Catching Up With AI. Again.

I’ve spent the last two months trying to catch up with AI.

Again.

The funny thing about AI is that the moment you think you’ve caught up, you’re behind.

A year ago, I paid for ChatGPT. A few months later, we were building AI workflows inside SushiVid. A few months after that, I felt completely lost again.

So in May, I flew to Shanghai for ClawCon. I spent the week listening, learning, asking questions, and trying to understand where all of this is going.

And funny enough — who knew I’d spend the next two months staring at terminal screens?

Black screen. Typewriter font. Cursor blinking. Trying to figure out why something isn’t working.

It felt strangely familiar.

I was trying the hard thing. Building OpenClaw on my laptop. Connecting it to an AI model. Teaching it to talk to me on Telegram.

Half the time it broke. Half the time I broke it.

Then last week, I took the leap: I moved everything off my laptop, onto a server in the cloud.

Game changer.

Now my agent runs around the clock. It sends me updates without me ever thinking about my CPU. These days I do most of my work through Claude Code — and the funny thing is, I barely see the terminal anymore.

Two months ago I was fighting it. Today it’s just quietly working, somewhere in a cloud.

That’s how fast this moves.

And honestly? The thing that scares me most about AI isn’t what it will do to my business.

It’s what it will do to the next generation.

When ChatGPT first came out, everyone was asking: “How do I use AI?”

My question was different.

If everyone can create content, what happens to creators? If everyone can write, what happens to writers? If everyone can code, what happens to developers?

And most importantly: what happens to my niece? What happens to a generation entering the workforce when the rules are changing faster than anyone can keep up?

At the same time, I can’t deny the reality. AI has fundamentally changed how we operate. Entire workflows that used to require repetitive human effort are now automated.

Campaign reminders. Draft checking. Report writing. Information retrieval.

The funny thing is, I don’t miss those tasks. They were repetitive. They had high turnover. Nobody really enjoyed doing them.

Today, the people on my team spend more time doing things AI still struggles with.

Building relationships. Managing clients. Running livestreams. Making judgment calls. Handling crises.

The work has become more human, not less.

And that’s the paradox I’m struggling with. AI is simultaneously the most exciting and the most unsettling technology I’ve seen in my lifetime.

It has helped us become faster. Leaner. More resilient.

And yet, I find myself asking bigger questions.

Every day, people tell AI things they wouldn’t tell their spouse. Their fears. Their health concerns. Their business plans. Their deepest questions.

We’re feeding these systems an unprecedented amount of information about ourselves. And I don’t think we’ve fully understood what that means yet.

Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to AI. Not because I’m trying to become an AI expert. But because I’m trying to understand what kind of world we’re building.

I used to think the biggest AI question was: “How do I use it?”

Today, I think the bigger question is: “What kind of humans will we become because of it?”

I don’t know the answer.

I’m still trying to figure that out.