Salman Ansari

I relate to this energy of audience, I used to get it from teaching, and now in a remote world I feel the deep lack of such energy infusion in my life. The days feel more empty and dull, more of a drag.

The reward of that one hour on stage is the highest potency nutrients that you could possibly imagine when it’s good, so you keep going back out because you want to get that. It’s not about adulation. It’s really not. It’s the exchange between yourself and the audience. So, I don’t know how to manage those things, those needs with the practicalities, the desire not to take more than I give. It’s tricky.

When it comes to creativity, optimize for freedom

I have been stuck. Every time I sit down to write a blog post, code a feature, or start a project, I come to the same realization: in the context of AI, what I’m doing is a waste of time. It’s horrifying. The fun has been sucked out of the process of creation because nothing I make organically can compete with what AI already produces—or soon will. All of my original thoughts feel like early drafts of better, more complete thoughts that simply haven’t yet formed inside an LLM.

I empathize with the author. But it also reinforces a feeling I’ve had lately: One must live in order to write, to have something to say. If you are going out into the world, changing things, changing yourself, then ideas come to you and you can channel them. But the channeling and expression in digital essay writing shouldn’t be the majority, it should be just one piece of a big puzzle.

If writing and thinking about writing is your life, then yes, AI can replace it. But you can become “unLLMable” by having a rich life that you want to live. Out in the real world. Let AI accelerate the expression a bit, if you want. Or don’t. But protect, foster and grow the most important part: human experience.

Quoted this in my piece on the value of routine: Rewards of Routine