You're not smarter because you struggle. We all know the type. The ones who lean back smugly and say, “I don’t use AI,” like they’ve just announced they handwrite their emails by candlelight. A declaration meant to signal integrity, depth, or discipline. Like avoiding tools is some kind of creative virtue. Like the longer it takes you to write a paragraph, the more authentic it becomes. But here’s the twist: Using AI well actually requires intelligence. Not vibes. Not arrogance. Not Luddite nostalgia wrapped in a superiority complex. Actual intelligence,the digital, strategic, adaptive kind. It takes skill to collaborate with a machine and still sound like yourself. It takes precision to prompt clearly, strategy to know what it can enhance, and confidence to edit what doesn’t serve you. Not just the ability to write, think, or strategize, but the humility to adapt, the curiosity to learn, and the awareness that tools don’t erase your value. They refine how you deliver it. Because it’s one thing to be great at writing. Or planning. Or strategy. It’s another thing entirely to know how to structure a smart prompt, train a model, refine its tone, challenge its bias, or build layered output from simple input. And let’s be honest: if you don’t know how to do that, your “I don’t use AI” isn’t a flex — it’s a flag. A bright red one, waving wildly over missed potential. Knowing how to use AI well is not a shortcut , it’s a skill. And spoiler: not everyone has it. It’s easy to assume that AI is doing the thinking for you. But anyone who’s tried to get a smart, nuanced, relevant, and well-structured answer from AI knows: If your prompt is shallow, the output will be worse. If your thinking is unclear, the machine won’t save you. Romanticizing the struggle doesn’t make you more talented. This obsession with suffering as credibility is exhausting. You’re not more ethical for spending five hours rephrasing a sentence when a tool could’ve given you ten good options in five seconds. You’re not nobler for refusing help when help exists. If anything, you’re just... slower. In a world that’s accelerating. AI isn’t replacing thinking — it’s replacing the grind. We romanticize the hard way because we’ve been conditioned to believe that struggle equals substance. That to suffer for your art, your writing, your proposal is to earn credibility. But no one gets a trophy for burnout. And let’s be real: the world isn’t exactly short on tasks that require your actual brainpower. So why waste it wrestling with format or grammar when your energy could go to refining ideas, building strategy, or solving real problems? Here’s the part many people miss: AI doesn’t make you less of a creator. It makes you a more efficient one. It doesn’t replace your voice, it reflects it back to you, refined, faster, with more room to think, question, and improve. Using AI isn’t cheating , it’s collaboration. And refusing to use it proudly isn’t strategy — it’s stagnation. So, how do you actually use AI without losing your brilliance? Start small. Ask it to summarize, rephrase, or organize. You don’t have to hand over your soul , just a few tasks. Use it to think, not just to write. Let it help you brainstorm, structure, or see angles you might’ve missed. Train your prompts. It’s not magic ; it mirrors what you give it. Ask better questions, get better results. Stay curious. You don’t have to know it all. You just have to be willing to learn. Keep your voice. You’re the author. AI is the assistant. Use it, don’t become it. Let’s pause and be honest: Do you know what’s actually impressive in 2025? Someone who understands the assignment and knows how to use the tools available to execute it faster, better, sharper. Not someone sitting on a high horse while others are building electric ones. If you’re bragging about not using AI the same way people used to brag about not owning a microwave — congratulations: you’ve successfully made your life harder and less efficient, all in the name of pretending to be above it. AI isn’t replacing your talent. It’s revealing how you use it. So no, you’re not smarter because you struggle. You’re just performing it. And in this era? That’s not impressive , that’s just outdated. You don’t have to abandon the way you work. But refusing to evolve isn’t a badge of honor , it’s just a choice.
