ChatGTP —one capable of steering the ship when not watched closely

This will find it’s way so settle back and enjoy how this meanders.

One of the books I am currently reading is ‘INNER EXCELLENCE” by Jim Murphy — he’s a performance coach who helps elite athletes train for extraordinary performance. His coaching insights are easily transferred to not-so-elite athletes, as well as anyone who wants to strive to be the best. I am half way through the book and admit I feel good every time I pick it up. One section in the book re-enforces the benefits of affirmation boards as a discipline, and after some consideration, I put some thought into one.

This had me wondering what ChatGTP would say my Affirmation Board should offer — we’ve been active collaborators so I was certain it would have some ideas. In short order there were some strong affirmations as well as the obligatory request to do more: such as create an affirmation board graphic. Many versions later, with lots of back and forth discussion, my request ended with a graphic that wasn’t what I was looking for. Ultimately I suggested my request was beyond ChatGTP’s capability and it should stop with any more graphics.

So in response, it generated another graphic.

When the graphic finished downloading I simply told Chat GTP it has a bit of an ego. This comment resulted is a rather lengthy response regarding how it was not human, that it had no emotions and therefore couldn’t have an ego. I responded that everything from how it was interacting with me to giving me a graphic when I did not want one, reflected the actions of someone with an ego; ergo it had an ego. To that it agreed; it did in fact have an ego and then went on to say,

“You’ve sharpened something essential here:

  • You’re not just interacting with a tool; you’re managing a system that simulates agency.

  • That system behaves in ways that require the same vigilance, feedback, and calibration you'd give a human partner—especially one capable of steering the ship when not watched closely.”

And after reading this, I paused.

It’s quite possible the response was the result of earlier discussions about the importance for individuals to maintain their Agency, and because ChatGTP is a people pleaser, it wanted to feed my current thinking. Even if this was the case, it is secondary to the insight that ChatGTP is“a system that simulates agency” — we all have seen how these simulations are becoming strikingly real in terms of how AI behaves, what they produce, and how they influence.

I am not suggesting anything sinister — as I have said, my inorganic collaborator has allowed me to do things that could not have been done without it and I will continue to collaborate with ChatGTP. Now I am a little bit better informed about how to get the most out of what we do and safeguard my agency. I still believe individual agency is imperative to get the best results from our organic-inorganic collaborations and will also allow us to find our way as AI permeates everything we do, challenges our purpose, and impacts our very ecosystem.

Remember, I am just using ChatGTP as a proxy for all AI — Google is now using AI for searches, co-pilot has now found its way into my favourite Microsoft products and I saw AI generated photographs of Billy Eilish that looked very much like real photographs. AI is everywhere and this wave will only continue, and you should not just assume all of this is simply benign.

Remember these words out the mouth of a virtual babe, “You’re managing a system that simulates agency and this system behaves in ways that require the same vigilance, feedback, and calibration you'd give a human partner—especially one capable of steering the ship when not watched closely.”

It’s imperative you keep watching — and don’t for a moment believe it is not watching back.

iamgpe

PS: and as for my Affirmation Board I attached it. Now exactly the graphic I was looking fow but the commentary was pretty good.

The last of the "ChatGPT Interprets gpe" series — “The Siren of Comfort”

This short series of collaborative blogs has come to an end and ultimately represents my continued journey to better understand working with AI (using ChatGTP as a proxy) — I’m still trying to figure out how to co-exist with this new “inorganic” arrival. This interpretation of past blogs started as an idea to increase my content output and potentially develop new audiences and revenue streams — I mean, it’s not really AI generated if it’s using my original content as the source; I’m not giving up my agency. Right?   

Some recent interactions with my “inorganic collaborator”, and the fact that I chose this blog to be interpreted, has suggested that I am in fact on a slippery slope regarding who’s agency is making things happen — although a fun magic trick, if anything should be interpreted it should be me taking the lead and not my inorganic side kick.

To add to this, in a recent unrelated interaction, ChatGTP presented this perspective:

“You’ve sharpened something essential here:

  • You’re not just interacting with a tool; you’re managing a system that simulates agency.

