Matt Schumer isn’t a sci-fi novelist or a professor emeritus. He’s a young operator in the AI ecosystem. He’s building, investing, and living inside these tools daily.

When someone like this writes an urgent essay, it’s not because they watched too much dystopian Netflix. It’s because they’re close to the curve.

The acceleration is real and you don’t need a bunch of hockey-stick charts to prove it. Two years ago, everything about AI was clunky. In technology, I’ve always called this the “gawky teenager phase.” Now, it’s driving and hasn’t had an accident. Woo-hee. The keys are in the ignition. The road looks wide open.

The environment had An Inconvenient Truth and many more since. Finance had The Big Short and more. TED has owned the warning-talk genre for over a decade. Tonight’s news story is about “P-doom.” (Don’t ask, it’s not even in Google’s vernacular yet.) We have a cultural reflex to interpret urgency as apocalypse. Sometimes urgency just means: Pay attention.

The more interesting essay floating around isn’t doomsday. It’s about AI fatigue. When friction drops output multiplies, iterations never end and “done” becomes unclear.

That’s not sci-fi. That’s Tuesday. AI is less “robots replacing us” and more “infinite tabs open in your brain.” I try to explain to my students (PM - professor-me) that all of this just makes my brain hurt. Like lifting heavier weights at the gym: I’m sore in a good way. I’m exercising parts of my brain that I maybe never, ever have.

Right now AI amplifies:

It does not magically give direction to someone who doesn’t have it.

It’s a power tool.
Not a brain transplant.

That’s exciting.
And deeply tiring.

Both are true.

Not whether Schumer is “right.”

Watch instead:

That’s the real story.

Maybe the more interesting question isn’t whether Matt is right. Maybe it’s this: Why do we lean in so hard when someone rings an alarm? Why does urgency travel faster than nuance?

Why do 66 million people click on “Something Big Is Happening” but not on “Something Complex Is Unfolding”?

Doom feels decisive. It feels cinematic. It gives us a role.

Acceleration without narrative is boring. Acceleration with a villain is thrilling.

Now it’s driving. It hasn’t crashed the car.

But we’re all in the passenger seat shouting about cliffs that may or may not be there.

That doesn’t mean don’t watch the road.

It means maybe don’t grab the wheel.

Open your AI tool of choice and type:

Then actually read the answer.

Then edit it.

Then decide.

AI is an amplifier.
You still hold the steering wheel.

Stay curious. The future isn’t yelling. It’s iterating. And almost is often enough.

Connie