I'm writing to think, learn, and remember in public. I'll be here everyday.
Time passes differently for me than it does for you.
Physics says so.
It also passes differently for you now than it did when you were younger. Time speeds up as we get older. The seasons come quicker. The vacations are shorter. The numbers go up faster.
The future becomes the near future, or even now. What was possibility becomes reality or never gonna happen. What might be either is or never will be.
The time is yours. What will you do with it?
“Wall Street banks are pushing large law firms to cut fees, arguing that the business model that has enriched top lawyers for decades is not sustainable in an era of AI.”
From Marginal Revolution
Even though this makes complete sense, it’s hard to see how this will play out. Big firms are really good at making money and, even more so, protecting that revenue stream.
Yes, AI should knock down the costs. But will it?
Big heads are hard to cut off.
“Don’t build a space shuttle to drive down the street to the grocery store.”
AI does the research. It creates the documents. It writes the code. It tests the code.
You’re the overseer with a million ideas. You think they’re good ideas.
We’ve always had to worry about building something too complex, too featureful, and too hyperbolic for the set of requirements. That’s part of the product and engineering tradeoff. And the friction of building has helped keep this problem in check.
Space shuttles, for all of their awesomeness, are terrible grocery-getters.
Requirements still matter. Even if building it is frictionless.
Remember the annoyance of spam emails? Ah, the good ole days.
Now it’s…
“Hey, remember me? Wanna have dinner again?”
And
“Hello, I’m Jane, your loan officer. You’ve been approved for…”
I’m getting about 15 of these a day in various forms into my text and voicemail. I’m sure you are as well.
Computers made spam almost frictionless and costless, but at least someone had to sit in a chair and do something. AI breaks those chains. A prompt plus a few tokens, and you have an autonomous spamming army.
Thanks, AI.
We’re gonna need some friction.
If you’re stuck and nothing’s coming out.
No big ideas. No curiosity. Nothing you’re working out.
Maybe it’s because nothing interesting is going in.
Keep the inflow interesting and plentiful.
Theoretical means what we expect based on how we think it works. We’ve done analysis and math, and drawn these conclusions through reasoning.
Empirical means what we expect based on what we’ve seen in the real world. We’ve watched and measured, and we’ve drawn these conclusions through observation.
For thousands of years, humans worked in both worlds. Sometimes with tension (like in the Physics world) and friendly one-upmanship about which is more important. Both approaches require creativity and a solid knowledge base about the topic.
Now we can add AI in.
For theory, AI helps because it can find patterns that we can’t or haven’t yet and it’s really good at using tools that we’ve provided for it.
For empiricism, AI helps because it can run bajillions of tests and iterations, and it’s really good with massive data sets.
In both, it can connect the dots across its eidetic, almost infinite memory.
But it can’t create. Not the way we do.
Generative is not the same as creative. AI looks creative, but its still just statistical.
Whether we’re talking about theoretical or empirical, AI helps move everything forward, but we, the humans, are still the secret sauce.
AI is already running a lot of HR departments.
HR departments use AI helpers for the following areas:
Some of the reported benefits:
That’s good, right?
AI helps all of us knowledge workers. You should be using it (correctly).
HR has “human” in its name. Humans work. Humans lead. Humans decide.
Let’s be sure to keep the humans at the center of the HR department.
Whether ChatGPT, Claude, or whatever AI-assistant you maybe using, do you think of it as an actual person in your computer?
I do. Sort of.
Clearly, there is no little man in my machine. I know this both intellectually and emotionally. However, it helps me to think as if there is.
It helps me in two ways:
The guy in my computer is a mental model. Not a real one.
Maybe it’s creepy. Maybe it’s childish. But it certainly helps me.
Do you make your own butter?
Of course not. Or, not likely, at least.
Why would you? It takes about 20 minutes of vigorous physical activity. You need heavy cream, and the quality of that cream matters a lot for the final product. Sometimes, it doesn’t actually work. You get to the 15 or 20-minute mark and find it was all for nothing. Gotta start again with new ingredients.
And if it works, does it taste better? Or does it taste better enough that the whole thing was worth it? Was it cheaper? What was the actual advantage?
If you’re at the grocery store (or convenience store, or even many gas stations), you can simply walk to the dairy aisle, and for a few dollars, you can choose any style of butter your heart fancies: salted, no salt, Irish, European, Amish, cheap, less cheap.
Quick, easy, cheap, and you get exactly what you want.
Why would you make your own butter?
Because life requires participation. More participation, more better (and in this case, more butter).
Sometimes you should make your own butter.
We scoff at obvious clickbait. We’re above it. We’re not susceptible.
Each of us is susceptible. To something.
That’s the real clickbait.
