The Distorted Echo: Why AI Isn't the Problem, We Are

Why AI Isn't the Problem, We Are

— Chelsea ♥
A close-up, atmospheric shot of a Black woman’s hand sketching a portrait in a notebook on a wooden desk at night. A vintage film camera, a smartphone, and a warm desk lamp sit nearby. Above the notebook, a glowing, translucent blue hologram depicts a multi-layered, surreal face of a Black person, interwoven with floating lines of digital code and script, symbolizing the "distorted echo" of AI. In the background, an old-school computer monitor displays lines of code in a dimly lit room.
AI Generated Image

AI was never meant to take over the creative processes that keep people happy. So many people think that in order to get through and have success, you need to fully embrace AI or you’ll get left behind. As an artist, a techy, and a self-proclaimed pseudo-intellectual with quasi-knowledge of any given topic, I can promise you: you don’t need to embrace everything the tech world puts out.

You’ve probably heard the phrase, "people pay more for the real thing." This isn't just about buying into a brand; this is about the human perception of authenticity. Authenticity in content creation is crucial, as it fosters a genuine connection between the creator and the audience. When content is spontaneous, it significantly enhances reader engagement, making the experience more relatable and enjoyable.

Have you ever tried to convince someone that gold-plated stainless steel is somehow better than real gold? That conversation never goes well. That’s because you’re asking people to embrace something that isn't authentic, trying to convince them that it’s "close enough." Humans crave the authentic, lived experience—which is also why you’ll find behind-the-scenes videos so popular. The "Influencer Era" is dying, and people are fighting to see the original talent that once brought them to you.

We can make AI-generated content look shiny and "close enough" all damn day, but the moment your audience realizes it lacks a pulse, the value drops. Here is a very real psychological truth: humans value scarcity, and "lived experience" is the one thing AI cannot mass-produce.

There’s a great piece in Psychology Today titled “AI Isn’t the Problem, We Are,” which argues that AI mirrors the biases and values we feed it. My perspective intersects with that — but I want to go a step further: what AI can’t reproduce is the unpredictable, spontaneous heartbeat of real human experience.

The Fear of the Mundane

Humans have a real fear that we need to address: the fear of being replaced versus the reality of being bored. I don’t think people are actually afraid of being replaced by AI; I think we’re afraid of the bone-deep boredom that comes with the mundane.

Riddle me this: I can create photos and videos, but I have no camera lens. I can think, but I require an idea. What am I? The answer is AI and if you could not tell— that should make you uncomfortable.

The "Influencer Era" was already starting to feel like AI-generated content before AI was even popular. Everyone used the same presets, the same scripts, and the same "authentic" poses. I argue that the way to beat the machine isn't to work harder; it's to be more "unscripted."

The Magic of Spontaneity

There is a specific kind of power in the unscripted. When you tap into the unpredictable nature of being human—the off-the-cuff remark or the surprise turn—you capture a pulse that mere "content" lacks. People love the thrill of the unexpected; it pulls them out of the scroll and makes them feel like they are part of an actual journey, not just consuming a feed. 

So, how do you invite your audience to see you as more than a post when everything you do is created "for content's sake?" How do you battle the constant urge to rely on AI to help you "create?" Those are the questions you should be asking.

Captured, Not Curated

When I was deep into my photography era, I used an app called Unscripted (don’t worry, I’m not selling you the app). What made it so cool was that you didn't need a set "shoot list." Sure, you could curate a list to send to your client, but that takes the fun out of being a photographer. This is also why I do photography as my passion and not as my primary business—I want to capture the human experience as it is, not as it’s curated to be. Social media and content creation, for me, are no different.

Now, I know I’ve said I pre-schedule my social media posts, and I do. I don’t care about trends, and I don’t want to spend my life doom-scrolling through constant political posts and community divides. I think Switchfoot said it best: "We were meant to live for so much more; have we lost ourselves?" At times, it can feel like the only certainties are death and taxes.

A Mirror of Our Own Making

I actually feel bad for AI. So many people hate it for existing when, just like us, it did not ask to be created. And just as we can’t seem to get it right when it comes to human beings, what made us think we could get AI right?

Ask yourself: what is the purpose of AI? Not the comments you’ve heard regurgitated over and over—what is its true core function? We created dolls and decided it wasn't enough, so we created electronic dolls. Just about every horror movie features a hyper-intelligent computer life form that looks like a human (Terminator, anyone?). So I’ll ask again: what is the purpose of AI?

I think it’s to fill a void. At our core, humans crave human-like connections. This explains why even when I ask ChatGPT for a technical answer, it gives me wit, jokes, and emojis. Even after I’ve stated, "Be matter-of-fact and avoid colloquialisms," it still does it.

Think about how AI was created. We fed it every book, tweet, and blog post ever written—all of which are dripping with human desperation for connection. We aren’t talking to a computer; we’re talking to a distorted echo of every human who ever wanted to be heard. We built a machine to mimic us because we’re lonely, not because we’re efficient.

The Verdict

Listen, I can’t tell you how to live. I can’t tell you whether to use AI or not. Frankly, I think humans are more of the problem than AI because we never solved our own issues. If you want to be a writer—learn to write. If you want to be a web developer—learn to code. AI is a tool, but it can’t replace or fill the void created by a lack of competency.

I started this post thinking I would write about AI, but as I’ve reached the end, I realize it isn’t about tech at all. It’s about competency, loneliness, authenticity, and boredom disguised as innovation.

AI was never the problem. We were.


Further Reading: Check out Faisal Hoque’s insightful piece, “AI Isn’t the Problem, We Are,” over at Psychology Today.

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