What comes to mind is that old story of two guys in the wilderness, encounter a bear. One stops to tie his shoelaces. Why? Because he just has to out-run his companion. Technology helps you run faster. Until – you stop, and do something different.
And I agree. AI is actually pretty great as a thinking partner. I use it the same way. I feel it comes down to how we use AI. We can speed things up or slow things down. But we have to be intentional about it.
That's the contrast. Efficiency belongs to machines. Meaning and identity are for humans to discover. And they only emerge when we exercise judgment and choice.
Your writing is getting better and better! I was effectively hooked from the start.
You touched something I didn't know to name before, which is how the way we talk about work (and how employers talk about it) is full of marketing language. It sounds virtuous and appealing, but it’s often a wrapper around something draining and hollow.
You’re also so right about the value of the slower process. That’s where judgment, questioning, assessing and reassessing happen. The real challenge, I guess, is learning where to let tools speed us up, and where to deliberately leave space for human thinking.
And that tension isn’t new to AI either. Even without this, it's easy to lose ourselves in the speed of life: full calendars, full days, months, and years blurring, with no room for deeper work or deeper awareness.
Your piece also reminded me of something I’ve been circling in my own writing about beautiful surfaces hiding empty depths. Efficiency and polish get attention at first, but in the long run, it’s the depth underneath that makes the whole beautiful through and through.
I especially like how you put it: "marketing language as a wrapper around something draining and hollow." That's exactly the pattern I wanted to name. But I didn't want to moralize it.
And yes! That tension isn't something new at all. AI just makes it impossible to ignore. It forces us to decide what kind of work (and life) we actually want to stand behind.
Speed has always been seductive. The hard part was, and still is, deciding where to allow speed, and where to deliberately slow things down to make space for thinking, depth and judgment.
“Beautiful surfaces hiding empty depths” — I love this phrase. It names a feeling that most of us sense long before we could articulate it.
Thank you again for sharing such a thoughtful comment.
This phrase: "AI just makes it impossible to ignore."
I think people feel that in their bodies. I don't know about you, but to me, it's overwhelming to just imagine the speed with which AI can execute tasks. It creates a sharp contrast with the pace at which we can actually process, feel, and think for ourselves versus the pace the tools can run at.
That contrast almost amplifies what happens when we speed up too much. It makes the cost of going past our natural tempo more obvious.
We had already adapted to a faster pace even before AI. Now this extra layer of acceleration is so overwhelming that it almost forces us to slow down because and sense what a good-feeling speed actually is for us, so we have this felt anchor we can keep returning to when everything else is trying to accelerate us.
The contrast: "the pace at which we can actually process, feel, and think for ourselves versus the pace the tools can run at" — that to me feels like the key. When those two drift too far apart, something inside us rebel. And it shows up as overwhelm before we can even articulate why.
And I like how you put it: "felt anchor we can keep returning to." That is the real work. Not rejecting speed. But developing sensitivity to know when we are moving too fast, and giving ourselves permission to slow down before we hollow out.
I feel AI just make that misalignment with our own rhythm impossible to ignore.
It’s often the experience of going too far out of center that gives us a felt sense of where center is. Burning out, over-exercising, overstuffing our living space, bellies, days... all of that stretches us so far that we can suddenly feel the edge of what feels good for us.
Once we’ve hit that edge, we become more sensitive. We can notice much earlier when we’re starting to drift away from that inner balance, and respond before we're too far. So whatever presents an extreme that throws us out of balance actually trains our ability to live in a more sustainable middle, instead of getting carried away until it’s “too much.”
Indeed. I like how you framed it as "going too far out of center" that teaches us where the center is. Without crossing the edge, the center stays kind of abstract. Our body does need contrast to learn where its own limits are.
The idea that "sensitivity comes after excess" feels crucial. Like a discernment you earn. Once you have felt "too much" in your body (or your life), you don't need to set the rules. You kind of feel the deviation as soon as it's there.
So, going over the extermes could be formative in a way. Honing our capacity to notice and adjust. And to return to a more alive and trusting self.
What comes to mind is that old story of two guys in the wilderness, encounter a bear. One stops to tie his shoelaces. Why? Because he just has to out-run his companion. Technology helps you run faster. Until – you stop, and do something different.
Great metaphor. I like that story.
What's intriguing in this metaphor is: what if the runners never realize that the bear is not chasing them anymore?
