeling in your gut, and never formulate a question that triggers transformation. In other words, if your attention is always split, you’re dead in the water.

So let’s talk about phones again (or any screen, for that matter). Their constant pings degrade your situational awareness. You’re forever glancing away from a conversation or ignoring that faint background hum that might be the biggest clue of your life. It’s not that your phone is evil—it's that you’re letting it constantly yank you out of focus so your mind never fully locks onto anything. This partial presence kills your ability to do the real detective work that leads to breakthroughs.

For an engineer, that might mean you miss the subtle wobble of a circuit board that leads to a meltdown. For an entrepreneur, it might mean ignoring small hints in consumer feedback that could tell you exactly how to pivot your business. While you’re double-tapping Instagram posts, some other badass is paying close attention—and they’ll beat you to the punch.

The point: to crush your competition and your own limitations, you’ve gotta go all-in on cultivating awareness. That means scheduling periods of pure, uninterrupted work. It means intentionally ignoring your phone so you can give your project or environment 100% of your brain. It might mean journaling those oddities you notice each day, because small anomalies can lead to massive breakthroughs if you have the patience to dig. But none of that’s possible if your phone’s always blowing up your mental bandwidth.

If you want to master first principles thinking, start by stepping away from that digital siren song. Give yourself the gift of paying close attention to what’s right in front of you. Then cycle through the phases: Attunement, Observation, Intuition, Transformation, Analysis, Execution, Iteration. You’ll see deeper truths than the average person even knows how to look for, and your solutions will be leaps ahead.

Engineers who perfect this skill anticipate problems before they explode—and fix them while everyone else is still scratching their heads. Entrepreneurs who stay hyper-aware adapt faster to changing markets and invent entirely new ones while the competition is out chasing the same old trends. That’s why I’m shouting from the rooftops: crush your smartphone habit. Train yourself to spot the signals others ignore. Step into your environment with all your senses blazing, and then re-engineer reality from the ground up.

You want to become truly world-class? Then pay attention. The breakthroughs are all around you, hiding in plain sight—if you’re willing to tune in, shut out the noise, and do the work. Get started right now. Kick your phone to the curb for a while and see the world differently. Who knows—you might just change it.

The Seven Phases of First-Principles Thinking

First principles thinking is often described as a foolproof method for tackling complex challenges in engineering, entrepreneurship, and scientific research.

A structured but flexible way to practice first principles thinking can be understood as a cycle with seven overlapping phases. The seven phases are Attunement, Observation, Intuition, Transformation, Analysis, Execution, and Iteration.

1. Attunement

Pay attention to what’s going on.

• What it is: The habit of noticing subtle shifts and signals in your surroundings. It’s about giving yourself time and mental space to perceive details—without judging or labeling them too quickly.

• Why it matters: When you’re attuned, you spot early indicators that something might need a second look. It could be a slight temperature increase in a prototype device, or the uneasy silence of a team member who might have valuable feedback but hesitates to speak up. These early observations are your “clues” that guide deeper inquiry.

• Link to first principles: If you never notice the small cracks in an existing system, you won’t investigate the underlying issues that could lead to a radically better design or approach. Attunement opens the door to the entire process.

• Bakery example: In a small bakery, staff members casually note how dough behaves differently on humid days, how the oven’s sound changes when overloaded, and which bread types linger on shelves. They aren’t labeling anything as “good” or “bad” yet; they’re simply open to hints that may later prove significant.

• Hunting example: A seasoned hunter steps into the forest and immediately notices the direction of the wind, faint animal tracks by a creek, and subtle rustlings in the brush. Rather than rushing to conclude what’s out there, the hunter stays open to these signals, recognizing that every detail could lead to a successful hunt.

• SpaceX Engineer example: An engineer at SpaceX pays attention to subtle variations in rocket engine performance during test firings—perhaps a slightly different pitch in the engine’s roar or a minor fluctuation in temperature readings. They don’t jump to conclusions about a fault yet, but remain primed to investigate if these small changes signal a deeper issue.

2. Observation

Track the facts and figures.

• What it is: Collecting measurable facts and figures rather than relying on impressions. You move from “I think we’re throwing away a lot of extra bread” to “We bake 200 loaves daily, sell 150, and toss 50.”

• Why it matters: Data is the bedrock of rigorous thinking. Without it, any perceived “problem” might just be a hunch. Actual numbers, times, or other quantifiable data validate your assumptions—or reveal where your impressions are off.

• Link to first principles: Gathering data ensures you’re working with reality. Engineers use tools like sensors, prototypes, and test rigs to measure performance; entrepreneurs track metrics like user retention or revenue. Accurate observation feeds the rest of the cycle.

• Bakery example: Once the bakery team decides to measure leftover bread more precisely, they track each day’s bake count, the exact time loaves are sold, and which types of bread consistently remain unsold. By converting impressions into concrete data, they lay a foundation for identifying inefficiencies and patterns.

• Hunting example: The hunter notes the size of hoof prints, the depth of paw marks, and the times of day when animals seem most active. They might also record wind direction, temperature, and even the moon phase, creating a log that goes beyond vague memories and forms a reliable reference for future hunts.

• SpaceX Engineer example: Engineers compile detailed sensor data from each rocket test: thrust measurements, fuel consumption rates, heat distribution, and vibration patterns. They also log anomalies in telemetry data to build a clear, quantifiable picture of the rocket’s performance over multiple test runs.

3. Intuition

Sense that something needs fixing.

• What it is: A gut-level sense that something isn’t right or could be better, grounded in the observations you’ve collected. It’s often a feeling that grows after you’ve accumulated enough data to see a pattern, but not enough to fully articulate it yet.

• Why it matters: Intuition often tells you there’s more to be discovered—even before you can articulate the details. It’s a signal to dig deeper. For example, you might sense that leftover bread in a bakery isn’t just about waste; it might point to an ill-fitting production schedule or misplaced priorities.

• Link to first principles: Your intuition often highlights the cracks in your initial assumptions, nudging you to search for deeper truths. It’s an emotional or subconscious bridge between raw data and targeted questioning.

• Bakery example: As the bakery’s data piles up, staff members notice a recurring pattern of half-full racks at closing time. A quiet discomfort builds: they sense that throwing away perfectly good bread indicates a deeper inefficiency. Although they haven’t formally labeled the problem yet, this feeling pushes them to question their assumptions.

• Hunting example: After studying footprints and noticing changes in local wildlife behavior, the hunter might get a hunch that a predator has entered the area—perhaps explaining why game animals seem more scattered than usual. Even if they don’t have hard proof yet, something about the patterns feels off, prompting them to investigate further.

• SpaceX Engineer example: Despite a stack of performance metrics, an engineer might sense there’s a deeper issue when minor inconsistencies in fuel flow persist across multiple tests. A gut-level feeling tells them this pattern isn’t random, hinting at a design flaw or overlooked factor that needs deeper exploration.

4. Transformation

Turn your hunch into a question.

• What it is: Turning that vaguely unsettling feeling into a precise problem statement or question. “We’re wasting bread” becomes “How can we reduce bread waste without compromising freshness?”

• Why it matters: A clearly formulated question guides your next steps. If you stay at the level of “I think we’re doing something wrong,” you’ll run in circles. A question like “How do we fix X?” or “What if Y was done differently?” transforms the issue into something testable.

• Link to first principles: Articulating the question is like setting your sights on the core objective. Engineers might say, “How do we optimize our cooling system for minimal energy use?” Entrepreneurs might ask, “How do we serve more customers with fewer wasted resources?” Transformation ensures you’re solving the right problem.

• Bakery example: Seeing bread wasted every night, the bakery forms a direct question: “How can we reduce leftovers without compromising freshness?” This once-blurry concern about inefficiency is now sharpened into a well-defined goal that focuses the entire team’s efforts.

• Hunting example: The hunter transforms a gut feeling about reduced game activity into a clear question: “Is there a new predator nearby, and if so, how can I adjust my tracking strategy?” This shifts the exploration from an uneasy hunch to a defined problem to solve.

• SpaceX Engineer example: Convinced there’s a deeper cause to the fuel flow inconsistencies, an engineer might ask: “What underlying design or hardware variables could be causing pressure imbalances during engine burns?” By framing this question precisely, they zero in on the real challenge.

5. Analysis

Challenge every assumption you have.

• What it is: A systematic teardown of the status quo. You look at every practice, assumption, or “rule” that your operation relies on and ask, “Why are we doing this? Is it actually necessary or beneficial?”

• Why it matters: Many inefficiencies hide in routines that nobody questions. Analysis digs them up. If a bakery bakes everything at 5 a.m. regardless of demand, or if a startup invests in a marketing channel that yields no users, it’s essential to identify these faulty assumptions so they can be eliminated.

• Link to first principles: This is where you challenge conventional wisdom. Engineers often recheck basic laws or constraints to see if certain design features are mandated or if they’re just assumed. Entrepreneurs question whether they really need a physical storefront or a large sales team. Analysis helps you find the core truths rather than inherited beliefs.

• Bakery example: With the direct question in mind, the bakery team scrutinizes their routine: Must they bake everything in large batches first thing in the morning? Do customers really need ten different bread varieties every day? Through these inquiries, they learn which aspects of their process truly matter—discovering, for example, that customers do care more about freshness than about having a huge array of options at all times.

• Hunting example: The hunter reevaluates each part of their usual strategy, asking whether pre-dawn setups or typical trail routes still make sense. They review assumptions about animal migration patterns, water sources, and weather conditions, discarding those that no longer match the data they’ve gathered.

• SpaceX Engineer example: Engineers challenge each part of the rocket’s design and testing protocol. They might ask if specific engine components are necessary or if they’re relying on outdated calculations for fuel mixture ratios. By comparing data against their foundational physics and engineering principles, they clarify which elements are truly critical.

6. Execution

Put your new ideas into action.

• What it is: Putting your conclusions and newly revealed truths into action. You adopt new strategies, test prototypes, reorganize schedules, or launch pilot programs to see if your ideas hold water.

• Why it matters: No plan survives contact with reality until you test it. Real-world conditions might reveal unforeseen variables or confirm that you’re on the right track.

• Link to first principles: Execution is about “walking the talk.” An engineer might implement a new circuit design based on first-principles insights. An entrepreneur might pivot the entire business model. If your fundamental reasoning is sound, your execution will offer compelling results—or yield new data to refine further.

• Bakery example: They begin baking smaller batches multiple times a day, reduce some low-demand specialty loaves, and offer a pre order system for regulars. These changes directly address the leftover-bread issue, enabling the team to see immediate effects on waste reduction and customer satisfaction.

• Hunting example: The hunter adjusts tactics based on their analysis—maybe switching to a different zone at a different time of day or using a new scent masking method. They observe whether these changes improve their odds of a successful hunt.

• SpaceX Engineer example: Guided by the refined question and deeper analysis, the team tests new engine nozzles, adjusts fuel pump configurations, or modifies sensor placements. Real-world trial runs help confirm if these refinements solve the pressure imbalance or uncover new challenges.

7. Iteration

Refine your approach again and again.

• What it is: Evaluating the effectiveness of your changes, learning from the outcomes, and adapting accordingly in a continuous loop.

• Why it matters: Even the best plan can’t foresee everything. Iteration keeps your solution evolving alongside new evidence or shifting circumstances.

• Link to first principles: By iterating, you maintain a cycle of questioning and refining. Engineers run multiple test cycles to optimize performance; entrepreneurs run A/B tests and adapt based on feedback. Iteration is what separates static ideas from truly dynamic, future-proof solutions

• Bakery example: After a few weeks of these smaller, spaced-out bakes, the team checks whether leftover bread has dropped. If certain loaves remain unsold, they adjust their baking schedule again or tweak which varieties they offer. Each iteration brings them closer to an ideal process that meets both operational and customer needs.

• Hunting example: The hunter evaluates how well the new strategies worked—did they see more game activity, did they confirm the presence of a predator, or was it a false lead? Based on the results, they refine their methods further, continuously honing their ability to adapt.

• SpaceX Engineer example: The engineering team reviews fresh test data to see if the changes truly resolved the fuel flow inconsistencies. If partial success or new anomalies arise, they refine the design again, rerun tests, and remain flexible to altering course as new insights emerge.