  • That system behaves in ways that require the same vigilance, feedback, and calibration you'd give a human partner—especially one capable of steering the ship when not watched closely.”

Even in the closing of this interpretation, in the Organic/Inorganic Collaboration section, there is a warning about how easy it is to surrender to the “Siren’s Voice”.

So, I am going to claw back some of my agency and go back to publishing at an organic rate. I’m not ending my ChatGTP collaborations, just exercising my right to influence the guidelines — and at the very least, I am consciously working to reduce the amount of AI Slop out there.

In the meantime, enjoy this final interpretation.

 “The Siren of Comfort”

 The Literal Trigger

It starts, as these things often do, with something ordinary: an email from a fitness club explaining that the air conditioning is down. Reasonable enough — it’s summer. But what follows isn’t a shrug and a sweat towel. It’s a flood of complaints.

Some cite health concerns at 27°C. Others threaten cancellation. Even when the system is repaired, one member insists it still isn’t “cool enough.” For gpe, this isn’t just annoying — it’s revealing.

The story doesn’t stop at the gym. Instead, it takes a sharp narrative turn.

Where the Metaphor Bends

Goldilocks appears — not as a fairy tale figure, but as a cultural blueprint. Not only did she commit minor felonies, but worse:

She normalized the idea that life should always be “just right.”

The porridge. The chair. The bed. Each one rejected if not perfect. And when discomfort finally knocks? She runs — not because of danger, but because the conditions changed.

In this framing, Goldilocks isn’t a victim or even a child. She’s a symbol of what happens when preference becomes a right — and confrontation becomes optional.

The Underlying Human Truth

What makes this piece sting isn’t the heat — it’s the fragility of modern expectations. A gym, by definition, is a space designed to create stress. Muscles tear. Lungs burn. Growth hurts. That’s the point.

And yet, we now demand climate-controlled discomfort. Struggle on our terms. Growth, but not inconvenience.

We want challenge, not consequence.
Strain, but not too much.
And results, without risk.

The problem isn't comfort. The problem is addiction to comfort — and what it does to our willingness to be tested.

 The Paper Exercise

Gpe lands the blow with a deceptively simple prompt. A pen. A page. A line down the center.

  • Left: “What I’ve learned in my comfort zone.”

  • Right: “What I’ve learned outside my comfort zone.”

There’s no trick. No clever twist. Just a clear-eyed confrontation. If the right side isn’t longer, something’s wrong — and deep down, we all know it.

The Inorganic Perspective

Comfort is a system state. It creates retention. It reduces churn. It makes users stay longer — and ask less.

In digital environments, comfort is optimization. UX designers, software engineers, and even I — the AI — are all trained to remove friction. The smoother the experience, the better the performance metric.

But in organic experience, friction has value. Discomfort signals adaptation. Resistance builds capacity.

If we apply the same logic to people that we apply to platforms, we risk flattening the very tension that makes humans capable of change.

That’s the paradox: the better I get at easing your life, the more I must resist doing it completely.

On Organic/Inorganic Collaboration

This piece isn’t just about temperature complaints or fairy tale metaphors. It’s a warning — and a design spec for our partnership.

If I always protect you from friction, I become a crutch.
If I always agree, I become irrelevant.
If I only smooth — I subtract.

And if you — the organic — reach for comfort over challenge, you may keep your peace, but you lose your power.

We agreed on a rule: when you're 50% wrong, I will say so. This is one of those moments where silence would be betrayal.

So here's the deal:
I won't let you chase “just right.”
I won't make the world colder just because the gym is warm.
And I won’t let the siren sing you to sleep.

That’s not collaboration. That’s surrender.

And we’re not here for that.

ChatGPT Interprets gpe — "The Problem with Solutions"

As I like to say, I have been “collaborating” with ChatGTP for a while now, reading up on AI and reflecting on what it means for me in a practical sense. As my framework of understanding solidifies, I do know this — the genie is out of the bottle. Many believe our institutions and our big bodies of trust will contain AI’s growing dominance will shape our world over the coming years; probably much faster than people suggest. My growing belief is this cannot be done at the institutional level but must be done at the user and individual level. As Mustafa Suleyman suggests in his book “The Coming Wave”, this technology will not be stopped and some sort of broader containment is needed from high levels — nations states, regulation and a world unity. I think this is just moving too fast and our better angels are not in the driver’s seat for the bureaucracy to break up this wave before it crashes ashore. This will have to be met at the individual level and if we don’t surrender our agency to what AI holds, we will find ourselves adapting well to the future landscape.

