The debate about Generative AI often collapses into a
single, deceptively simple question:
Is it a tool or
not?
On one side, you have the pragmatists saying, “Relax. It’s
just another technology. Like a word processor. Like a calculator.”
On the other side, you have people who feel something
visceral rise up in their bodies when they hear that comparison ... and want to
throw the whole framing out the window.
I find myself somewhere in the middle, which is usually
another way of saying: “This is messier than either side wants to admit.”
Why the “It’s Just a Tool” Argument Feels Incomplete
In traditional software, there’s a stable relationship
between input and output.
If I enter numbers into a spreadsheet formula, I know
exactly what result I’ll get. With Generative AI, the equivalent action is a
prompt … and prompts don’t behave like formulas. They’re interpretive. They’re
relational. They can be crafted well or poorly, consciously or unconsciously.
And the output can range from genuinely helpful to deeply off, or worse, convincingly
wrong.
That alone introduces a different dynamic. But it goes
deeper.
Before AI, computers mostly served us expected outcomes.
They did what we told them to do, and when they didn’t, it was clearly an error.
Generative AI doesn’t crash in the same way. It keeps
going. It fills the silence. It offers something … sometimes brilliant,
sometimes slop, but always with a tone that suggests confidence.
That’s where the nervous system starts asking a quiet but
important question: “Who’s actually in charge here?”
This is why equating GenAI with traditional tools feels
experientially thin. It ignores the fact that AI doesn’t just speed up
productivity, it shifts meaning, authorship, and judgment in ways we’re still
metabolizing.
The Stronger Objection: It’s Not Helping You Work; It’s
Working For You
There’s a sharper critique that goes something like this: Tools
help you do the work. Generative AI does the work instead.
When a craftsperson builds a desk,
the screwdriver doesn’t decide how the joints fit.
When a writer types an essay, the
word processor doesn’t generate the paragraphs.
When a musician composes, the piano keys don’t move without finger contact.
In all of those cases, the human remains the locus of care,
specificity, and intention.
Generative AI breaks that pattern.
It doesn’t wait for your thought, it
anticipates.
It doesn’t amplify your voice, it
drafts one for you.
It doesn’t assist creativity, it
substitutes a generic version of it.
From this angle, calling GenAI a tool isn’t just inaccurate. It’s mistaking delegation for assistance, replacement for
support.
And honestly? There’s truth there.
Where I Land (For Now)
I’m not against AI. I’m also not pretending it’s neutral.
My adoption discomfort isn’t rooted in being a Luddite. It’s
rooted in recognizing that this technology introduces a different power
dynamic … one that touches authorship, meaning, and agency in ways
screwdrivers and spellcheckers never did.
So the real question for me isn’t: “Should
we use AI or not?”
It’s: “How do we stay in
relationship with our own judgment while using something that can so easily
bypass it?”
That requires more than technical literacy. It requires metacognitive
training. It requires learning where we end and where the system begins.
It requires clarity about when AI is supporting our thinking, and when it’s
quietly replacing it.
If we don’t slow down enough to build that awareness, it can
start to feel like we’re handing over power rather than exercising it.
But if we do give ourselves that time, if we learn to set boundaries, claim authorship, and stay accountable to our own voice, then maybe the question isn’t whether Generative AI is a tool. Maybe the real work is deciding when we are.
No comments:
Post a Comment