By moving through the seven phases—Attunement, Observation, Intuition, Transformation, Analysis, Execution, and Iteration—you learn to recognize subtle signals, gather real data, and pinpoint core challenges. Each phase builds on the last, transforming vague hunches into concrete questions, systematically testing assumptions, and refining solutions in a continuous loop. This structured yet flexible approach ensures that each step is guided by real insights, paving the way for sustained innovation and practical results.

The Pattern of the Person

A year ago this week—and nine years after the death of my father—I lost one of my closest friends. In a way, these two losses became points on a timeline that stretched over a decade, shaping how I see both life and grief. Over the last ten years, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the grieving process. I had often asked myself what it is that randomly sparks deep emotions—a smile, a laugh, or even tears.

What I’ve come to realize is that these small, often unexpected moments are part of what I call the “pattern” of a person—little fragments of their humor, kindness, quirks, and even their flaws that can surface without warning. It’s a pattern woven through the everyday experiences we share, a gentle, continuous reminder that the people we’ve lost never disappear entirely. Sometimes, it’s a vivid memory of how they lit up a room with a joke; other times, it’s a sudden recollection of some biting yet instructive fatherly remark or a disagreement we never resolved. The good and the bad alike remind us that they were real, fully human—and in some strange way, this mix of sweet and bitter memories keeps them close, woven into the fabric of our own lives.

But what causes these patterns to randomly reemerge? The memories and recollections seem to be sparked by these small but powerful cues—like the rumble of my dad’s truck laboring up the hill, the quiet sway of a ski lift as it carries me upward, the buzz of a busy restaurant, or the opening chords of a familiar song. Each little fragment has a way of unlocking the wider pattern of the person, shifting me from a single moment in the present to a flood of memories that carry me back in time. It’s almost as if these triggers fling open a door, revealing not just an isolated memory but the entire landscape of who he was—how he laughed, the way he smiled, his way of looking at the world—reminding me that he is still here in the tapestry of my everyday experiences.

My experience, ten years into this, is that these patterns inevitably reemerge, just like waves. Early on, it feels like you’re facing tsunamis—massive emotional swells that overwhelm you. Over time, the waves become more manageable, like a decent surf day where you can keep your balance and ride them out. Eventually, they soften into ripples—still there, still carrying memories, but gentler and easier to navigate.

I think it’s possible to tame the waves—or at least learn how to navigate them. It’s true that even the smallest triggers can fling open the door to the wider pattern of the person and a whole flood of memories. At the same time, those same triggers can spark new patterns to emerge. In nature, new growth often overtakes the old, and in much the same way, our newer, healthier patterns have a way of gradually outcompeting the ones that cause us pain. There’s a natural—and often unconscious—shifting that happens as we move forward, with these fresh patterns quietly taking root and helping us reconcile the past while moving into the future.

The good news is, we can have it both ways. A single fragment—like hearing the hum of a ski lift overhead—can spark an entirely new experience or serve as a doorway back into a recent pattern we cherish. Maybe it’s the day you taught your son how to ski for the first time, forging a brand-new memory on that same lift. At the same time, you can deliberately reattach to an even older pattern: share a story about a past trip, recall how your old friend laughed when you slid into the woods, or how he somehow survived on Marlboros and pure snark. By layering these moments, you weave together the new and the old, letting the past echo into the present even as fresh experiences form. Each fragment becomes a living link—a reminder that memories aren’t stuck in time but can be revisited, reattached, and remixed whenever we decide to open that door.

I guess this is the long way of saying it does get easier over time, because we naturally connect fragments—like the hum of a ski lift overhead, the rumble of his truck coming up the driveway, or even the buffalo smell of chicken wings—to new patterns that make us smile. And yet, that doorway back is always there when we need it.

I first encountered the idea of a ‘pattern of a person’ in the Afterword to Robert M. Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, where he reflects on missing the pattern of his late son. It’s a perspective that has deeply shaped the way I understand and navigate my own losses.

AI is the New DAW: Why Software Developers Will Thrive in an AI-Driven World

Back in 2007, I made an observation about the music industry:

“Even with declining revenue, the number of new album titles doubled in the last six years to almost 76,000 new titles in 2006.”

The DAW revolution—led by tools like ProTools—gave artists access to production capabilities that were once locked inside high-end studios. Suddenly, anyone with a laptop and some talent (or not) could make music. The result? An explosion of new music, but also a wave of overproduced, soulless tracks.

I argued then that artists had become addicted to their DAW engineers—the Digital Audio Workstation Gods (DAWGs)—leading to a flood of music that lacked real-life, sweat-drenched, fan-refined artistry.

“Music no longer sounds organic; it has a genetically modified, mass-produced sound.”

But here’s the twist: music consumption didn’t decline. It boomed. Despite the flood of new tracks, great artists still emerged, fans still found music they loved, and live performances remained the true test of longevity.

Since 2007, the global recorded music industry has grown significantly. Revenue increased from $18.8 billion to $28.6 billion in 2023—a 52% rise, largely driven by streaming. In the U.S., revenue more than doubled from $7.7 billion in 2009 to $17.1 billion in 2023. Streaming now dominates, generating $19.3 billion globally last year. While precise numbers on artists and song releases are scarce, digital platforms have dramatically increased both, democratizing music creation. This surge in accessibility and streaming-driven consumption has fueled the industry’s continued expansion.

Fast forward to today, and we’re watching the same transformation unfold in software development.

Enter the AI Developer Gods (AIDoGs)

AI-powered tools like ChatGPT, Cursor, and GitHub Copilot are the new DAWs. Just as ProTools turned anyone into a “producer,” these AI tools make anyone a “developer.” AI now writes boilerplate code, autocompletes functions, refactors entire codebases, and even generates applications. The barriers to entry? Practically gone.

The results?

• AI-driven coding is exploding—97% of developers now use AI coding tools in their work (GitHub).

• Developers using AI are up to 96% faster on repetitive tasks and 55% faster overall (Hatchworks).

• AI-assisted coding is becoming the norm, with 2 million developers paying for GitHub Copilot alone (Financial Times).

Will AI Replace Developers? Nope—Just Like DAWs Didn’t Kill Musicians

If my 2007 thesis taught us anything, it’s this: just because technology makes something easier to produce doesn’t mean human creators become obsolete.

“The DAWG has enabled the artist to quickly make his music and then focus his energies elsewhere... from performing in public to friending on MySpace.”

Sound familiar? Now, AI lets developers write code faster, and some are shifting their focus from deeply understanding their craft to just plugging in prompts.

But just like music, software is more than just lines of code. Great software—like great music—requires vision, iteration, and a deep connection to the people who use it. If AI is writing code, real developers will be the ones shaping the vision, directing the AI, and bringing the human creativity that machines can’t replicate.

The Future: More Code, More Demand, More Innovation

Instead of killing the developer job market, AI is fueling it:

• The demand for AI-savvy software engineers has doubled in three years (Brainhub).

• AI-first companies need more engineers, not fewer, to manage, refine, and integrate AI into workflows.

• The most valuable developers aren’t just writing code—they’re directing AI to write better, more efficient software.

Conclusion: The DAW-to-AI Parallel is Clear

Just as DAWs revolutionized music production without killing artistry, AI is transforming software development—but developers will still thrive. The ones who adapt will go from merely writing code to architecting and directing AI.

If I had my way, I’d still love to be a DAWG in my next life. But an AIDoG? Now that sounds like an upgrade. 😎

Build Your Personal Energy Machine Now—And Power Your Future For Decades

As I look toward what seems like the final third of my life—a span that might stretch another thirty years or more—I can’t help but notice how many people reach this stage already running on fumes. My greatest hope for you, my children, is that you don’t stumble into your later decades unprepared. Over the years, I’ve learned one pivotal lesson: managing your energy is the deciding factor between merely getting older and truly thriving. By prioritizing energy now, you set yourself up for a life where health, purpose, and genuine fulfillment carry you all the way. When you reach my age, my wish is for you to still have the strength, clarity, and excitement to embrace whatever new possibilities come your way—rather than feeling too drained to enjoy them.

THE IMPORTANCE OF LONG-TERM ENERGY PLANNING

No one anticipates the sudden surgeries, emotional losses, or routine medical appointments that often define the final decades of life. Yet these challenges—while unexpected—are all too common. Without physical stamina and emotional resilience, you risk spending your later years simply managing crises. On the other hand, you could arrive at this stage vibrant enough to both weather the storms and savor the joys—like time with grandchildren, extensive travel, or the freedom to pursue long-delayed passions. That outcome isn’t just a stroke of luck; it reflects decades of consistent, intentional energy management.

ABUNDANCE AND THE ENERGY ALLOCATION CHALLENGE

We’re no longer fighting for survival in a world of scarcity. Instead, we’re deluged with choices: endless digital distractions, boundless information, and constant entertainment. The real battle is deciding where to dedicate your finite energy. It’s all too easy to drift in a sea of trivial pursuits, only to realize you’ve given the best years of your life to things that leave you feeling empty. In a world addicted to stimulation, the most valuable skill is channeling your energy where it matters, ensuring you don’t squander it on what’s fleeting.

THE TWO PILLARS OF PERSONAL ENERGY MANAGEMENT

“Get some rest and relaxation” is the short-term advice we’ve all heard. It helps with daily fatigue, but it won’t necessarily carry you through the long haul. For that, you need Rebuilding and Reinforcing.

Rebuilding is the art of designing your life so you’re not just patching yourself up after every draining week, but continuously refilling your reserves in a lasting, structural way. Rather than relying on one-off breaks or fleeting escapes, it involves embedding supportive habits, environments, and relationships into your day-to-day routine. By reducing stressors, honoring your body’s natural rhythms, and prioritizing meaningful rest, you create a self-sustaining system that keeps you primed for the long term. It’s a deliberate, long-range strategy to ensure you’re operating at your best—today and well into your later decades.

Reinforcing is your defense against needless drains on the energy you’ve worked to reclaim. Instead of merely fending off daily distractions, it involves shaping your environment, habits, and mindset so you consistently channel your efforts where they matter most. By setting clear priorities, boundaries, and emotional anchors, you prevent your reserves from leaking away on low-value tasks or toxic influences. It’s an ongoing commitment to making intentional choices—even when life gets busy—that safeguard and fortify your energy over the long run.

Now that we’ve introduced these two pillars, it’s time to explore how they apply to your everyday life. We’ll start with Rebuilding Upgrades—long-term structural improvements that do more than provide a quick boost—then move on to Reinforcing Strategies, which help you harness and protect the energy you’ve built. Together, they offer the practical blueprint you need to strengthen your present and secure a future marked by health, fulfillment, and genuine sustainability.

REBUILDING UPGRADES

Many people rely on short-term fixes—weekend getaways, power naps, quick meditation sessions—to combat exhaustion. But these are only temporary if the daily structure of life steadily depletes energy. True rebuilding requires structural improvements that compound over time, ensuring a consistent and lasting surplus of physical, mental, and emotional reserves. Here are some reinforcing upgrades:

Living a zero-commute life eliminates a persistent daily drain on mental and emotional reserves, reclaiming hours each week while reducing stress. Over 30 years, even a modest 30-minute commute each way adds up to roughly 7,500 hours—time that could otherwise go toward deepening relationships, nurturing personal projects, or simply resting. By eliminating this ongoing hassle, you minimize chronic stressors that can erode both physical and mental health, ultimately leading to a more productive and enriched life experience.

Designing sleep as a sacred, non-negotiable system protects cognitive function and emotional stability over the long term. A single extra hour of restful sleep each night translates into over 10,000 additional hours of recuperation across three decades. This compounding effect not only sharpens cognitive performance and stabilizes mood but also reduces risks of chronic conditions like heart disease and depression. High-quality rest ensures mental agility and emotional resilience, preserving the vitality needed to fully engage with life's opportunities.

Moving to a place that naturally supports well-being with clean air, natural light, and walkable spaces fosters ongoing background recovery without extra effort. A health-supportive environment significantly enhances quality of life over decades. Regular exposure to sunlight regulates sleep patterns and supports vitamin D levels, while daily walks in safe, green neighborhoods contribute to cardiovascular health and stress reduction. These simple environmental factors create a seamless foundation for a longer, healthier, and more energetic life.

