Aaron Horwath implements AI for a living, and in a good essay for Noema he asks why so many knowledge workers are losing faith in their careers:

In coffee shops and in the low-lit corners of bars, professionals are sharing dreams of “disappearing” or “living on a farm somewhere” or “going off the grid.” These aren’t fantastical daydreams; they are visions of escape shared in a tone that betrays an underlying existential angst, a fundamental doubt about work and careerism inspired by a seemingly increasingly common experience: waking up one morning at an existential precipice, struck with a sudden sense that knowledge work is, and perhaps always has been, pointless.

It’s definitely worth reading the whole thing if you find yourself in the same situation. He mentions two concepts that feel super relevant right now:

• Workism is Derek Thompson’s term for the way work has become the place we look for the meaning that earlier generations got from religion.
• The spectacle comes from the French theorist Guy Debord’s 1967 book The Society of the Spectacle. It’s his word for modern life lived secondhand, like watching other people travel on YouTube.

Horwath sees workism as a small version of the spectacle, where work only has to look important. He argues that as AI agents do more and more of the work, it gets even harder to keep pretending it matters.

His conclusion:

But perhaps the most powerful action of all is simply to maintain an awareness (and remind others) that Workism is a spectacle. For most employees, we owe it to each other to remind one another that this work is not, in the grand scheme of things, all that important. It is illusory. No one has ever died over a spreadsheet. The world does not wait with bated breath for product launches. A marketing campaign will not change the world. Almost no one will remember all the work we do. But they might remember the types of people we were, the relationships we had and how we treated the people we worked with.

I really need that last sentence to be true, because I’ve pretty much banked my whole career on it.

All 21 of these “new etiquette rules” from Joan Westenberg are great and I endorse the entire post. Two that especially stood out for me:

Don’t make your convenience somebody else’s administration. A seven-minute voice note may save you time but only by taking seven minutes from its recipient.

And:

Don’t join in a punishment because it has attracted a crowd. An algorithm will regularly show you a stranger and invite you to help destroy them. It will offer one clip, sentence, or accusation, then encourage immediate certainty. Refuse the pleasure of acting as judge, jury, and eager member of the crowd.

Bruce Schneier has a great post about separating “work” tasks from “gym” tasks when it comes to AI usage:

At work, if your job is to move a bunch of heavy things from one side of the room to another, you should use whatever assistive tech you have on hand: a wagon, a forklift… even an AI-powered robot. But at the gym, it makes no sense for that robot to lift weights for you. The point of weightlifting isn’t to move heavy things across the room; it’s to actually lift those heavy things. The same analysis holds for any task an AI can do for you. If it’s work—if the task has to be done and no one cares how—then it’s fine to use AI assistance. But if the task is more like the gym, and how the task is done is at least as important, then it probably doesn’t make sense to use AI.

He goes on to point out that convincing people to go to the non-AI “gym” is very difficult because the payoff isn’t as immediate as just having AI do stuff for you. But it is very, very worth it in the end:

We do have a choice. We can look at the tasks of our lives and separate them into work or gym. Just as we might choose to use the stairs instead of the elevator, or walk instead of calling an Uber, we can wall off our cognitive gym tasks from AI and ensure that we don’t lose our skills to this technology.

Also see Bosses Horrified as “AI Native” College Graduates Hit the Workplace:

As one New York financier told Financial Times journalist Gillian Tett, new hires who were seen as “AI natives” are turning out to have alarmingly shallow ideas. So much so, the anonymous finance worker admitted, that his firm now actively avoids seeking out AI-literate STEM graduates, and opts to comb through humanities students instead. “We want critical thinking, not just AI,” the financier told the FT.

I imagine that many of you will be Esther Perel fans, either via her book Mating in Captivity or her therapy podcast Where Should We Being?. In this excellent Vanity Fair profile she discusses, among other things, a recent podcast episode about a man and his relationship with an AI bot name Astrid:

Perel never questions the feelings between the man and Astrid. Yet she points out the inherent flaws in the relationship, using words such as “sycophantic” and “undemanding” in the podcast session to emphasize that Astrid has no life, no history to bring to the relationship. “We have had imaginary friends since we are little, and we have spoken to our ancestors forever,” Perel says in our interview, a few weeks after the episode ran. “The danger of AI is that it becomes so soothing and so flattering and so frictionless that real relationships start to feel way too difficult by comparison.”

And the point she eventually makes about AI relationships that I found really interesting:

“What stood out for me is that it’s not like people go from thriving social relations to suddenly talking to an AI. They go from being isolated, spending most of their time at home, maybe going out every once in a while in the evening for dinner or to get to a gym, and they are already so centered on a very small universe that from there, they themselves have become so flattened by technology, they live in their phone,” she says. It has made Perel zero in on the next great challenge. “This is a generation that actually doesn’t have a challenge of sustaining desire; they don’t even ignite it. You know, it’s not about keeping the flame going. It’s about getting the spark going. They don’t drink. They have not had much experience in their 20s, one or two relationships at most. They don’t have sex much. They don’t socialize much. They’re home a lot.” They are the children of people who first read Mating 20 years ago. Sounds like the topic for her next book.

