One thing I know A.I. is good for

On almost all fronts, artificial intelligence is a loaded topic.

A.I. may allow us to cure things that were deemed incurable—and it may engineer pathogens that make us sick.

A.I. may enable lives of such ease and abundance that no one will have to work—and without work, we may lose our sense of purpose.

A.I. may help us reverse climate change—and it may make the problem worse by requiring so much energy.

The ways in which A.I. will impact our daily lives and greater society remain to be seen. While we wait, teetering somewhere along the spectrum of euphoria to panic, there’s a way you can use A.I. right now to expand your perspective.

You actually don’t even have to use it in the literal sense. You just need to apply it conceptually.

For the sake of this thought exercise, let’s assume that A.I. will reach a point where it can produce things better than humans can, and that everyone with an internet connection can access those productions.

Rather than making that a problem, arguing for why it will never be true, or trying to figure out exactly how it would work, try asking yourself what it could make possible.

If A.I. enabled you to jump into anything at a proficient level, what would you do?

Would you do something brand new or expand your capacity in an area you’re already pursuing?

You don’t have to commit to anything right now. This is just an invitation to let your mind wander in the realm of possibility.

In my coaching practice and in my own life, I notice a lot of us dismissing our curiosities—professional, creative, or otherwise—because we think it’s too late to learn the things required to be remotely decent.

Burying ourselves under a mountain of “I don’t know how to”s, we stop before we even start.

If A.I. eliminated the “how to” barrier, what would you create?

For me, this exercise has opened a new line of inquiry into something I’ve long wondered about: If I could rewind to being 22 years old, fresh out of college, what would I do?

Before A.I. came on the scene, that question filled me with a bunch of self-defeating thoughts along the lines of “I should have…” or “If only I had…” or “I wish I had…”

Now that some of the paths I bemoaned not taking are reasonably within my grasp, I’m forced to bring a higher level of consciousness to the question.

I can no longer let myself off the hook with reflexive assumptions that eliminate options before I’ve really examined them.

Are there curiosities or aspirations you’ve dismissed because you’ve been telling yourself it’s too late?

What would you pursue in your life if skill acquisition—at least the kind you assumed was necessary—was no longer a hurdle?