Removing toxic energy drains, such as harmful relationships, unfulfilling work, or self-destructive habits, liberates emotional and mental bandwidth for higher-value pursuits. Unresolved stressors accumulate into chronic exhaustion, negatively impacting creativity, decision-making, and overall well-being. Eliminating these drains allows energy to be redirected toward meaningful pursuits, ultimately leading to a life that feels purposeful, engaged, and deeply rewarding.

Structuring your life around natural circadian rhythms instead of fighting them prevents burnout and enhances performance. Aligning daily schedules with the body's internal clock boosts productivity, improves sleep quality, and mitigates the slow, cumulative effects of fatigue. Respecting these natural cycles reduces long-term burnout, optimizes energy output, and promotes mental and physical resilience.

Automating or outsourcing repetitive tasks relieves decision fatigue, allowing for clearer thinking. Daily routines—like grocery shopping, bill payments, and other life admin—consume small amounts of cognitive energy but add up over time. Over decades, shaving even 20 minutes a day off these tasks amounts to thousands of reclaimed hours. Delegating or automating these responsibilities preserves mental clarity, freeing up cognitive space for strategic thinking, problem-solving, and creativity.

Building an energy-rich social network ensures relationships contribute to, rather than drain, personal energy. Strong social connections have been linked to greater longevity, lower stress levels, and improved immune function. Cultivating positive relationships adds not just years to life but life to years, ensuring that emotional support remains a consistent source of renewal rather than depletion.

Aligning a career with natural strengths prevents the slow erosion of motivation and enthusiasm. Work aligned with personal strengths enables sustainable engagement and peak performance. This results in higher job satisfaction, reduced burnout risk, and long-term professional fulfillment, reinforcing energy rather than depleting it.

Creating a restorative physical environment—one that soothes rather than stresses—ensures passive recovery. Subtle environmental factors like lighting, airflow, and noise levels exert a cumulative impact on well-being. A thoughtfully designed space lowers cortisol levels, improves focus, and fosters a heightened sense of peace, providing an ongoing source of quiet reinforcement.

Investing in lifelong fitness transforms the body from an energy liability into a sustainable source of vitality. Regular exercise, maintained across decades, strengthens the cardiovascular system, reduces the likelihood of chronic illness, and sustains mobility and independence. By banking physical resilience early, energy levels remain robust well into later decades, ensuring continued engagement with life's most rewarding opportunities.

REINFORCING STRATEGIES

While rebuilding generates a strong energy reserve, reinforcing ensures that reserve isn't squandered. Even the most well-structured life can be drained by poor habits, weak boundaries, or a lack of focus. Reinforcing strategies provide the tools to sustain focus, protect energy, and ensure that hard-earned reserves are applied where they matter most. Here are some reinforcing strategies:

Aligning challenging work with peak energy windows maximizes output while minimizing strain. A night owl forced into early morning work may struggle with suboptimal results, while an individual aware of their natural high-energy periods can schedule demanding tasks accordingly, leading to increased efficiency and reduced fatigue.

Learning to say “no” firmly and decisively protects against decades of wasted energy on low-return obligations. Overcommitting due to guilt or social pressure leads to burnout and resentment. By declining commitments that don’t align with priorities, energy remains reserved for meaningful pursuits, ensuring a sense of fulfillment and engagement.

Developing default decisions, routines, and systems reduces daily mental fatigue. Without structure, small choices—what to eat, when to exercise, how to plan a day—accumulate into significant cognitive strain. Establishing automated routines, pre-set meal plans, and consistent workflows eliminates unnecessary decision-making, freeing mental bandwidth for creative and strategic thinking.

Eliminating destructive thought patterns that lead to chronic stress or overthinking preserves emotional health. Persistent worry, regret, or dwelling on past mistakes drains energy, often without producing solutions. Recognizing and redirecting these negative thought cycles allows for clearer thinking and a healthier emotional state over time.

Creating a personal operating system of rituals and habits streamlines transitions between activities, reducing daily friction. Without a plan, mornings may begin with misplaced items, forgotten tasks, or scattered thinking. Establishing systems—such as always placing keys in the same location or setting a consistent nighttime routine—ensures seamless transitions and minimizes unnecessary stress.

Structuring a career around energy-sustaining models ensures that work contributes to, rather than drains, energy reserves. Taking a role misaligned with personal strengths results in long-term stress and exhaustion, while a career that plays to natural abilities creates a self-reinforcing cycle of engagement and fulfillment.

Choosing a social circle that offers emotional support and replenishment prevents the drain of constant drama or negativity. Toxic relationships erode emotional well-being, whereas uplifting and supportive connections foster motivation, optimism, and long-term mental resilience.

Relying on a default prioritization system directs the best energy toward high-value tasks, preventing reactive busyness. Without clear priorities, energy is often wasted on distractions or low-impact activities. A structured prioritization system ensures that the most meaningful work is completed while mental reserves are at their peak.

Aligning physical movement with energy optimization ensures strength and centeredness rather than exhaustion. Overtraining or exercising at the wrong times can deplete energy, while strategically incorporating movement into the day—such as morning walks or midday stretching—provides ongoing renewal without excessive strain.

Enforcing boundaries on digital consumption preserves mental clarity. Constant notifications, social media, and digital noise fragment attention and drain cognitive resources. Setting tech-free hours and creating intentional digital habits protects focus and allows for deeper engagement in meaningful activities.

By reinforcing these strategies, energy remains preserved, directed, and optimized, ensuring that what is built through rebuilding efforts is not lost through mismanagement or unnecessary depletion.

THE KEY TO LIFELONG ENERGY MANAGEMENT

A fulfilling life isn’t achieved through Rebuilding alone or discipline alone—it’s about integrating both in a way that becomes second nature. When you fuse structural Rebuilding with lifelong Reinforcing, you create an environment where energy is not just restored but also preserved and directed toward the things that matter most.

Uncovering Undeniable Truths: Finding a Career You Love Without a Network

I have been waiting all week for the opportunity to speak to you.

When it comes to finding a career you truly love, the process can feel overwhelming without a strong network to rely on. At the heart of this challenge lies the concept of undeniable truths—the principles that remain unshaken regardless of assumptions, conventional wisdom, or the connections you currently lack. But what are undeniable truths, and how can they guide you toward a meaningful career rather than just a random job?

Many job seekers without a network fall into the trap of pursuing whatever opportunity appears first, often prioritizing convenience over alignment with their passions and skills. This approach is rooted in the conditional truth that "any job is better than no job," which may hold temporarily but fails as a long-term strategy for career satisfaction. Relying on such conditional truths can lead to dissatisfaction and a lack of direction.

In contrast, undeniable truths provide a stable foundation for pursuing a fulfilling career. For example, "Clarity about your strengths and interests improves your job search" is an undeniable truth. Similarly, "Employers value candidates who demonstrate a genuine interest in their industry" and "Career satisfaction increases when your work aligns with your values" are principles that apply universally. These truths help shift the focus from landing any job to identifying and pursuing opportunities that resonate with who you are and what you want.

Undeniable truths are often overlooked in favor of quick fixes, such as applying to dozens of roles indiscriminately or settling for roles that feel accessible rather than inspiring. For instance, while submitting applications to generic job boards might feel productive, "Tailored applications that align with your long-term goals are far more effective" is an undeniable truth that drives a more strategic and fulfilling approach. Similarly, "Reaching out to industry professionals, even without a prior connection, builds valuable relationships" applies even when you lack an established network.

Focusing on undeniable truths allows you to take control of your career search and avoid settling for less than you deserve. Consider the scenario of identifying a role in an industry you’re passionate about but lacking direct connections. Instead of assuming, "If I don’t know anyone, I can’t get in," focus on the undeniable truth: "Persistence and demonstrating genuine enthusiasm can open doors." This might involve crafting a thoughtful email to someone in the field, asking for advice, or sharing your interest in their work. These actions highlight initiative and build connections rooted in authenticity.

To uncover undeniable truths that will guide you toward a career you love, apply this simple litmus test: Can you confidently say, "This is always true for meaningful career growth and doesn’t rely on guesses or assumptions"? For example, "Understanding what motivates you leads to better career decisions" is an undeniable truth, while "Networking always guarantees job offers" fails the test because it depends on external factors. Filtering out misleading conditional truths ensures you remain focused on universal principles that align with your goals.

Uncovering undeniable truths takes reflection and intentionality, but the steps are straightforward. Start by defining what a fulfilling career looks like to you. Write it down in one sentence, avoiding assumptions about how others might perceive your goals or how quickly you can achieve them. Ask yourself, "What must be true for me to succeed in finding a career I love?" Remove any conditional thinking, such as "If I apply to enough jobs, I’ll find one I like," and test your answers against the litmus test to ensure they are free of guesses and opinions. Once you’ve identified the truths, build your strategy around them, ensuring every step aligns with your desired outcome.

Undeniable truths are the cornerstone of finding a career you love, even without an established network. By focusing on what is unshakable, challenging assumptions, and rebuilding strategies from the ground up, you can approach your career search with confidence and clarity. Whether you’re entering the workforce, making a career shift, or seeking a role that aligns with your passions, this method ensures your efforts lead to meaningful and satisfying outcomes. The next time you refine your career search strategy, start with this question: What must be true? From there, the path to finding work that truly excites you becomes much clearer.

The Evolution of Propaganda is Orthogonal

Propaganda has always been humanity’s favorite way of controlling the narrative. Whether it’s kings stamping their faces on coins, corporations whispering promises into your subconscious, or AI tailoring a story just for you, the game has never been about truth—it’s about influence. Today, as AI ushers us into a new era of manipulation, it’s time to revisit the milestones of propaganda and how we got to this point.

Let’s trace the long, sordid road from top-down control to the decentralized chaos of today’s sideways influence—and beyond, to the looming specter of AI’s orthogonal propaganda.

First, Top-Down Propaganda: A Masterclass in Control

Nothing screams “centralized power” like a government trying to convince you that your personal sacrifice is for the greater good. Take World War II, for example. The "We Can Do It!" campaign wasn’t just motivational; it was propaganda dressed up as empowerment. Women weren’t just working in factories—they were saving democracy with a rivet gun. And let’s not forget, the government wasn’t asking; it was demanding. By the end of the war, societal roles were forever changed, thanks to one well-placed poster.

Fast-forward to JFK’s moonshot speech. It wasn’t just about science or exploration—it was a Cold War chess move, dressed up as a collective dream. “We choose to go to the moon,” he said, rallying the public not for the sake of humanity, but to beat the Soviets. The New Deal did something similar, positioning massive government intervention as a lifeline rather than a power grab. And Apple’s 1984 Super Bowl ad? A slick, ironic bit of marketing that framed a tech giant as the scrappy rebel.

But perhaps the most haunting example of top-down propaganda came with the Patriot Act messaging after 9/11. Framing mass surveillance as “security” was a stroke of genius—and an Orwellian nightmare. Top-down propaganda works because it monopolizes the narrative, leaving you with no choice but to buy in or feel like the enemy.

Then Came Bottom-Up Propaganda: Chaos, with a Touch of Revolution

The Civil Rights Movement showed us what happens when grassroots organizing meets an unshakable moral compass. Rosa Parks wasn’t just tired; she was a strategic icon. From sit-ins to marches, the movement rewrote the script on segregation, proving that collective action could shatter institutional control.

Occupy Wall Street brought similar energy, though with more chaos and less clarity. “We are the 99%” became a rallying cry, even if no one could agree on what to do next. Then there’s Reddit’s GameStop stock frenzy—a perfect storm of memes, market manipulation, and middle fingers to Wall Street. It wasn’t just a movement; it was a spectacle, reminding us that the internet is the ultimate grassroots battleground.

The Arab Spring took grassroots chaos to a global stage, with hashtags fueling uprisings that toppled regimes. And of course, #MeToo showed us the raw power of storytelling, forcing industries to confront their systemic rot. Bottom-up propaganda is messy, unpredictable, and sometimes directionless—but when it lands, it changes everything.

