Power without the capacity to hold it.

In that metaphor, the amoeba consumes rather than creates because it cannot direct what it has received. For me, this captures AI’s deeper tension. Our productive power is growing faster than our capacity to use it intentionally.

Today’s technology doesn’t look like traditional cyberpunk. It comes wrapped in chatbox apps, subscriptions, productivity tools, and friendly interfaces. Yet beneath that clean surface, people around me are anxious about what skills still matter, what gives life meaning, and whether greater productivity will actually improve ordinary lives.

Companies seem caught in an arms race, afraid to fall behind even when the destination is unclear.

When making becomes filtering

That mismatch becomes tangible in creative work. AI lets us generate text and images at a speed that used to be impossible. But sometimes using it doesn’t feel like becoming more creative. It feels like being overloaded.

Too much information, too many options, too many references, too many things to evaluate. Instead of building something step by step, I become someone who comments, filters, edits, and digests what the machine produces. I don’t always get the pleasure of actually making something. My brain can feel fried.

More output does not necessarily mean more creative agency.

A possible standard for helpful AI is therefore whether it supports intentional creation—not merely faster generation.