On Tuesday morning while running down the path by Fort Mason, I noticed an unusually large number of scooters parked near the stone entrance gate. The parking lot was full too. Overhead, planes circled – their advertising banners trailing in the clear blue sky. After my run, I googled “conference San Francisco today.” There are several interrelated ones – most notably OpenAI’s DevDay. Uggh.
I can think of few things in my lifetime (aside from maybe the early days of the internet or Facebook) that has gripped our collective consciousness/attention as much as AI has (and no, I won’t be calling it that dumb thing that Tr*mp has “renamed” it). If I had to guess, I see or hear the term/phrase “AI” dozens, if not hundreds, of times per day. In San Francisco, it’s inescapable. Our buses, bus stops, and billboards are all AI ads all the time. The news and social media landscapes are full of stories, anecdotes, warnings, complaints, and praise of, for, and about AI. I suppose the word I’m looking for is ubiquitous. I wish it were less so. God, I wish it were less so.
Of course, this genie won’t be going back into the bottle. As such, I spend time, nearly every day, wondering (or worrying) about where and how AI is going to impact my life. If I had to guess, AI will continue to be forced into more and more pieces of our everyday lives to the point that we stop noticing it. This is already happening with Google’s AI summaries, but it’s happening in lots of other ways too: integrating our apps and coordinating our schedules. As part of their DevDay, OpenAI announced the release of Dots, a personalized AI agent that OpenAI describes as:
“Dots are remarkably capable, always-on agents built to handle everything. They’re a whole new way to work with AI—one that gets to know what matters to you, is always working on your behalf, and takes important work off your plate so you get more of your time and attention back.”
and:
“Your dot is always within reach, whether it is through ChatGPT, Slack, or Teams. You can ask questions, explore ideas, and give feedback along the way; or you can simply hop on a voice call when you need to talk something out. The more you work together, the more your dot learns your preferences, how you think, and what good looks like to you.”
AI, as Cory Doctorow frequently points out, is little more than a word guessing machine. It uses statistical analysis to predict what’s coming next. That last sentence in their pitch for Dots says it all: “the more you work together, the more your dot learns your preferences, how you think…” Errmm, I think I’ll pass and just do my thinking, and everything else, the old-fashioned way.
One reason AI can be good at things like “learning how you think,” is because it also shapes how you think. If I want to buy a book, Amazon does two different things (or at least it used to – their results seem littered with knock-off slop these days). The algorithm not only looks at my purchase history to predict what I might like, but it also limits what I see in the results – which, in turn, narrows my purchase options and increases the likelihood that it’s predictions will be correct. An AI that’s “learning how you think,” is most likely an AI that’s limiting (or training) how you think.
None of this is magic. But the AI companies want us to believe in the “sentient” nature and learning capabilities of AI. They’re desperate for mass adoption so that they can justify their astronomical expenses. It’s why they use phrases like “the more you work together” because they want us to think of AI as a more efficient, more in-sync co-worker than the one in the cubicle that AI just replaced – and besides, your AI agent won’t nuke fish for lunch in the microwave.
My worry, and one of the most personally limiting factors in my late-stage “career trajectory,” is that I don’t want to use AI, I don’t really know how to use AI (though I can’t imagine it’s terribly difficult), and I’m assuming that most leadership roles (Executive Director level positions at nonprofits) will not only require AI experience, but will want a leader with the understanding and ability to set AI usage policies and plans. As such, I feel limited to jobs with organizations that are too small to make effective use of AI (or jobs that don’t use computers). While I have yet to see it creep in to job descriptions, I suspect it’s only a matter of time.
I also worry about how AI is going to impact my personal relationships. I have moments when I’ll envision some future relationship, one in which I might be growing to like someone, and then I’ll learn that they’re an avid AI user. Would that be a deal breaker? Maybe not, but I’m pretty sure being an evangelist for / supporter of / consumer of AI generated music, art, or literature would be. As it is, I cringe when I see my friends in the group chat posting AI generated memes and pictures. Is this just another one of those areas in public life from which I increasingly isolate myself (I’ve already become pretty isolated in my knowledge/consumption of sports, television, celebrity gossip, and movies).
In this ongoing deluge, I have days when I think maybe I should relent. Maybe I should let the AI tide sweep me away or dash me against the rocks. Maybe I should give it a try. Maybe I’m missing the gravy train (though joining now, I would hardly be considered an early adopter and I might not get up to speed). All of this feels very much like the wild west and the gold rush and that I’ve missed my chance at getting rich or that I’m betting on the wrong horse. While everyone else is optimizing their lives with AI assistants, I’m regressing and intentionally taking more time to do things. It feels like I’m performing long division by hand because I have a thing against calculators. What if I could use AI to get myself off the treadmill of capitalism? Would the ends justify the means?
My secret, selfish, and dark hope is that AI rots everyone’s brains and as one of the few holdouts unsullied by its corrosive effects, I’ll be the sought after one: for wisdom, or know-how, or critical thinking, or writing. The more likely scenario is that I’ll be the anachronism, the slow one trying to cross the street while everyone’s self-driving car swerves to avoid me. Ok, old man, let’s get you a beer and some mashed peas, let’s put you to bed early, and yes you can tell us one of those “in my day stories” about the time before AI.