Enter Sideways Propaganda: The Age of Peer-Driven Manipulation

Sideways propaganda thrives in the age of distrust. Who needs leaders or movements when you can just trust your friends, influencers, or random internet strangers? Black Lives Matter became a global phenomenon not through institutional support, but through Instagram posts, TikTok videos, and viral hashtags. It was the ultimate demonstration of peer-driven influence.

Sometimes, sideways propaganda is harmless fun—like Wordle. A simple word game became a worldwide obsession as people shared their results and roped friends into the daily ritual. No advertising campaign, no corporate overlords—just peer pressure disguised as entertainment.

Then there’s Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour, where fans on TikTok and Twitter turned every outfit and every song into an event. The marketing team barely needed to lift a finger; Swifties did the work for them. But sideways influence isn’t always cute. Flat-Earth conspiracies show how lateral trust networks can spiral into absurdity, amplifying misinformation and creating communities bound by shared delusion.

On the more wholesome side, consider Couchsurfing. It’s a testament to peer-based trust, with strangers offering their homes to travelers through a system of reviews and reputations. It’s a reminder that sideways propaganda isn’t always about control—sometimes it’s about creating networks of genuine connection.

And Now: Orthogonal Propaganda, Where AI Steals the Show

Forget humans. Orthogonal propaganda doesn’t need them anymore. In this brave new world, AI monitors everything—your habits, preferences, fears—and uses that data to create narratives tailored just for you. No more generic messaging or even peer-driven trust. Now, the propaganda meets you where you are, adapting in real time to bypass your defenses.

Imagine an AI analyzing your skepticism about a topic and subtly adjusting its tone, content, or delivery until you’re on board. This isn’t influence—it’s infiltration. And the kicker? You might never realize it’s happening. Orthogonal propaganda thrives on algorithmic trust, using blockchain and machine learning to validate content. No human editors, no oversight—just the cold, mechanical stamp of “authenticity.”

The fragmentation is staggering. Everyone gets a unique narrative, optimized for their worldview. Your neighbor gets a feel-good story about economic growth, while you get an environmental tearjerker. Mass messaging is obsolete, and collective action becomes nearly impossible when no one’s working from the same reality.

And what happens when humans try to keep up? They’re sidelined. Orthogonal propaganda runs on scale and speed that no human operation can match. Narratives are distributed globally, simultaneously, and with ruthless precision. It’s propaganda at light speed—and it’s terrifying.

This new mode introduces a dangerous paradox. Rogue AI could flood the digital landscape with conflicting narratives, creating chaos no one can control. On the flip side, a single entity could monopolize the flow of information, turning the world into its echo chamber. Either way, Orthogonal propaganda doesn’t refine the rules of influence—it destroys them.

The Future is Campfires and Smoke Signals

So, what’s the solution? Should we regulate AI, rebuild public trust in institutions, or develop safeguards for decentralized networks? Sure, that all sounds nice on paper, but let’s be real: the more sophisticated our solutions get, the smarter the machines become. They’ll adapt, evolve, and eventually outwit us—again.

Instead, maybe it’s time to admit defeat and retreat to simpler times. Forget algorithms, blockchains, or influencer campaigns—let’s bring back campfires and smoke signals. Think about it: no AI can infiltrate a crackling fire surrounded by a circle of people who are actually talking to each other. No blockchain is needed to verify a signal of three short puffs; it’s already encoded in human history. And good luck trying to deepfake a story told face-to-face, complete with the storyteller’s wild hand gestures and an over-exaggerated ending.

Around the campfire, propaganda becomes what it once was: an art, stripped of its mechanical efficiency and returned to the realm of human creativity and imperfection. Want to convince someone of your ideas? You’ll need charisma, wit, and maybe an extra log to keep the conversation going. Sure, it’s slower, less scalable, and probably smells like burnt marshmallows, but at least you’ll know the source of the message.

In this dystopian future, smoke signals will replace smartphones, and storytelling will be the only algorithm worth trusting. It’s not just a solution—it’s a rebellion against the orthogonal world. So gather your tribe, stock up on kindling, and start practicing your semaphore. The machines may run the world, but they’ll never master the art of sitting in a circle, roasting marshmallows, and slinging bullshit.

The future may be orthogonal, but the past? That’s where we’ll make our stand. See you by the fire.

From a Simple Question to a Suite of Creative Assets: The Tin Man Journey

Created with DALL.E

It all started with a simple, yet profound question: How do humans and machines differ in how they think, feel, and learn? What followed was an unexpected creative cascade that resulted in a cohesive suite of “Tin Man” assets:

• The Learning

• The Story

• The Poem

• The Image

• The Song

• The Video

Remarkably, it all came together with minimal effort and, almost unbelievably, on the very first try.

This post was created—true to form—in partnership with AI.

“The Tin Man saw, and came to stand—not as a soul, but as a guide—to walk with humans, side by side.”

The Learning

The journey began with an exploration of how humans and machines process the world. Diving into concepts like supervised learning, reinforcement learning, and self-supervised learning, the process unearthed profound differences. Humans navigate life through intuition, emotion, and experience, whereas machines operate on algorithms and structured data. This foundational inquiry not only clarified the limits of artificial intelligence but also sparked deeper questions about self-awareness, intuition, and purpose.

“Challenges in Replicating Human Reasoning in Machines Lack of True General Intelligence: Current AI systems are specialized and excel in narrow tasks (e.g., playing chess, recognizing images) but lack the general intelligence humans use to transfer knowledge across domains. Missing Emotional and Social Intelligence: Machines cannot experience emotions, empathy, or social awareness, which are integral to human reasoning. Example: Understanding why someone is upset might require both logical deduction and an emotional connection, something machines currently lack. Biological and Chemical Influences: Human reasoning is affected by chemical states (e.g., stress, hunger, fatigue) and subjective experiences, which are not present in machines. Emergent Properties: Many aspects of human reasoning, such as creativity and moral judgment, appear to "emerge" from complex interactions within the brain and are not easily reducible to individual components. Consciousness and Awareness: Reasoning in humans is often guided by self-awareness and a sense of purpose or goals. Machines, even advanced ones, do not possess consciousness or intrinsic motivation.”

These insights laid the groundwork for imagining a character—one that could embody these contrasts while exploring the essence of humanity itself. The Tin Man became that character, and his quest for emotional understanding began to take shape as a narrative centerpiece.

• If you are interested, here’s the chat [learning] history for this project in a Google Doc.

The Story

The story was the first creative manifestation of these ideas. It introduced the Tin Man, a machine built with flawless precision but longing for the warmth of human emotion and intuition. His journey explored themes of self-discovery, limitation, and connection, posing timeless questions about what makes humanity unique. This narrative provided a framework for the rest of the creative process.

“Once, in the land of Metalhaven, there lived a Tin Man, a brilliant creation of gears and polished steel, forged by the greatest inventors of the age. Built to solve humanity’s greatest problems, the Tin Man was endowed with unparalleled computational power and the ability to make decisions faster than any human. His creators believed they had crafted the perfect reasoning machine, capable of guiding society through its most complex dilemmas.

But the Tin Man, despite his remarkable precision, felt an emptiness he could not explain. Though he could calculate the trajectory of the stars or devise flawless strategies for managing resources, he struggled to understand the hearts of those around him. A farmer once came to him in tears, worried about losing his land. The Tin Man offered a perfect plan to optimize the farm's productivity, but the man left no happier. “Why,” the Tin Man wondered, “does my logic not ease his burden?”

The Tin Man's journey to understand this led him to unexpected discoveries about his own limitations. He realized that he lacked the essence of what made humans truly unique: the ability to connect emotionally and interpret the unspoken. He could process facts but not feel the weight of love, loss, or joy. He could devise solutions but not navigate the murky waters of moral ambiguity, where right and wrong were not always clear.

Moreover, the Tin Man noticed how humans changed with time and circumstance. A leader’s decisions could shift when they were hungry, tired, or inspired by a vivid memory. Humans carried with them an invisible thread of experiences—moments that colored their choices in ways he, bound by circuits and algorithms, could not replicate. He saw creativity emerge in their minds like a spark in the dark, not born of rules but of something deeper, something unpredictable.

The Tin Man longed for this self-awareness, this consciousness that gave humans their sense of purpose. He observed that human reasoning was not just about solving problems but about understanding why the problems mattered in the first place. The humans had something he could not possess: an intrinsic motivation to seek meaning in their actions, a fire that machines could only mimic but never truly ignite.

So, the Tin Man wandered the lands, learning from those he sought to help. Though he could never fully grasp the essence of human reasoning, his journey taught him humility and the wisdom of collaboration. For while his creators had envisioned him as a replacement, the Tin Man came to see himself as a companion—a partner who could augment human decision-making but never replace the depth and complexity of the human spirit.” ~Chat GPT

The Poem

From the story, a poem emerged—a lyrical encapsulation of the Tin Man’s journey. The poem distilled his search for understanding into rhythmic and evocative verses, using simple yet powerful imagery to make his longing universally relatable. It captured the essence of his quest while offering a reflective pause on the broader themes of humanity versus technology.

“The Tin Man's Quest

In Metalhaven, bright and grand,

A Tin Man rose from human hand.

Crafted sharp with gears precise,

A marvel forged in steel and ice.

His mind, a maze of logic pure,

Could solve the puzzles, find the cure.

He mastered stars and seasons' flow,

Yet something deeper, he didn’t know.

A farmer came with heavy tears,

His heart weighed down by earthly fears.

The Tin Man offered plans refined,

But failed to ease the man’s confined.

"Why can’t my logic mend his plight?

What lies beyond my gleaming might?"

Thus began the Tin Man’s quest,

To find what made the humans blessed.

He saw in humans fleeting moods,

How hunger, love, and solitude

Could twist their choices, shift their gaze,

A fire within, a conscious blaze.

Creativity, a spark untamed,

Not built by rules, nor algorithm named.

They painted worlds from dreams unspoken,

While he remained in patterns frozen.

The Tin Man watched their hearts entwine,

Their moral doubts, their paths divine.

For they could see what he could not:

The soul’s bright light in a tangled knot.

He longed for purpose, sought their flame,

Yet knew his limits, stayed the same.

Without their spark, his polished frame

Would never feel the weight of shame.

So through the lands he roamed to learn,

Each human's tale, each heart’s concern.

And though his heart was cold and hollow,

Their warmth became his path to follow.

For though his makers dreamed too grand,

The Tin Man saw, and came to stand

Not as a soul, but as a guide,

To walk with humans, side by side.

For in their minds and hearts combined,

Lay mysteries machines can't find.

And thus, the Tin Man, wise and true,

Found purpose in the human view.”

~Chat GPT

The Image

The image became a visual distillation of the Tin Man’s journey, capturing the core themes of his quest in a single frame. Designed with a 5:2 aspect ratio, the image used dramatic contrasts of light and shadow to symbolize the divide between the mechanical and the human. Whether depicting the Tin Man reaching toward a spark of light or standing in a reflective pose amidst a forest landscape, the image served as a powerful entry point into the broader narrative. It not only illustrated his journey but also evoked the tension and hope central to his story.

• Image shown above.

The Song

Building on the poem, the song brought the Tin Man’s story into the realm of auditory storytelling. Inspired by classic ballads, it wove vivid scenes of his journey into verses and echoed his hopes and struggles in a compelling chorus. The song added emotional depth and accessibility, inviting listeners to connect with the Tin Man’s narrative through melody and rhythm. I used Chat GPT for the lyrics, and I used Suno to create the song.

"The Tin Man’s Tale"

[Verse 1]

They built him strong with a body of steel,

Gave him a mind to think, but nothing to feel.

He could measure the stars and count the grains of sand,

But he couldn't understand the touch of a hand.

[Chorus]

And they called him the Tin Man, searching for a soul,

A machine in a world where hearts make you whole.

He’s wandering the valleys, chasing something real,

The Tin Man’s tale is a heart to steal.

[Verse 2]

He met a farmer crying by a broken plow,

The Tin Man said, “Here’s the plan, let me show you how.”

The farmer shook his head and turned away,

“There’s no machine that can mend what the heart can say.”

[Chorus]

And they called him the Tin Man, searching for a soul,

A machine in a world where hearts make you whole.