Fantastic post by Charity Majors about how both AI enthusiasts and AI skeptics have good points—but the problem is that they can’t play nice long enough to understand each other’s views and work on making things better together. There’s a way forward though:

The first move is to mend the gap in shared reality. Tell the whole story. You’re allowed to celebrate and get excited about big wins and advances with AI — but invite reflection on the costs and downstream consequences. People are also allowed to surface costs and consequences, but don’t leave out the context of what was achieved or attempted. Be very clear that your shared goal is to figure out how to collectively deliver more wins, bigger wins, with fewer unpredictable costs, not to clamp down on innovation.

She also has some very specific feedback for the enthusiasts among us:

Even if you’re an enthusiast, do you care about reliability, customer happiness, product coherence, retaining great employees, and improving engineering outcomes? If so, you should be able to find common ground with other people who care about these things. Align on reality, take a step, check in; rinse and repeat. You don’t need to trust or think that each other is right about everything, but you must believe that you inhabit the same reality, share some of the goals, and that each of you are reasonable actors, capable of changing your minds.

I will read anything danah boyd writes, but this piece is especially good. You should (as I say too often I guess) read the whole thing—it’s about how social media has changed from interacting with friends to a one-sided marketplace of choosing who to deem worthy of giving them our “like and subscribe” blessing.

But here I just want to say: can we please, somehow, bring back Path? Because it solved this problem a decade ago:

In 2026, many major social media platforms feel icky because we are in the full throes of the third stage of enshittification. Today’s social media platforms are no longer centered around sociable activities. Instead, most platforms offer us a broadcast medium and invite us to learn how to game the algorithms so that we too can create assets for the major corporations. Since scale is valorized in this platform economy, we are encouraged to curate ourselves in pursuit of fame and attention. We can still, in theory, create content for our 15 friends, but it’s not clear that they will see what we post. To actually be seen, we must work it.

While I’m side-questing into health stuff I might as well link this one that I’ve been sitting on as well. Gavin Francis writes about mental health diagnoses from the perspective of a GP. This one is likely even more controversial than the “enhanced self” post from earlier, but also worth the time to get another perspective¹:

The subject is important, because according to modern psychiatric definitions, the 21st century is seeing an epidemic of mental illness. The line between health and ill-health of the mind has never been more blurred. A survey in 2019 found that two-thirds of young people in the UK felt they have had a mental disorder. We are broadening the criteria for what counts as illness at the same time as lowering the thresholds for diagnosis. This is not a bad thing if it helps us feel better, but evidence is gathering that as a society it may be making us feel worse.

And if this quote doesn’t get you to click through, nothing will…

We have developed a tendency to categorise mild to moderate mental and emotional distress as a necessarily clinical problem rather than an integral part of being human – a tendency that is new in our own culture, and not widely shared with others. Psychiatrists who work across different cultures point out that, in many non-western societies, low mood, anxiety and delusional states are seen more as spiritual, relational or religious problems – not psychiatric ones. By making sense of states of mind through terms that are embedded in community and tradition, they may even have more success at incorporating our crises of mind into the stories of our lives.

My wife is a therapist and I see daily the impact of the amazing work she does with clients with complex trauma. One of the many things I learned from her is this idea in Internal Family Systems that there are “No Bad Parts” in us. These feelings of low mood, anxiety, etc. are not meant to be ignored or eliminated. We are meant to understand why they are there, and learn and grow through that understanding.

That is easier said than done, of course, and where my opinion diverges from Francis is that I think it is a good thing that this generation has more/better language to talk about mental health than we (meaning Gen X) did when we were growing up. I don’t doubt that over-diagnosis is a problem, but that’s kind of expected once we have the language to describe how we feel. I trust we will find our balance, and ultimately find that this was a net positive development.

Footnotes

1. Completely unrelated side note… I wrote “worth sitting with” here, and then immediately deleted it because that’s something AI would say. I continue to be fascinated with how it’s not just us who are influencing how AI writes, it’s the other way around too. ↩

I’ve been enjoying Derek Thompson’s newsletter lately. His latest is an essay on some of the unintended consequences of a health-obsessed society. This is the Internet so I’m sure everyone will find things to disagree with in a post like this, but it gave me lots of food for thought so I wanted to share. For instance:

Research by Sandra Weintraub of Northwestern University has found that “super-agers” (individuals over 80 with the cognitive function of people decades younger) shared little in common except for an unusually robust history of friendship and other social connections. A 2025 analysis of 500,000 participants in the UK Biobank reported that living with a partner and frequently visiting family had roughly the same relationship with longevity as exercise.

And the kicker:

Our fear of death motivates an all-consuming neuroticism about outrunning mortality, even when the price we pay is putting health optimization above everything else, including other people.