We live in a strange and overwhelming time.
Information is everywhere. Content floods every feed. AI is becoming ubiquitous—ready to answer our questions, draft our content, mimic our voices, and even shape what we see. As writers, teachers, artists, and thinkers, we’re not just adjusting to this new landscape—we’re swimming upstream through it, trying to make something that still matters.
The question isn’t just whether AI will replace us.
The real question is whether we’ll forget how to matter in the first place.
🔍 From Search to Surrender
It used to be that when we were curious, we searched. We wandered. We clicked link after link, read contrasting opinions, weighed nuance, lost time in deep dives and rabbit holes.
Now we ask an AI, and it gives us one clean answer.
No visible trail. No sense of what got left out. No encouragement to explore further unless you already know how to ask.
It feels efficient. But it removes the most human part of thinking:
the part where we wonder.
We don’t just lose detail—we lose agency. And over time, we risk forgetting that understanding is a process, not a product.
🧠 Research and Creation Are the Same Thing
Here’s the part I’ll admit:
As a kid, when I was stuck inside while the others played, I’d sometimes read the encyclopedia for fun. I wasn’t trying to be smart. I was bored. But what I found in those pages wasn’t just information—it was possibility. It was a web of connections, a thousand paths waiting to be followed.
That instinct still fuels me now. Whether I’m writing, teaching, or just thinking my way through the world, I know this:
Research and creation are not separate acts. They are the same motion—one hand feeding the other.
To create well, you must learn deeply.
To learn deeply, you must have the impulse to shape what you find into something new.
This is the kind of thinking we need AI to support—not just answers, but ignite points. Not just efficiency, but discovery.
🤖 What AI Could Be
AI has the potential to be more than a shortcut. It could be a thinking companion, a curator of the unexplored, a champion of nuance and forgotten voices.
But we need to build it that way. And use it that way.
Imagine an AI search tool that doesn’t just provide the “best” answer, but shows you layers:
- Opposing viewpoints
- Forgotten sources
- Indie creators you’ve never heard of
- Deep cuts alongside top hits
- A slider between academic and casual, recent and historic, safe and strange
That’s not science fiction. That’s a design decision.
But it requires us—users, writers, educators—to demand depth over convenience.
Because right now, we’re building AI to give the simplest answer.
When what we really need is the richest context.
🎓 The Future of Learning
I used to be a teacher. One of the only assessments I ever trusted was the MAP test—an adaptive tool that gauged where students actually were, then met them there and pushed them just a little further.
Now imagine pairing that kind of adaptive feedback with an AI that:
- Tracks a student’s understanding over time
- Adjusts in real time based on how they learn
- Offers challenges, feedback, and ideas personalized to their pace and curiosity
- Works with a human teacher who is free to mentor, encourage, and dig deeper
That’s not replacing education.
That’s amplifying humanity in the classroom.
We don’t need AI to automate school. We need it to reawaken learning.
📚 The Flooded Marketplace
But then we leave the classroom—and enter the marketplace.
And that’s where things get messier.
As a writer, I’ve seen both sides of the flood:
- The beautiful democracy of self-publishing and indie creativity
- And the soul-sucking chaos of endless content promotion, algorithm games, and platform fatigue
I wrote recently:
“There is something both selfish and egotistical in the nature of being an author. You often not only crave to create—you crave attention for your creation. I want people to read my works, but I also don’t want to become an advertising content creator more than I create meaningful content.”
I meant that.
Because there’s a weariness that sets in when you realize:
Publishing now is both shouting into the wind and screaming through a spigot.
There’s so much content being created every day, and only the most polished, promoted, or algorithmically boosted content gets seen.
✍️ Ego, Exhaustion, and the Game of Visibility
It’s hard not to judge.
People post the same blurb to 20 Facebook groups.
They make fan accounts for their own work.
They ask basic questions without doing the work—and get attention anyway.
But I remind myself: we all start somewhere.
And we’re all playing a rigged game.
“I don’t hate the player—I hate the game,” I wrote.
Because that’s the truth: it takes drive to do any of this.
To write something in a sea of noise. To believe it matters. To keep going.
Even when you’re unsure if anyone is listening.
Still, I dream of something better.
I imagine a world where:
- AI is used to help curate overlooked gems
- Where Amazon and Spotify and Goodreads surface not just bestsellers, but quality
- Where creators can opt in to having their work scanned, critiqued, and surfaced based on voice, originality, and depth—not just sales or SEO tricks
It’s possible. But it would require letting go of control.
And trusting AI to act in service of discovery, not just conversion.
💡 Final Thought: The Future We Deserve
We don’t need to be afraid of AI.
We should be afraid of not using it well.
The future isn’t about machines replacing us.
It’s about remembering how to learn, create, and connect with intention.
It’s about raising kids who can ask better questions, not just get better answers.
It’s about building systems that reward depth, not just speed.
And it’s about remembering that the point isn’t to be seen—it’s to be true.
So yes, I still read the encyclopedia sometimes.
And yes, I still write into the void.
Because I believe that creation still matters.
And if AI can help us find meaning in the noise—
then maybe, just maybe, we’ll remember that the future isn’t about consuming more.
It’s about choosing to create better.

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