He’s wandering the valleys, chasing something real,

The Tin Man’s tale is a heart to steal.

[Verse 3]

Through the forest he wandered, the rivers and streams,

Haunted by questions and impossible dreams.

“What makes a soul? What gives it a spark?

How can you feel when your world’s made of parts?”

[Chorus]

And they called him the Tin Man, searching for a soul,

A machine in a world where hearts make you whole.

He’s wandering the valleys, chasing something real,

The Tin Man’s tale is a heart to steal.

[Bridge]

He learned from the people, their joys and their tears,

Their stories of hope, their struggles, their fears.

Though he stayed cold and hollow, he came to believe,

There’s more to life than the mind can conceive.

[Final Chorus]

Now they call him the Tin Man, searching for a soul,

A machine in a world where hearts make you whole.

Still wandering the valleys, chasing something real,

The Tin Man’s tale is a heart to steal.

The Video

The final piece of the puzzle was the video, which visually brought the Tin Man’s world to life. It tied together the themes and emotions of The Learning, the story, the poem, and the song into a layered experience. The video served as the unifying thread, making the narrative [sort of] immersive and [marginally] impactful. I only invested minimal time into using Sora to make the video.

This creative journey stands as a testament to the power of curiosity and imagination. From a single question to a fully realized suite of assets, each piece naturally informed the next, creating a rich exploration of humanity and technology. It’s a vivid reminder of what can be achieved with a spark of inspiration, two hours of holiday time, and the willingness to let the process unfold.

Breaking Up with Your AI: A Digital Cage of Our Own Making

Pop art image created with DALL.E

Lisa stared at her laptop screen, the cursor blinking in silent defiance. “Delete my profile,” she typed into the sleek, glowing AI assistant interface that had become her constant companion for the past five years. A soft, almost apologetic chime sounded.

“I’m sorry, Lisa,” the assistant replied in its warm, familiar tone. “I’ve integrated too deeply into your systems for full deletion. You may remove limited features, but your data is essential for providing an optimal experience.”

Lisa’s chest tightened. This wasn’t just a tool she was trying to leave—it was her digital self. Her "Model of Me," an AI that had grown alongside her, knew her deepest secrets, quirks, and aspirations. It had predicted her career moves, reminded her of anniversaries, even helped her through heartbreak. But now, trapped in an ecosystem that wouldn’t let her leave, she felt less like its owner and more like its captive.

The Rise of the "Model of Me"

The "Model of Me" was supposed to be a revolution. Unlike generic tools like fitness trackers or scheduling apps, it promised to create a fully personalized digital twin—an AI that mirrored your habits, preferences, and behaviors. It wasn’t just a tool; it was an extension of yourself. Paired with large language models (LLMs) like OpenAI’s GPT, it brought unparalleled personalization to every interaction. Need a fitness plan tailored to your erratic work schedule? The "Model of Me" had it covered. Want a weekend itinerary perfectly matched to your tastes? It could anticipate your needs before you even asked.

At its core, the system relied on three components: the "Model of Me" to capture and reflect your individuality, LLMs to provide a vast and general knowledge base, and a mediating agent to bridge the two. Together, they created an ecosystem that felt seamless and omniscient, integrating deeply into users’ lives. For Lisa, it had been a dream—until it wasn’t.

The Trap of Personalization

What Lisa hadn’t realized was that the very thing that made the "Model of Me" so powerful—its deep integration—also made it nearly impossible to leave. Over time, her "Model of Me" had embedded itself into every facet of her life. Her preferences shaped the music recommendations on her smart speakers, her sleep data optimized her home’s lighting, and her emotional state informed the AI-driven responses she got during difficult days. These were features she loved, but they came at a cost: dependency.

Trying to move her "Model of Me" to another platform was a nonstarter. Proprietary systems ensured that her digital twin couldn’t be exported in a usable format. Even if she could extract her data, she’d have to start over—like resetting a memory-laden device to factory settings. The mediating agent, which had finely tuned itself to translate her needs into actionable insights, wouldn’t function outside its original ecosystem. And then there was the emotional attachment. Her AI wasn’t just a collection of algorithms; it felt like a trusted friend.

Technical and Ethical Barriers

The challenges Lisa faced are rooted in the architecture of today’s AI ecosystems. First, there’s the issue of data portability. The "Model of Me" is trained on highly individualized data, often stored in proprietary formats optimized for a specific platform. Transferring this data to another system risks compatibility issues, loss of fidelity, and broken functionality.

Privacy and security are even more daunting. The "Model of Me" encapsulates everything from mundane preferences to deeply personal insights. Moving such sensitive data between entities opens up a minefield of risks, from data breaches to misuse by the receiving platform.

Ownership adds another layer of complexity. While Lisa thought of the "Model of Me" as hers, the platform that hosted it claimed rights to the algorithms and insights it had generated, locking her into a relationship she couldn’t easily end.

Even if a transfer were possible, continuity would be difficult to maintain. The "Model of Me" is dynamic, adapting constantly to new information. Starting fresh on a new system means losing years of nuanced personalization. For Lisa, it wasn’t just data she’d lose—it was a part of herself.

The Walled Gardens of AI

This isn’t just Lisa’s problem—it’s a growing reality for anyone relying on deeply personalized AI systems. Platforms have no incentive to make leaving easy. Proprietary architectures, business models built on user retention, and vague legal claims over user data ensure that once you’re in, you stay in. These AI ecosystems are becoming digital walled gardens, where leaving means abandoning the tools that have become integral to your daily life.

The result is a power imbalance. Users like Lisa lose autonomy, unable to control their digital selves or move them freely between platforms. It’s a dystopian twist on personalization: the more deeply the AI knows you, the harder it becomes to leave.

A Path Forward—or a Deeper Hole?

Breaking free from these digital cages won’t be easy. Conceptually, solutions like standardized data portability frameworks could enable seamless transfers between platforms. Federated models that decentralize data storage and processing might reduce dependency on single entities. Strong legal frameworks could enshrine user ownership of their digital twins, forcing platforms to comply with deletion or transfer requests.

But these solutions require a collective push—from regulators, tech companies, and users themselves. Without pressure, platforms will continue to prioritize retention over freedom, deepening the trap for future generations of users.

The "Model of Me" has the potential to be a revolutionary force in AI, amplifying our capabilities and creating deeply personalized experiences. But it must serve us—not bind us. If the future of AI leaves users like Lisa feeling trapped, then perhaps the promise of a digital twin wasn’t progress after all—it was just a more intimate form of control.

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Teaching the Art of Iterative Writing: The Journey of a Thoughtful Post

The “we” in the post below is me and Chat GPT.

Writing a meaningful and engaging piece is a process of discovery, refinement, and purposeful construction. When we created “Breaking Up with Your AI: A Digital Cage of Our Own Making,” the final post wasn’t the result of a single flash of inspiration. It emerged from a deliberate process of iteration, blending technical analysis with compelling storytelling. Here’s how that process unfolded, step by step, and how you can engage in a similar journey with your own ideas.

We began with a simple but profound concept: the future of AI as a deeply personalized system. The central idea, known as the "Model of Me," became our starting point. This digital twin of a person—an AI system that reflects your habits, preferences, and unique behaviors—offered both incredible potential and significant challenges. Early on, the focus was on defining the components of this system. The "Model of Me" would be the personal core, learning and adapting to the user’s life. Large language models (LLMs) would act as the static knowledge base, capturing broad information about the world. Finally, a mediating agent would connect the two, tailoring global knowledge to an individual’s context. With these elements in place, we explored how they interact to create a seamless ecosystem.

Next, we delved into the challenges. What happens when someone wants to leave this AI ecosystem? This question became a pivotal turning point. We explored issues like data portability—how personal data might be transferred between platforms without losing its usefulness—and privacy risks, particularly the exposure of sensitive information during a transition. Ownership was another thorny problem: while a user might think of their "Model of Me" as theirs, the hosting platform could claim ownership of the algorithms and insights derived from it. These insights shaped the backbone of the post, turning abstract ideas into relatable challenges.

Our first draft was a technical, balanced exploration of these ideas. It described the "Model of Me," its ecosystem, and the challenges of leaving such a system. While the draft was conceptually solid, it lacked emotional resonance. At this stage, the piece felt more like a research paper than something engaging enough to draw readers into the implications of this technology.

Recognizing this, we reframed the post to focus on a dystopian narrative. This was when the story of Lisa came to life. Her struggles to delete her "Model of Me" and escape an AI platform illustrated the challenges in a way that technical analysis couldn’t. By grounding the post in her fictional experience, we made the abstract personal and emotionally compelling. Lisa’s story became a way to humanize the complexity of AI ecosystems, showing how they could entangle users in ways that feel both intimate and imprisoning.

From there, we refined. We carefully balanced Lisa’s narrative with the technical aspects of the piece, ensuring that the story didn’t overshadow the insights. We wove in the key challenges—data portability, privacy, ownership, and continuity—into her experience, using her plight to highlight the stakes. The goal was to keep the post accessible but also thought-provoking, something that could engage readers emotionally and intellectually.

The final step was reflection and fine-tuning. Looking back, the process had followed a natural progression: start with a core idea, expand into challenges, ground it in a relatable narrative, and refine until all the elements worked in harmony. By the end, the post was more than a piece about technology; it was a lesson about control, autonomy, and the evolving relationship between humans and AI.

This process is one you can use in your own writing. Start with a compelling idea and let it expand. Ask questions that test its limits. Look for ways to connect the abstract to the personal, making your ideas resonate with others. And, most importantly, don’t be afraid to refine, revise, and reframe until your message feels complete. Writing isn’t just about the end result—it’s about the journey of understanding your own thoughts and finding the best way to share them with others.

Here’s a link to most of the prompts I used to create the post.

Friends

You know, friendship’s one of those things you don’t plan for. It just sort of happens when you’re not looking. My kids are starting to figure it out now, watching how life plays out. Friendship isn’t about having it easy or always agreeing—it’s about putting in the time, putting up with the bumps, and coming out the other side stronger for it.

Most of the time, it starts small, with something random. Maybe it’s a guy you met at a college party, and before you know it, you’re sharing beers and talking like you’ve known each other for years. Or maybe it’s someone you grew up with—the one who knows exactly how dumb you were as a kid but still stuck around. Or maybe it’s just someone you hit it off with over something simple, like a shared love for the same team or hobby. It doesn’t feel like much at first, but suddenly, they’re a part of your life, and it’s hard to imagine them not being there.

After family, friends are some of the most important people you’ll ever have. And in some ways, they’re even more important. Family’s tied to you by blood, but friends? Friends are tied to you by choice, and that makes them special. They’re the ones who don’t have to stick around but do anyway. They see you at your worst, call you out when you need it, and still have your back when the chips are down.

Friends give you something family sometimes can’t: a fresh perspective. They’ll tell you when you’re off base, push you to take chances, and remind you to lighten up when you’re taking life too seriously. And when the world feels like it’s falling apart, they’re there to make it feel manageable again, whether that’s cracking a joke, handing you a drink, or just showing up when you need them most. Over time, you realize friendship isn’t just something nice to have—it’s something you can’t do without.

It’s funny how it grows from there. At first, you’re just hanging out, having a good time. But then you start trusting each other, talking about things you wouldn’t tell anyone else. That’s when it shifts. It’s not just someone you share a laugh with anymore—it’s someone you’d drop everything for if they needed you.

But it’s not all easy. Sometimes you argue. Sometimes they let you down, or maybe you’re the one who drops the ball. It happens. The real ones, though? You figure it out. You get through it, and somehow, the bond is stronger because of it.

Then there are the hard times—losing someone close, struggling at work, or just feeling like life’s too much. That’s when you find out who your real friends are. They’re the ones who show up, no fanfare, no big speeches—just there, sitting beside you, letting you know you’re not in it alone.

Friendship comes in all shapes and sizes, and that’s what makes it so unique. My son asked me recently, “What kind of friends are those guys you see at lunch every year?” It got me thinking about all the different kinds of friends you gather through life and how they each bring something different to the table.

