“You’re probably wasting 80% of your time on the wrong computational journalism tasks. This single mindset shift will unlock more growth than you thought possible. Let me explain.”
That’s the excerpt from an article I was asked to write. And it’s true. For years, I struggled with this stuff, making every mistake in the book. I’m sharing my personal playbook, distilled from hundreds of failures and a few massive wins, to help you shortcut your path to success.
I see it all the time. Creators, artists, filmmakers, writers… they get their hands on some new AI tool and think it’s a magic wand. They believe it will solve all their problems, generate brilliant ideas, and do the hard work for them. And for a little while, it feels like it does. The initial results are flashy, and it’s easy to get seduced by the sheer volume of what you can produce. But then, the emptiness sets in. The work feels hollow, generic. It lacks a soul.
I’ve been there. When I was building MovieLaLa, we were obsessed with using algorithms to predict which movies would be hits. We had all this data, all these smart engineers, and we built some incredibly complex models. On paper, it looked amazing. We could tell you with 90% accuracy whether a movie would be a blockbuster or a flop. But you know what? It didn't matter. Because we were missing the most important piece of the puzzle: the why. We were so focused on the what, we forgot to ask why people connect with stories in the first place. It was a hard lesson, and a costly one. That company was eventually acquired by Gfycat, but I’ve never forgotten the feeling of having a powerful tool and no real purpose.
That’s the trap of AI. It’s a powerful tool, no doubt. I’ve invested in over 200 companies, including some of the biggest names in AI like Anthropic, OpenAI, and Scale AI. I believe in its potential. But I also know its limitations. AI can’t give you a soul. It can’t give you a point of view. It can’t give you an ethical framework. That’s your job. And if you don’t do that job, you’re just another person making noise in an already crowded world.
The Problem with “Prompt Engineering”
Everyone is talking about “prompt engineering” these days. They think that if they can just find the right combination of words, they can unlock the AI’s genius. Look, I get it. It’s a tempting idea. But it’s also a dead end. You can’t prompt your way to a soul. You can’t prompt your way to a story that matters. All you can do is generate a more and more refined version of what’s already out there. You’re not creating, you’re just curating. And in a world where everyone has access to the same tools, that’s not enough.
I learned this the hard way with my second company, RemoteTeam. We were building tools to help companies manage remote teams, and we were using AI to do everything from scheduling meetings to writing job descriptions. And it worked, to a point. But we quickly realized that the most important parts of building a remote team had nothing to do with AI. It was about culture. It was about trust. It was about creating a sense of shared purpose. These are things that you can’t automate. You have to build them, one human interaction at a time. That company was acquired by Gusto, and it was a great outcome. But it reinforced the lesson I learned at MovieLaLa: technology is a tool, not a solution.
I remember one time at RemoteTeam, we were trying to use an AI to write our company’s values. We fed it all the right keywords: “collaboration,” “innovation,” “transparency.” And it came back with a perfectly worded, completely soulless list of corporate jargon. It was the kind of thing you’d see on a poster in a sterile office park. It was everything we weren’t. We ended up throwing it all out and starting from scratch. We spent a week in a cabin in the woods, with no internet, just talking to each other. We talked about what we cared about, what we wanted to build, and what kind of company we wanted to be. And at the end of that week, we had a set of values that were messy, and human, and real. They weren’t perfect, but they were ours. And they became the foundation of our culture.
My Playbook for Ethical AI Narratives
So how do you use AI without losing your soul? How do you create work that is both technologically advanced and deeply human? Here’s my playbook. It’s not a magic formula, but it’s a start.
Start with your story. Before you even think about AI, you need to know what you want to say. What’s your point of view? What’s your unique perspective on the world? What’s the story that only you can tell? If you don’t have a clear answer to these questions, no amount of AI will help you. You’ll just be amplifying the noise. I once spent six months and over $100,000 on a project that went nowhere because I didn’t have a clear story. I was so in love with the technology that I forgot to ask myself what I was trying to say. Don’t make the same mistake. Read more about this in my post on my biggest investment mistake.
Use AI as a collaborator, not a crutch. AI can be a great brainstorming partner. It can help you generate ideas, explore different possibilities, and see your work from a new perspective. But it’s not a replacement for your own creativity. You’re the one who has to make the final decisions. You’re the one who has to have the vision. I’ve seen too many creators abdicate their responsibility to the algorithm. They let the AI make the creative choices, and the result is always the same: a soulless, generic piece of work. A few years ago, I was working on a screenplay. I was stuck on a scene, so I decided to try using an AI to help me. I fed it the characters, the setting, and the basic plot points. And it came back with a perfectly structured, perfectly paced, and perfectly boring scene. It was technically flawless, but it had no heart. It was like a paint-by-numbers version of a great scene. I ended up deleting the whole thing and starting over. And this time, I didn’t use the AI. I just sat with my characters, and I listened to them. And eventually, they told me what they wanted to say.
