I'm apparently supposed to be terrified of artificial intelligence. It is going to make me lazy. It's going to stop me from thinking. It's going to make everybody dependent on machines. Eventually, according to some people, none of us will know how to do anything for ourselves.
There's only one problem.
That's not what is happening to me.
I'm spending less time sitting at my desk.
That's one of the funniest parts of this entire argument.
People picture AI as something that's going to glue humans to a computer screen.
For me, it has done almost the opposite.
I can get up.
I can walk around.
I can talk.
I can think out loud.
I can explain a complicated idea conversationally and have software understand enough of what I'm saying to help me organize it, challenge it, rewrite it, research around it and turn it into something useful.
I have personally lost nearly twenty pounds during a period in which AI has become a major part of my workflow.
I'm not claiming AI is a weight-loss program.
That's not the point.
The point is that I don't have to sit in the same chair doing every mechanical step manually anymore.
This is what 1999 was supposed to look like.
We were promised this future.
If you're Generation X, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
Movies told us computers would talk back. We'd speak naturally to machines. We'd have information instantly. We'd carry computers around. We'd ask questions conversationally. Machines would help us design, diagnose, calculate and create.
We thought that was the future.
Turns out the future was just running a couple of decades behind schedule.
To engineers of my generation, some of this still feels like science fiction.
Star Trek shit.
Not because a chatbot is the Starship Enterprise.
Because the interface changed.
For most of computing history, humans had to learn how to speak to the machine.
Commands.
Syntax.
Programming languages.
Search operators.
Menus.
Interfaces.
Forms.
Databases.
Now the machine is increasingly learning how to meet humans in ordinary language.
But I didn't just open AI and become an expert.
This part gets conveniently skipped.
I started experimenting with this technology years ago.
And early on, it drove me fucking crazy.
It would make mistakes.
It would confidently misunderstand something.
It would generate an answer that looked right but wasn't right.
My first reaction was the same reaction a lot of people still have:
Correct.
Sometimes it is.
Then I figured out the part that changed everything:
I had to learn how to use it.
I studied it.
I took coursework and certification training.
I learned how context changes output.
I learned how to challenge an answer.
I learned how to identify hallucinations.
I learned when to verify.
I learned when the machine was useful.
And maybe more importantly, I learned when not to trust it.
Ask. Accept. Publish.
Give it a vague prompt, accept the first convincing answer and assume the machine knows more than you do.
Ask. Challenge. Verify.
Give context, inspect the answer, correct mistakes, test assumptions and use your own expertise to decide what survives.
That's the distinction people keep missing.
AI is an accelerator.
If you know what you're doing, it can make you dramatically faster.
If you don't know what you're doing, it can help you produce bad work dramatically faster.
Experienced people can explore, draft, test and iterate at extraordinary speed.
You can interrogate ideas repeatedly without waiting for another person to become available.
If you can't recognize nonsense, AI can manufacture enormous amounts of polished nonsense.
Tasks that once consumed days or weeks can sometimes be compressed dramatically.
Six-month projects can become days.
That's the part engineers understand immediately.
There are projects that used to require enormous amounts of mechanical labor.
Research.
Documentation.
Boilerplate.
Testing ideas.
Comparing approaches.
Building prototypes.
Rewriting.
Data organization.
Repetitive development work.
None of those things necessarily disappear.
But the cost of doing them can collapse.
And yes, I developed a relationship with the tool.
Before somebody loses their mind over that sentence, I'm not claiming there's a tiny human being trapped inside my computer.
I mean relationship in the practical sense.
I learned how to communicate with it.
It learned the context I supplied.
I learned how it tends to fail.
I learned how to push it.
I learned when it was misunderstanding me.
And because modern AI is deliberately built to interact conversationally, the experience can feel dramatically more human than traditional software.
That's useful.
Sometimes I get pissed off.
Really pissed off.
I can dump the frustration into a machine, argue with the problem, organize what I'm actually trying to say, and come back with something considerably less likely to get me into trouble with another human being.
That's valuable too.