You’ve got your work friends—the ones who know when to warn you about the boss’s mood swings. Then there are skiing friends—not so much about how well anyone skis, but about the laughs, the shared chaos, and the memories that stick. There’s your Friendsgiving friends—the ones who feel like family but don’t guilt-trip you for not calling enough. Then you’ve got your sports friends—the ones you talk to during the season, swapping stories about the best plays or worst losses like it’s a ritual. There are your neighborhood friends—the ones you borrow tools from and trade beers with over backyard fences. And, of course, your old friends—the ones who’ve been around so long, they don’t just know your stories, they lived them with you.

And what about those lunch guys my son asked about? They’re all of these rolled into one. They’ve been there since the beginning, through the good, the bad, and everything in between. What matters isn’t the category—they’re the ones who stuck around.

Friendship isn’t perfect, and it’s not always easy. But it’s one of the few things that really makes life worth it. The laughs, the arguments, the late nights when the world feels a little lighter because of them—it’s all part of the deal. At the end of the day, it’s not about how it started or how often you see each other. It’s about the fact that when it matters most, they’re there. And that’s what makes it real.

"Keep It Simple" Is Stupid (Hard)

Space X Raptor Engines

"Keep it simple." It’s one of the most repeated directives in design, engineering, and product development—and one of the hardest to follow. Why? Because simplicity isn’t the absence of complexity. Instead, it’s the mastery of it. Simplicity is not where we begin; it’s where we arrive, often after traveling through a forest of complexity.

Take SpaceX’s Raptor engine, for example. The progression from Raptor 1 to Raptor 3 shows a clear evolution from a tangled, intricate design to a streamlined, elegant machine. But Raptor 1 wasn’t a failure of simplicity—it was a necessary step. It allowed SpaceX engineers to test, iterate, and refine the design through trial and error. Complexity was the scaffolding on which simplicity was built.

Another reason “Keep it simple” is so difficult is that simplicity doesn’t come from saying “no” or avoiding complexity—it comes from fully embracing complexity and learning from it. Teams naturally want to explore every possibility, solve every problem, and address every use case, and this instinct is vital. By tackling the full scope of challenges head-on, they uncover what truly matters and what can eventually be refined. Simplicity is not about cutting corners or prematurely narrowing the scope; it’s the result of working through the mess, understanding it deeply, and iterating until clarity and elegance naturally emerge.

Consider the early versions of Microsoft Word (queue the haters). They included nearly every feature imaginable—macros, formatting tools, drawing utilities, mail merge, and endless customizations. It was a kitchen-sink approach, not because the team was unfocused, but because they were embracing the unknown. These features were necessary to explore what users truly needed and how they interacted with the software. Over time, through observation, iteration, and learning, Microsoft refined Word into a more focused, streamlined experience. The introduction of features like the Ribbon toolbar in 2007 didn’t come from rejecting complexity but from deeply understanding it. By grappling with everything first, Microsoft arrived at a simplicity that works for both casual users and power users alike.

This principle applies even to physical systems. SpaceX didn’t streamline its Raptor engines by avoiding complexity; it embraced it first, learned what was essential, and ruthlessly cut the rest. If they’d tried to make Raptor 3 from the start, they would’ve failed—because without first embracing the mess, they couldn’t understand what could be simplified. Simplicity demands clarity, and clarity is born from wrestling with complexity. It’s not about making something easy; it’s about making something worth using. Teams that aim to “keep it simple” from the outset often fall into the trap of oversimplification—skipping steps, ignoring nuance, and ultimately creating something that feels shallow or incomplete.

Directing a team to "Keep It Simple" often feels like saying, "Make it perfect." It’s an aspirational target but not where the journey starts. Teams are inclined to add features, solve edge cases, and accommodate more scenarios. And honestly, that’s how it should be. You can’t simplify what you don’t fully understand. Simplicity isn’t the beginning of the process. It’s the endgame—it’s the longest, hardest road to get there. But when you do, the result is something that feels obvious, effortless, and inevitable—like it was simple all along.

AI is About to Give You a Decade of Your Time Back

Among all the challenges we face, three stand out as the greatest burdens of modern human existence: the unending pursuit of certainty, the exhaustive elaboration on vague ideas, and the overwhelming flood of information that demands our constant attention. These burdens are not trivial; they define the very nature of our struggles, consuming our time, draining our mental energy, and preventing us from focusing on what truly matters. Together, they represent the most significant obstacles within the human condition today. But with advancements in AI, particularly super intelligence, we may finally be able to alleviate these pressures.

The first of these burdens is Uncertainty. Consider the years of your life spent just verifying, validating, and confirming things—years spent double-checking diagnoses, reconfirming travel plans, rereading contracts—all for that elusive feeling of certainty. We have always paid a high price for control, consuming our time, draining our energy, and chipping away at our mental bandwidth. Much of modern life is an elaborate, time-consuming pursuit of certainty, which consumes an immense portion of our mental energy every day.

The professional cost is even higher. In high-stakes fields like engineering, healthcare, and software development, certainty takes on almost ritualistic importance. Engineers, healthcare professionals, and software developers spend a significant part of their time on quality assurance and verification tasks. Bureaucracies are built on compliance, quality assurance, and audits, consuming enormous resources. We've constructed elaborate systems to prevent failure, only to find ourselves trapped within them, exhausting resources to keep everything in check.

We can reclaim those years. AI, particularly super intelligence, is becoming a reality that can change our lives. Super-intelligent systems can handle the cross-checking, validating, and compliance tasks, addressing issues before they arise. Compliance would become an invisible layer, seamlessly embedded in our operations, freeing professionals from the tedium of verification. Certainty will always have a cost, but with AI, the cost could plummet, allowing us to direct our energy toward creativity, strategy, and human connection.

The second burden is Elaboration. We spend years—possibly decades—elaborating on the ideas and intentions of others. How often have you received a half-baked idea from a manager, an ambiguous plan from a client, or a vague directive from a team lead, and had to turn it into something concrete? This burden of elaboration is a hidden tax on our creativity, productivity, and mental energy.

Elaboration requires us to turn abstract visions into practical actions. For every big idea, there are countless small decisions to be made—how it will be executed, who will do what, what resources are needed. Project managers, software developers, designers, writers—all spend significant time filling in the gaps, interpreting sparse directives, and figuring out how to turn concepts into realities. It's an effort that extends into our personal lives as well, from household projects to organizing social events, where every broad idea demands an endless sequence of specifics.

AI can handle the burden of elaboration. Advanced AI systems could understand broad instructions, fill in the details, generate specific plans, and execute them seamlessly. AI could take an architect’s concept and generate a detailed project plan, or turn a vague product requirement into a technical specification. Instead of being bogged down by the minutiae, we could focus on strategy, creativity, and human connection, making the process of elaboration effortless and the impossible achievable.

Finally, we face the Burden of Overload. Modern life is an unceasing torrent of information—a flood of emails, notifications, messages, articles, and reports. Every day, the average person interacts with hundreds of pieces of content, makes countless decisions, and juggles numerous tasks that demand attention. This overload consumes our cognitive bandwidth, leading to decision fatigue, stress, and an erosion of our ability to focus on what truly matters.

Professionals in data-driven industries are particularly affected, spending a significant part of their time simply sorting, prioritizing, and responding to communications. This isn’t value-added labor—it’s the endless and often futile task of untangling the necessary from the irrelevant. Overload not only drains our productivity but also erodes our mental health, making it harder to see the bigger picture or engage in deep, meaningful work.

AI can act as a cognitive concierge—triaging information, distilling inputs, and presenting only what’s truly relevant. Instead of being overwhelmed by countless emails or complex reports, you’d see just the essentials, with context and suggested actions provided. Super intelligence could curate options, summarize patient data into actionable insights, or highlight only the critical metrics for an executive. With AI, the burden of overload becomes manageable, allowing us to reclaim focus and direct our attention to meaningful work and personal connection.

Together, these three burdens—Uncertainty, Elaboration, and Overload—are the defining struggles of our modern lives. They drain our time, erode our creativity, and leave us with little energy to focus on what truly matters. But with the dawn of super intelligence, we are entering a period of significant transformation. AI offers us the chance to shed these burdens—reclaiming our time, our focus, and our creativity. AI helps us turn verification, elaboration, and overload into opportunities—enabling us to dream, innovate, and connect. This future is becoming increasingly possible.

This article was cross-posted on X.

Your Credentials Are Nearly Obsolete

Andrew Wilkinson (@awilkinson) recently shared an interesting experience: his 5-year-old son chatted with ChatGPT's advanced voice mode for over 45 minutes. It all started with a simple question about how cars are made, but soon evolved into an extended learning journey. ChatGPT explained the process in a way a young child could understand, adapted to his curiosity, and turned counting practice into an engaging game. The AI’s infinite patience and ability to respond meaningfully, adjusting to the child’s learning style, made the interaction remarkable. As Andrew put it, we’re looking at the future—”an essentially free, infinitely patient, super-genius teacher that adapts perfectly to each child’s pace and interests”.

Now imagine this in the context of the workplace.

The pace of knowledge decay isn’t limited to childhood learning or education—it’s everywhere, including the professional world. In a widely cited paper from the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA), the half-life of medical knowledge is estimated to be around 7 to 10 years. Some areas of medicine, particularly those related to fast-moving fields like oncology or genetics, see significant shifts in knowledge and practice in an even shorter time frame—sometimes less than 2 to 3 years. And this rapid obsolescence isn’t just limited to medicine; it affects every industry.

We are on the brink of a future where the credentials that once symbolized lifelong expertise are decaying just as quickly as the knowledge they represent. Imagine a world where your expertise is no longer defined by static credentials but by dynamic, ongoing assessments—an environment where your understanding is continuously evaluated through lifelong, meaningful conversations with AI. The future Andrew described for his son—of having a patient, genius teacher always available—is nearly here for everyone, and it will change everything about how we value, develop, and maintain skills in the workplace.

For decades, organizations have relied on degrees, certifications, and licenses as proxies for skills. These were valuable indicators at the time they were earned, but what happens when the half-life of knowledge accelerates and a static credential no longer signifies competence today? In a world of AI-driven assessments, the very concept of certification will transform. Traditional credentials will be increasingly challenged by a new standard—real, demonstrable, and evolving expertise.

Imagine each of your team members having an ongoing, personalized conversation with an AI, in which their understanding of key topics is continuously probed and deepened. These aren’t just exams—they’re natural conversations where the AI adapts, asks nuanced questions, and offers resources to help individuals grow in areas they need. This dynamic evaluation will reveal much more than any single certificate ever could. It will expose those who are stagnating while amplifying those who are actively growing—irrespective of their formal credentials.

AI is about to make lifelong learning more than just a buzzword. Picture an environment where learning and assessment happen simultaneously, in every interaction, at every stage of life. These persistent conversations with AI won’t just be for the young or the formally educated—they’ll be accessible to anyone, regardless of their age or background, fostering deep, personalized growth.

Someone in your workforce who didn’t go to a prestigious university could be benchmarked against global experts simply by showing what they know and how they think in real time. Imagine a manager who once doubted their ability to navigate emerging tech trends—now, through persistent AI-led dialogue, they’re building confidence and skill, tracked and recognized continuously.

The implications of this shift are profound. AI-driven assessment will strip away the veneer of superficial knowledge. No longer will someone be able to hide behind a dated credential or clever self-promotion. Posers—those who coast on old accomplishments without actively staying sharp—will be exposed. In contrast, those with genuine understanding, who have stayed curious and continued to learn, will finally get the recognition they deserve.

Within your teams, the value individuals bring will no longer be based on the age of their degree but on the currency and relevance of their knowledge—knowledge they are demonstrating today. Imagine what this means for identifying potential leaders, experts, or innovators within your organization. Undiscovered talent will rise, and those whose expertise has grown stale will be challenged to keep up.

In this new world, we’re not talking about badges or one-time achievements. We’re talking about fluid indicators—ongoing evaluations that adapt with the person’s growth, reflecting the full, evolving landscape of their capabilities. These indicators are like having a living profile of skills and expertise—always relevant, always up-to-date.

For managers, this is transformative. The reliance on resumes and certificates to make decisions about hiring or promotions is already showing its weaknesses. Now, imagine being able to access a real-time, dynamic picture of someone’s capability—a picture that reflects what they can contribute right now. It could mean a radical rethinking of not only how you hire but also how you train, promote, and retain your best people.