Great reminder to think things through and take your time—and not feel bad for doing that. “The pipe is also hollow.” lol. That analogy.
I do a lot of my thinking as a conversation with AI. My workflow has improved. But I’m still tinkering with it…
Haha! Glad that analogy landed.
And I agree. AI is actually pretty great as a thinking partner. I use it the same way. I feel it comes down to how we use AI. We can speed things up or slow things down. But we have to be intentional about it.
nice& thoughtful points.
machine efficiency vs building the thoughtful brain human muscle to find ones meaningful identity.
Thank you. I like how you framed it as a muscle.
That's the contrast. Efficiency belongs to machines. Meaning and identity are for humans to discover. And they only emerge when we exercise judgment and choice.
Your writing is getting better and better! I was effectively hooked from the start.
You touched something I didn't know to name before, which is how the way we talk about work (and how employers talk about it) is full of marketing language. It sounds virtuous and appealing, but it’s often a wrapper around something draining and hollow.
You’re also so right about the value of the slower process. That’s where judgment, questioning, assessing and reassessing happen. The real challenge, I guess, is learning where to let tools speed us up, and where to deliberately leave space for human thinking.
And that tension isn’t new to AI either. Even without this, it's easy to lose ourselves in the speed of life: full calendars, full days, months, and years blurring, with no room for deeper work or deeper awareness.
Your piece also reminded me of something I’ve been circling in my own writing about beautiful surfaces hiding empty depths. Efficiency and polish get attention at first, but in the long run, it’s the depth underneath that makes the whole beautiful through and through.
Thank you, Klara! This means a lot.
I especially like how you put it: "marketing language as a wrapper around something draining and hollow." That's exactly the pattern I wanted to name. But I didn't want to moralize it.
And yes! That tension isn't something new at all. AI just makes it impossible to ignore. It forces us to decide what kind of work (and life) we actually want to stand behind.
Speed has always been seductive. The hard part was, and still is, deciding where to allow speed, and where to deliberately slow things down to make space for thinking, depth and judgment.
“Beautiful surfaces hiding empty depths” — I love this phrase. It names a feeling that most of us sense long before we could articulate it.
Thank you again for sharing such a thoughtful comment.
This phrase: "AI just makes it impossible to ignore."
I think people feel that in their bodies. I don't know about you, but to me, it's overwhelming to just imagine the speed with which AI can execute tasks. It creates a sharp contrast with the pace at which we can actually process, feel, and think for ourselves versus the pace the tools can run at.
That contrast almost amplifies what happens when we speed up too much. It makes the cost of going past our natural tempo more obvious.
We had already adapted to a faster pace even before AI. Now this extra layer of acceleration is so overwhelming that it almost forces us to slow down because and sense what a good-feeling speed actually is for us, so we have this felt anchor we can keep returning to when everything else is trying to accelerate us.
Love how you brought this back to the body!
The contrast: "the pace at which we can actually process, feel, and think for ourselves versus the pace the tools can run at" — that to me feels like the key. When those two drift too far apart, something inside us rebel. And it shows up as overwhelm before we can even articulate why.
And I like how you put it: "felt anchor we can keep returning to." That is the real work. Not rejecting speed. But developing sensitivity to know when we are moving too fast, and giving ourselves permission to slow down before we hollow out.
I feel AI just make that misalignment with our own rhythm impossible to ignore.
It’s often the experience of going too far out of center that gives us a felt sense of where center is. Burning out, over-exercising, overstuffing our living space, bellies, days... all of that stretches us so far that we can suddenly feel the edge of what feels good for us.
Once we’ve hit that edge, we become more sensitive. We can notice much earlier when we’re starting to drift away from that inner balance, and respond before we're too far. So whatever presents an extreme that throws us out of balance actually trains our ability to live in a more sustainable middle, instead of getting carried away until it’s “too much.”
Indeed. I like how you framed it as "going too far out of center" that teaches us where the center is. Without crossing the edge, the center stays kind of abstract. Our body does need contrast to learn where its own limits are.
The idea that "sensitivity comes after excess" feels crucial. Like a discernment you earn. Once you have felt "too much" in your body (or your life), you don't need to set the rules. You kind of feel the deviation as soon as it's there.
So, going over the extermes could be formative in a way. Honing our capacity to notice and adjust. And to return to a more alive and trusting self.