Do you ever feel like we’re slipping into something we can’t control? Like we’re handing over the keys to our humanity, one algorithm at a time?
The machines aren’t just coming — they’re already here. And they’re not just changing the world.
They’re changing us.
The Death of Resistance
This morning I sat in New York City traffic, coffee cooling in my hand, thinking about a word we’ve stopped using: resistance.
There was a time when the word meant something — rebellion, courage, nonconformity. But now? We’ve replaced it with “upgrade.” Tech is the new religion. Smartphones, smart homes, smart fridges. It’s all so seamless. So efficient. So easy.
But AI… AI is different. It’s not just replacing what we do — it’s replacing how we think, feel, and create. It’s creeping into the space where our deepest, most fragile selves once lived.
The Convenience Trap
Let’s be honest. AI is faster, cheaper, and more convenient than any of us. We ask it to write our essays, paint our portraits, compose our music, and even finish our sentences.
But with every act of delegation, we lose something.
We lose original thought — the strange, chaotic beauty of an unfiltered mind.
We lose flawed expression — the kind that hurts, the kind that heals.
We lose the struggle — and the struggle is the art.
Because art was never meant to be optimized.
It was meant to be felt.
What We’re Really Losing
Here’s the part no one talks about:
AI poetry isn’t poetry. It’s an emotionless algorithm dressed in verse.
AI art wins contests — but there’s no soul behind the stroke. No pain. No obsession.
AI music gets the tempo right. But where’s the crack in the singer’s voice? The human ache?
We’re applauding the illusion of depth. We’re rewarding precision over passion. And the scariest part?
No one seems to care.
We’ve made failure unacceptable. And in doing so, we’ve sterilized the process that once gave art its meaning.
The Real Threat Isn’t Skynet
Forget the robot apocalypse. That’s science fiction.
The real danger is spiritual erosion. The kind that happens slowly. Quietly.
When art becomes content.
When creators become “brands.”
When memory is stored in cloud servers and childhood is shaped by TikTok trends.
We stop being unpredictable.
We stop being soulful.
We stop being human.
So What Do We Do?
We resist. Not with protests or code, but with something more radical:
Presence. Slowness. Humanity.
Write by hand. Even if it’s messy. Especially if it’s messy.
Make something imperfect. Let it fail. Let it breathe.
Read something older than you are.
Sit in silence. Talk to a stranger. Feel discomfort without swiping it away.
Don’t let a machine do the living for you.
Because resisting AI isn’t about smashing machines. It’s about refusing to become one.
~ John Kobeck