What confuses me is how little people demand from this technology.
We took people to a lake full of fish.
Not just a lake with fish somewhere underneath the water.
I'm talking about fish practically jumping onto the bank screaming:
“Eat me! Eat me!”
And somehow the response is:
“Can you catch it for me?”
Fine.
Then:
“Can you cook it for me?”
Fine.
Then:
“Can you put it in my mouth?”
At some point, the problem isn't access to information anymore.
The problem is whether somebody is willing to participate in their own thinking.
That's the real danger.
I'm less worried about AI making intelligent, curious people lazy.
I'm more worried about people who already don't want to read, don't want to investigate, don't want to verify and don't want to think using AI as one more excuse not to.
We already live in a culture where somebody sees a meme and acts like they read a congressional report.
They saw one screenshot.
One headline.
One picture.
One fifteen-second clip.
Done.
Worldview updated.
Then came TL;DR.
Think about what that phrase actually admits.
Somebody gives you five paragraphs explaining a complicated problem and your response is:
“Too long.”
Fine.
Some things can be summarized.
Some things cannot.
If you want to understand engineering, law, medicine, economics, software architecture, artificial intelligence, business systems or any other complicated field, eventually you're going to have to tolerate more than a meme.
We even recognize that problem on our own websites.
Epic App Solutions is complicated.
That's intentional.
We're not selling one little widget to one perfectly defined customer.
We solve cases.
Software.
Infrastructure.
Automation.
AI.
Search.
Operations.
Problems that don't always fit neatly into somebody else's dropdown menu.
If you arrive without a purpose, a problem, a project or a dream, you may look around and say:
That's okay.
We're not for everybody.
We completely accept that.
We don't need everybody.
This is another thing people misunderstand about technical firms.
Not every company wants mass-market attention.
Our work travels.
Somebody sees a warehouse running differently.
They ask why.
Somebody sees software doing something unusual.
They ask who built it.
Somebody sees a system saving time, reducing labor or doing something competitors can't do.
They ask where it came from.
And the answer gets passed along.
That doesn't mean we take every project.
Money alone doesn't make something interesting.
A large check doesn't automatically buy access.
Sometimes the right answer is simply:
No.
We don't want the project.
We don't want the relationship.
We don't want to spend six months building something we don't give a damn about.
So will AI make people lazy?
Some people?
Absolutely.
Calculators made some people stop doing arithmetic by hand.
GPS made some people worse at navigation.
Search engines made some people stop memorizing facts.
Every tool changes which skills we practice.
That's real.
But that's not the whole story.
Calculators also helped engineers calculate faster.
GPS helped businesses route fleets.
Search engines gave ordinary people access to information that once required a library.
And AI can give a skilled person access to an extraordinary amount of leverage.
AI Is Useful When You Still Do These Things
- Think before you ask.
- Understand the problem.
- Recognize when the answer is wrong.
- Challenge assumptions.
- Verify important claims.
- Test the work.
- Correct mistakes.
- Understand the tradeoffs.
- Make the final decision yourself.
The future finally showed up.
That's where I keep landing.
As a kid, I watched science fiction and imagined computers you could talk to.
Machines that understood context.
Systems that helped humans solve problems instead of just waiting for exact commands.
We imagined that world.
Then 1999 arrived and our computers were mostly beige boxes screaming through dial-up modems.
We got there eventually.
Roughly a quarter century later, the interface we imagined is becoming real.
And now that it's here, I'm not interested in spending my time being terrified of it.
I'm interested in learning it.
Testing it.
Breaking it.
Correcting it.
Building with it.
And seeing how much farther a human being can go when some of the mechanical friction disappears.
AI didn't replace my brain.
It gave my brain more room.
It gave me time back.
It let me move.
It let me talk through ideas.
It shortened projects.
It increased production.
It gave an engineer a tool that would have looked like science fiction when I was a kid.
Could somebody use the exact same technology to become lazier?
Sure.
You can use a library as a place to sleep too.
That doesn't make books the problem.
And if this is only the beginning?
Buckle the fuck up.