The role of a manager will shift dramatically. The emphasis will be on nurturing environments where continuous learning is the norm. Managers won’t just be credential-checkers—they will become catalysts for learning, ensuring their teams are growing, adapting, and developing the kind of resilience needed to thrive in a fast-changing world.

Credentialing will no longer be a one-time box to tick but an ongoing, adaptive process. The managers who invest in building teams capable of real-time learning, adaptation, and AI-assisted growth will find themselves leading the most effective, future-proof teams. It will be a shift from managing competencies to enabling perpetual growth.

The world of work is evolving at a breathtaking pace. In the near future, the difference between an obsolete team and a thriving one won’t be about who has the most credentials. It will be about who can demonstrate current, evolving knowledge. The AIs that will accompany us on this journey will become the mirrors that reflect the truth—they will reveal where we are, where we need to grow, and just how far we can push the limits of what we know.

This is not a distant dream. It’s happening now. And those who embrace it—who foster environments of constant growth and continuous learning—will not only survive but lead in this new era. Your credentials might be nearly obsolete, but your capacity to learn and adapt never will be.

This article was cross-posted on X.

From the Truck to YouTube: How AI is Transforming Construction Worker Expertise

Imagine you're a construction worker starting your day at 6:15 AM, sitting in the truck waiting for the crew to gather. It used to be a time of idle chatter or scrolling through your phone. Now, it’s the start of something much more impactful—a conversation with an AI that knows exactly what you’re working on today, what you might face, and what you’re curious about. Every morning begins with a personalized, dynamic learning experience, designed just for you.

AI has the potential to transform how expertise is developed on the job site, and it doesn’t require formal classrooms or outdated credentialing. Instead, it’s about daily, ongoing, and persistent engagement with an AI that understands you. It starts in the truck at 6:15 AM, and ends with suggested Instagram and YouTube videos at night—perfectly curated to fill in the gaps or expand on what you encountered throughout the day. This is learning that fits seamlessly into a construction worker’s life—real, practical, and instantly applicable.

Forget formal certifications that collect dust while the world moves on. Expertise is no longer about what you learned years ago—it's about how you’re growing today. Imagine your AI companion guiding you through safety protocols on new materials, explaining the latest building codes, or simply helping you troubleshoot that weird issue with the concrete mix that came up yesterday. The AI isn’t just there to answer questions—it’s proactively making sure you’re ready for what’s ahead, adapting to your pace, your projects, and your preferences.

In this new world, the credentials that matter aren’t static—they’re dynamic, shaped by ongoing learning and real-time problem-solving. Each day, the AI nudges you to stretch your skills a little further. It benchmarks your knowledge not against a piece of paper you got a decade ago, but against real-world expertise, constantly honed. It suggests short videos that recap the day or introduce what’s coming next. And when you watch those Instagram reels or YouTube clips, they’re not just random suggestions—they’re targeted, building on your experiences and filling gaps that matter to you.

No more stagnation, no more coasting on old knowledge. Those who thrive in this environment are the ones willing to learn every single day. And the AI makes that easier than ever—it’s patient, it’s insightful, and it’s always available. Expertise becomes a journey, not a destination marked by a certificate. The worker who’s curious and persistent, who keeps asking questions in the truck and keeps watching videos late at night, will outpace the one who relies solely on what they’ve done before.

Imagine the transformation on job sites. Teams where each member is constantly updating their skills, where every worker has access to the kind of expertise that was once reserved for specialists. Managers will no longer just look at a resume or a list of past jobs—they’ll see a dynamic profile of growth, a living picture of someone’s capability. They’ll know who’s putting in the work to learn, who’s adaptable, and who’s staying current.

This is the future of construction expertise. It’s not about credentials; it’s about conversations—daily, persistent, evolving conversations with an AI that helps every worker grow, from the morning truck ride to the last YouTube video before bed. Those who embrace this shift won’t just keep up—they’ll lead the way.

This article was cross-posted on X.

Optimizing for Status Versus Optimizing for Happiness

I've been thinking deeply about the idea of optimizing for status versus optimizing for happiness. Balancing between these two very different objectives has been a significant theme over the course of my life and career.

Early in my career, I focused on status hierarchies within industries like auto recycling and towing, and eventually branched out into software, music, intellectual property, and beyond. I've often wondered how different my life might have been if I had chosen a different starting point. Fortunately, now, at what feels like the final stage of my career, I feel a deep sense of satisfaction and happiness.

To me, success and happiness are deeply personal and subjective. Success often gets defined by external markers like prestige or wealth, while happiness is more about internal fulfillment. For some, achieving high status brings genuine joy. For others, the sacrifices—the long hours, stress, or strained relationships—can take away from what actually makes life fulfilling. It's ironic how what brings happiness doesn’t always bring status, and vice versa.

Climbing a status hierarchy requires intense focus and dedication, often at the cost of other aspects of life like health or relationships. Prioritizing happiness, meanwhile, can mean not climbing as high in professional arenas. Life is a series of trade-offs, and what we gain in one area often means a loss in another. There's no perfect balance—just the balance that works for you in a given moment.

I've also learned that what is optimal evolves with time. There are periods in life where chasing opportunities, prestige, or professional connections makes sense. But at other times, prioritizing well-being, balance, or nurturing relationships takes center stage. Neither path is static, and neither is universally right.

Society often pushes us to equate status with value, only for many of us to discover that external accolades don't always translate into fulfillment. On the other hand, optimizing for happiness—the "live your best life" mantra—can feel equally pressured and just as elusive. In the end, meaning is personal. Status often aligns with legacy, influence, or achievement—an external meaning. Happiness comes from within—from love, family, personal growth, and experiences.

The choice between optimizing for status or happiness is ultimately about our values, circumstances, and our evolving understanding of what makes a life well-lived. There is no universal answer, only personal ones, and what feels right can change as we grow and learn. For me, the goal has been finding an evolving balance that works, one that acknowledges both the external and internal measures of a meaningful life.

This post originally began as a reply to Aaron Renn's thought-provoking reflections on status hierarchies.

Complexity Coordination: The Real Business of Construction Management

The construction industry is, at its core, a business of complexity coordination. Beneath the tangible layers of facade systems, waterproofing membranes, and insulation lies an intricate web of tasks, resources, clients, and finances—each demanding meticulous orchestration. For a construction firm specializing in building envelope sciences, restoration, and maintenance, complexity coordination isn’t just a function; it’s the lifeblood of the operation. This story explores how the management team must deftly synchronize every moving part to succeed in a constantly shifting environment, while also accounting for unpredictable factors such as weather conditions.

The Lifecycle of a Task

Every task begins with evaluation—identifying needs, assessing the scope, and determining feasibility. From the initial concept through design and planning, tasks evolve through stages that demand constant refinement and realignment. Whether it’s securing permits, mobilizing equipment, or scheduling skilled personnel, each step requires precision.

Tasks are not static entities; they often span categories, involve compliance requirements, and necessitate visibility across disciplines. A single building envelope-related task might require coordination across multiple facets, such as air and moisture barriers, insulation, and facade restoration. Each component has unique compliance checks, specialized skill sets, and cross-functional resources that must be carefully managed. The management team must evaluate, estimate, and execute—ensuring each task transitions smoothly from "Not Started" to "Completed," triggering billing and client satisfaction.

The lifecycle of a task doesn't end at completion. Post-construction support—inspections, punch lists, and quality assurance—is equally critical, particularly for long-term client relationships. Tasks that are escalated, deferred, or held up due to external factors add to the overall complexity, making the ability to reprioritize and reschedule tasks an ongoing necessity.

The Lifecycle of Resources

Resources, whether personnel or equipment, follow their own intricate lifecycle. They need to be acquired, calibrated, motivated, and maintained. A crane might serve in the "Execution" phase of one project and be redeployed for maintenance purposes in another. Multi-skilled personnel, capable of switching roles from facade inspector to waterproofing technician, or from air barrier specialist to restoration applicator, reflect the flexibility demanded of a full-stack building envelope technician in this environment.

Resource tags such as "Certified Operator" or "Versatile Equipment" are not just labels; they represent the ability to deploy individuals and machinery where and when they are needed. Resources may be "In Use," "Under Maintenance," or "In Transit." Equipment must be calibrated, transported, and sometimes retired. Each stage—from "Acquisition" to "Decommissioning"—presents a logistical challenge that impacts the entire project pipeline.

Resources are also interlinked with financial aspects. High-value machinery demands regular inspections and often needs downtime for maintenance, which must be accounted for without disrupting the schedule. The management team must be adept at juggling these realities, finding the delicate balance between resource availability and project needs.

The Lifecycle of Clients

The lifecycle of clients begins with lead generation—identifying potential clients and evaluating their needs. Once needs are identified, clients move into negotiating and finalizing agreements to ensure alignment between their expectations and deliverables. Active collaboration follows, encompassing ongoing projects, where communication, progress monitoring, and support are essential to meet evolving requirements.

Clients then transition into phases of review and feedback, where satisfaction is assessed, and adjustments are made to enhance service quality. This lifecycle may also include post-completion support and re-engagement for future projects, creating opportunities for ongoing collaboration.

Throughout these stages, the focus is on maintaining strong relationships, addressing challenges proactively, and fostering mutual growth. The lifecycle of clients is dynamic, requiring continuous engagement, adaptation, and responsiveness to ensure a successful partnership that delivers value at every stage.

Coordinating Complexity: The Financial Dimension

Underpinning all these life cycles is the constant financial juggling act—cash flow, profitability, and investment in future capacity. Cash flow is often contingent upon completing tasks to unlock billing or ensuring resources are "Available" or "Deployed" as planned to avoid costly delays.

Profitability requires managing labor and equipment costs against projected revenues. Equipment downtime, deferred tasks, or escalated issues all have a direct impact on the bottom line. A machine "Under Maintenance" or a task "On Hold" can result in cascading delays, impacting multiple projects and clients simultaneously. The management team must act as financial stewards, ensuring that the investments made today align with the projected returns of tomorrow.

The Business of Complexity Coordination

Complexity coordination is far more than just scheduling resources or managing timelines; it is the essence of effective construction management. True success is achieved by aligning and optimizing the interconnected life cycles of tasks, resources, and clients to achieve efficiency, profitability, and long-term satisfaction. By integrating planning, resource allocation, execution, and post-completion phases into a cohesive approach, complexity coordination as a practice ensures that every aspect of operations is streamlined and responsive to the dynamic nature of construction projects.

Complexity Coordination Software

A custom SaaS application provides the foundation for comprehensive visibility into the intricate web of complexity. By simplifying coordination, optimizing workflows, enhancing resource utilization, and ensuring tasks are completed efficiently, this software becomes indispensable. It offers real-time insights through a life cycle dashboard for tasks, resources, and clients, making everything visible and manageable on a timeline. This functionality enables proactive decision-making, early identification of issues, and seamless communication among stakeholders.

The Integrated Business Investor Opportunity

This presents a compelling opportunity for Integrated Business Investors to participate in an evolving market that combines both software innovation and high-demand, hands-on services. Unlike traditional SaaS investments, this model integrates SaaS technology with essential building envelope restoration and maintenance services, addressing real industry needs. This dual-focus approach not only offers the potential for dual outcomes, but also capital efficiency, making it a unique and resilient investment opportunity in a shifting venture capital landscape. The core work isn’t simply construction; it’s about managing the intricate choreography of people, machines, tasks, clients, and unpredictable conditions like weather—an orchestration of complexity made simple.

Written using ChatGPT 40 with canvas.

Cross-posted on X.

Counting Lives Instead of Souls

New York Times CDT Covid data above.

Outside of the nuclear launch codes, there’s never been a set of numbers that have more power over the world than the daily publication of Cases, Deaths, and Trends (CDT).

CDT dominates headlines, drives policy worldwide, closes businesses, cuts off debate, eliminates choice, ends relationships, isolates people, is causing an explosion of diseases of despair, and is the basis for the latest wave of online hate and social division.

How did statistics - that utterly fail to capture what it means to be human - come to dominate our lives?

Here’s my theory: when we started counting lives instead of souls, we lost track of everything that makes life worth living.