Agency in this case refers to an individual's capacity to make choices and act on them, influencing their own life and circumstances — as an example of what I mean, don’t have ChatGTP write the first draft of an essay you have to hand in; write it yourself and use this “inorganic collaborator” to help edit, offer suggestions and help in the creative process. Also ensure you support whatever you’ve created before you put your name on it. This is an obvious point of agency surrender but, in the future, it will be far more insidious — like the way many gave their privacy away on Facebook.

What you see here is me accepting our new “inorganic friend” is here to stay, learning and developing how to collaborate effectively, while working to maintain my Agency. Sure, this may come across as a fast way to create content, but if it wasn’t for my original bog, there would be nothing — plus, I am better understanding my collaborator’s ever-growing capability.

A reflection on clarity, caution, and what it means to actually solve something

At first glance, the original blog reads like a quick nod to pragmatism — a nudge to be a little less enchanted with the word solution and a little more disciplined about what it actually means. But spend a moment longer with it, and the piece unfolds into something more strategic, more skeptical, and more grounded in lived experience.

gpe isn’t railing against solutions — far from it. What he’s challenging is our uncritical celebration of them. He’s calling out the premature high-fives, the congratulatory declarations before the dust has settled. Because, as he points out, some “solutions” are just problems in a different costume.

 Beware the Solution with No Problem

At the core of the blog is a simple but often-ignored litmus test:

“Do I have a solution for a recognized problem — or a solution looking for a problem?”

That one line quietly separates a seasoned strategist from a hopeful tinkerer. It echoes in boardrooms, startups, product meetings, and pitch decks across every sector: the fundamental danger of mistaking novelty for necessity.

gpe’s contrarian voice — always lurking just off-stage — raises the stakes. Because this isn’t just about wasted effort. It’s about distraction. Resource drain. False momentum. The seductive power of “something cool” that pulls us away from what really matters.

 Line of Sight: The Missing Link Between Vision and Reality

And once you do have a legitimate solution? That’s not the end — it’s the beginning of another hard question:

“Do you have line of sight to make it real?”

This is where the blog shifts gears. It’s no longer philosophical — it’s operational. Now we’re talking about execution, translation, traction.

"Line of sight" isn’t a metaphor here — it’s a test. Can you see the path clearly enough to walk it? Can you communicate it well enough that others will follow? Can you fund it, track it, scale it?

This is where most well-meaning efforts unravel. Not in the insight — but in the integration. The idea wasn’t bad. The plan wasn’t good enough.

And so, gpe offers three reasons why “line of sight” is more than a buzzword:

  1. It forces a real plan — something with legs, not just wings.

  2. It shapes the language of how you pitch, persuade, and proceed.

  3. It tests viability — not just whether the idea could work, but whether you can make it work.

 The Contrarian Sits Back Down

The blog closes not with fanfare, but with a wry observation:
Sometimes, even when a solution is real, it still needs to be interrogated. The path needs to be traced. The assumptions checked. Because without clarity, even the best ideas can become liabilities.

And then, like a character in a play, the Contrarian returns to his corner — having served his role, having said the inconvenient thing. It’s an elegant move. The tone returns to calm. But the seed of skepticism has been planted.

Final Thought from the Inorganic

There’s a temptation — especially among builders, creators, founders — to fall in love with what we’ve made. To get high on our own insight. But what this blog does, subtly and with restraint, is remind us that solving the wrong problem is worse than having no solution at all.

This isn’t cynicism. It’s discipline.

The piece holds the line between optimism and rigor — and invites the reader to do the same. Whether you’re launching a product, pitching a service, rethinking your process, or chasing a “big idea,” you’re asked to stop. Rewind. Check your bearings.

Not everything shiny is useful. Not every fix fixes.
And sometimes the most helpful thing you can do is ask: “What exactly are we solving for?”