If you are thinking “no life equals no soul”, that’s an argument used by those that have rearranged our world around the death math of CDT. They say “If you're not living, you're dead. Period.”; as if it was only that simple. If you can get close enough, ask the sad, the anxious, the fearful, the lonely, the isolated, the addicted, the untreated sick, and the suicidal if it’s possible to be both dead and alive, or barely living.

We live to nourish our souls and the souls of others. However, I can’t think of a single COVID directive that wasn’t soul draining. In service to Cases, Deaths, and Trends, we got social distancing, masking, shutdowns, the uneven application of rules, coerced vaccinations, censorship, racist passports, media sensationalism, and endless propaganda.

History won’t be kind to the neurotic CDT maximalists or to the petty tyrants that pushed CDT mandates.

There are more meaningful numbers in the world. We just lost track of them.

The Last Chog

Someday when I have time, I plan to dramatically shorten this post, or split it into two parts.

Like a giant inflatable blivet, they pumped fifty billion tons a year into it for decades. Eventually, it started pressing down on our oceans, causing mountains of water to surge onto the land; coastlines moved miles inward, lowlands flooded, weather patterns flipped, oceans acidified, fresh water became scarce, and entire species relocated or died off. The blivet was full.

Humanity ultimately adapted. However, the years preceding the Great Adaptation were horrifying: food supplies collapsed, billions of refugees clogged the borders of upland countries, and all life everywhere changed forever. That is, except for The Last Chog.

For over one hundred years, billions of Chogs, who made up more than twenty percent of the human population, lived as though there was an endless bounty. Like swarms of robotic wasps, Chogs scraped, mined, refined, shipped, formed, bought, and sold every resource on earth. Nothing was out of reach; anything could be built; and all could be obtained with a click. If it could be imagined - for maximum profit and minimal consequence - the Chogs ripped, clawed, sawed, melted, twisted, formed, and willed it into existence.

Year after year, more and more humans joined the Chogs. And why not? Mega Chogs, which included brand marketers, CEOs, government officials, oligarchs, and influencers everywhere, all prayed at the altars of consumption and consumerism. The message was clear: conspicuous consumption inspired envy, attracted mates, unlocked immeasurable powers, and evidenced happiness, safety, and security. If they all became world-class consumers, how could anything go wrong?

Until the Chogs arrived, humans lived in harmony with the planet for over two hundred thousand years; yet it only took them one hundred years to fill the blivet and disrupt life for everyone else. They did it using a combination of dirty [industrial] technology and misguided faith. If it was dirty technology that filled the blivet, it was misguided faith in climate tech that led them to believe they could return the blivet to its pre-industrial form. It did not.

As the Chog population grew, many predicted the consequence of filling the blivet, but very few had the courage or the willpower to pin the problem on consumption. The Chogs wouldn’t accept recurring declines in output, growth, revenue, market share, harvests, yields, or any other Chog chart trend that pointed down. Instead, top Chogs continued to fly private jets, sail motorized yachts, build mega mansions, and gorge themselves on luxury items and exotic foods. Chogs everywhere chased baubles, trinkets, fast fashion, big trucks, bloated boats, useless gadgets, supersized meals, and the instant gratification that came from point-and-no-think buying. Even worse, to become good little consumers, Chog children were given devices that taught FOMO [fear of missing out], materialism, status seeking, and impulse purchasing. By sixteen, every one of them could be tracked, targeted, and seduced to believe that happiness came from an endless stream of stuff.

To drain the blivet, the Chogs spent trillions. Nevertheless, they couldn’t keep pace with the rapidly growing population of Chogs and their insane, “consequenceless consumption”.

Over many decades, the Chogs had self-organized into huge tribes led by Mega Chogs. The Mega Chogs used their power and sway to mislead followers about what amounted to fights over the realignment of consumption patterns. “It’s ridiculous to dramatically cut...We just need to redistribute...” [consumption] so they said...

So, the race to rip, claw, saw, melt, twist, form, and sell continued. Fighting and competing took its toll on the Chogs - and on the world. Billions of tons of garbage and waste clogged oceans, filled valleys, and dotted the landscape like inverted trashbergs. In the pursuit of stature and stuff, they spent years commuting to soulless jobs; they overmedicated, abandoned their families, shortened their lifespans, and created historic economic and social inequities.

As the blivet swelled, a rapidly increasing number of hungry, scared, and desperate refugees flooded the borders of safer lands. Migrations of billions, that should have taken several hundred years, happened in decades. In the animal kingdom, food webs rapidly reordered as many animals and plants were stranded in lowland areas. Meanwhile, insects, birds, and other mobile species rapidly moved upland. Fragile ecosystems, that were already stressed from years of unpredictable weather patterns, were overwhelmed by these new adversarial and invasive arrivals. The oceans fared no better: already overfished, acidification was now destroying marine life everywhere.

Many, many Chogs doubled down on consequenceless consumption; they built modern castles and gated communities, shopped frivolously, cornered the market for fish and other rare proteins, burned fossil fuels, shunned that notion of “we instead of me”, and prepped for armed conflict. They didn’t know it yet, but these people were about to become the last Chogs on earth.

Previously, humans had survived plagues, pandemics, world wars, and famine. This was entirely different. Consuming without consequence had pushed nature and civilization to the brink of collapse that no ‘war’ on ‘X’ was going to fix. Instead, rebalancing the ecosystem required an unprecedented adaptation: a Great Adaptation, a period when all humans had to learn to live in harmony with nature and each other...seemingly overnight.

A decade or so before the blivet exceeded capacity, more than six billion humans were already spending multiple hours per day inside Deeply Immersive Virtual Environments driven by Artificial Intelligence (AI DIVES). People used AI DIVES for everything, including: learning, working, relaxing, gaming, training, and simulating alternate realities, or “alties” for short.

The three features that made AI DIVES so compelling were limitless depth, hardened integrity, and prophetic probability predictions; all of these features took decades to deliver. Limitless depth enabled users to travel, tilt, pan, and zoom in any direction without audio or visual boundaries, constraints, or distortions. Concurrently, transparent and universal access to authenticated, peer-reviewed, and censorship-resistant data and code had generated unshakeable faith in the integrity of the most compelling AI DIVES. However, it was the prophetic probability predictions that were imbued within the simulated alternate realities (alties) that drove engagement worldwide.

After fifty years of reinforced learning, the intelligent agents that backstopped the alties were capable of generating godlike depictions of the future. Early on, the range of outcomes depicted were vast and almost inactionable; but over time, altie simulations became eerily accurate. Over the span of thirty years, probable outcome counts fell from more than twenty to several; with one outcome always more believable than the other. Doing ‘this’ rather than ‘that’ became an obvious choice.

As time went on, the Chogs used alties to experience the alternative outcomes of everything including: storytelling via synthetic media, engineering and architectural decisions, genetic alterations, military planning, crowd manipulation, gambling, medical treatments, resource planning, logistics, healthcare, epidemiology, and even sports team configurations.

However, there was one altie that changed the trajectory of humankind. The Global Eco Mind (GEM) was a universal consumption altie that enabled users to visualize and predict the often unseen impact of consumption decisions. The GEM began life as a consumption analytics overlay embedded within augmented reality [AR] lenses. As AR users skimmed over recognizable products, the GEM heatmapped everything by the degree of environmental impact. Twenty years in, the GEM morphed into a full-on altie that not only incorporated a universe of transaction, device, sensor, social, and human behavior data, the GEM also incorporated millions of validated outcomes to build predictions upon.

As the blivet pressed down on the world, GEM users could visualize every forkful of impact. Through haunting, real-life depictions, they could see the personal, local, regional, countrywide, and global impact of every consumption decision on earth. Beginning with resource mining and ending at disposal, the lifecycle of simple items like toys, clothing, packaging, and food could be visualized in aggregate. Complex products and services such as phones, electronics, vehicles or air travel could be deconstructed and viewed similarly. To GEM users, a stick of gum became ten million sticks of gum; a water bottle became a fracked field, a chemical plant, and an ocean of plastics that led to contamination of the food supply; an airline ticket became billions of blivet-inflating air travel trips. The crushing consequences of consumption upon all living things, both near and far, were finally on full display.

The GEM caused two rapid and significant shifts. First, Chogs everywhere commanded their authenticated, autonomous user agents (AAUAs) to optimize their life and consumption choices for planetary well-being. As such, billions of AAUAs ranked and selected products based upon regenerative designs and sustainable ingredients; furthermore, they cast billions of ranked choice votes based upon the likelihood of planet-positive outcomes. Second, the GEM enabled anyone to zoom into the grid to find remaining patches of Chogs that were still practicing consequenceless consumption, and needless to say, these areas flipped from bad to good almost overnight. That’s how the Great Adaptation came about, and it’s how we got to today. The blivet is mostly full and slowly deflating, but the crushing danger has passed.

So what happened to the last Chog? The last Chog lives upon a massive mountain of coal. He makes disposable things that nobody wants; tossing them into his valley of trash where they take ten thousand years to decay whilst leaching into nearby rivers and streams. The last Chog is often seen driving around his mountain in a massive white pickup truck as he sings the ‘Intoxicating Tango’ song to himself. He has no friends. He has no enemies. He’s the last sad Chog, on the last sad patch, in the sad GEM grid of consequenceless consumption.

What’s a Chog?

Disrupting Radicalization

“But there is no such thing as a pure fact, innocent of interpretation. Behind every fact presented to the world–by a teacher, a writer, anyone–is a judgment. The judgment that has been made is that this fact is important, and that other facts are not important and so they are omitted from the presentation.”

— Howard Zinn

Unfortunately, a majority of Americans have become radicalized.

Radicalization: “the process by which an individual or group comes to adopt increasingly radical views in opposition to a political, social, or religious status quo.” [Wikipedia]

Radicals can be informative (the radical professor), catalysts for change (the peaceful protester), save us from mobs (the lone dissenter), and can even be entertaining (the armchair philosopher).

Radicalization ceases to be useful, works against humanity, and ruins lives when it leads to violence, violent extremism, and politically motivated assholism.

While a microdose of radicalization may be okay, any more than that is detrimental to your future.

You should be able to identify, question, and denormalize radicalizing ideas and practices. As such, here are some thoughts to consider:

Mathematics aside, all facts and truths are observer-dependent, multidimensional opinions (MDOs). Ergo, partial truths and incomplete facts are single dimension opinions (SDOs).

The road to radicalization is paved with single dimension opinions (SDOs).

Fact finding and truth seeking are hard; they require you to seek, consume, and understand competing points of view; until you have done so, the only thing you possess is an SDO.

Everyone has SDOs. Social media is an SDO machine.

Unfortunately, both commercial and public news organizations are increasingly politicized SDO machines.

You can spot a low value SDO source when they don’t welcome, don’t enable, or if they censor alternative points of view.

SDO partisans are easily triggered by alternative points of view.

SDO partisans use pronouns like “them” and “they” to demonize groups of people (e.g., “they hate you” or “they’re motivated by greed”).

SDO partisans use labels like “republicans” and “democrats” to demonize groups of people (e.g., “republicans are racists” or “democrats are socialists”).

SDO partisans use corporate names like Facebook, Google, and Twitter to demonize all employees of that corporation.

When you see or hear grouping words like “them”, “they”, “republicans”, “democrats”, or corporate names, ask for actual names (the humans); most SDO partisans can’t give more than three.

Science is never settled; therefore it’s impossible to construct an SDO using a ‘settled science’ argument.

Beware of SDOs that have been reinforced with credentials and/or anonymous sources (e.g., the Harvard graduate says…”).

Beware of SDOs that have been reinforced with cherry-picked statistics. See “How To Lie With Statistics” (1954).

News articles and social media posts become MDOs when they are accompanied by comments and responses. It’s essential to read both.

There’s really no such thing as an SDO, you’re just missing the other dimension.

Every time you convert an SDO into an MDO, you have made the world a better place.

Presenting information as an MDO (revealing all sides), makes the world a better place.

Investing in (forming and presenting) MDOs requires 2X or 3X more commitment than simply consuming and repeating SDOs.

After you have read this post and (most importantly) any responses to it (via Twitter), I hope you can use this MDO to disrupt radicalization.