Be transparent. If you’re using AI in your work, be upfront about it. Don’t try to pass it off as your own. Your audience will respect you for your honesty. And it will open up a conversation about the role of AI in creativity. This is a conversation we need to be having. I’m not afraid to admit that I use AI in my work. I’m proud of it. But I’m also clear about what I use it for, and what I don’t. I think of it like this: if you’re a musician, and you use a synthesizer, you don’t pretend that you’re playing a real orchestra. You’re honest about the tools you’re using. And that honesty is part of what makes your music interesting. It’s the same with AI. Be honest about your tools. And let your audience be part of the conversation.
Build your own tools. The best way to understand AI is to build it yourself. You don’t have to be a programmer. There are plenty of no-code tools out there that make it easy to build your own AI models. The process of building your own tools will force you to think deeply about the ethical implications of AI. It will force you to confront your own biases. And it will give you a much deeper understanding of how AI actually works. This is something I’m passionate about. I believe that everyone should learn to code, not because they want to be a programmer, but because it’s the new literacy. It’s the language of the 21st century. If you want to learn more about this, check out my post on the future of remote work.
Embrace the mess. Human stories are messy. They’re full of contradictions, and false starts, and unexpected turns. Don’t try to clean them up. Don’t try to make them fit into a neat little box. The mess is where the magic is. The mess is where the humanity is. I’ve learned to love the mess. I’ve learned that the best stories are the ones that are a little bit broken. They’re the ones that have been through the fire. They’re the ones that have a few scars. Those are the stories that people connect with. Those are the stories that last. When I was writing my book, “Becoming Top 1%,” I had a chapter that just wasn’t working. I had rewritten it a dozen times, and it was still a mess. I was about to give up on it, but then I had a conversation with a friend. He told me, “The mess is the message.” And he was right. The mess was the story. The mess was what made it human. So I stopped trying to fix it. I just let it be messy. And it ended up being one of the best chapters in the book.
The Road Ahead
Look, I’m not a Luddite. I’m not saying we should all go back to writing with a quill and parchment. I’m a tech guy. I’ve built my career on the cutting edge of technology. But I’m also a human being. And I believe that technology should serve humanity, not the other way around. The rise of AI is a huge opportunity for creators. It’s a chance to tell new stories, to create new forms of art, and to connect with our audiences in new ways. But it’s also a responsibility. We have a responsibility to use this technology ethically, to use it to create work that is not only beautiful and innovative, but also meaningful and human.
I honestly have no idea what the future of AI will look like. Anyone who tells you they do is lying. But I do know this: the creators who will thrive in this new world are the ones who can combine the power of AI with the power of the human heart. They are the ones who can tell stories that matter. They are the ones who can create work that is not only smart, but also wise.
I’ve seen this firsthand in the companies I’ve invested in. The ones that are succeeding are the ones that are using AI to solve real human problems. They’re not just building technology for technology’s sake. They’re building technology to make our lives better. They’re building technology to help us connect with each other, to help us understand each other, to help us create a better world. And they’re doing it with a deep sense of responsibility, and a deep respect for the human spirit.
So I’ll ask you again: what’s your story? What’s the story that only you can tell? Don’t let the noise of AI drown it out. Your voice is more important than ever. Now go out there and make something that matters.
This is not just a theoretical exercise for me. I live this every day. As an angel investor, I see hundreds of pitches a year. And the ones that get my attention are the ones that have a real story behind them. They’re the ones that are trying to solve a real problem, not just chase the latest trend. They’re the ones that are led by founders who are passionate, and driven, and a little bit crazy. The kind of people who are willing to pour their heart and soul into their work. Because at the end of the day, that’s what it takes to build something that lasts. It’s not about the technology. It’s not about the money. It’s about the people. It’s about the story. And it’s about the heart.
I’m not saying it’s easy. It’s not. It’s hard. It’s lonely. And there are no guarantees. But it’s also the most rewarding work you’ll ever do. To build something from nothing, to create something that didn’t exist before, to tell a story that only you can tell – there’s nothing else like it in the world. So if you’re a creator, an artist, a filmmaker, a writer, I want to leave you with this: don’t be afraid of AI. But don’t be seduced by it either. Use it as a tool. Use it to amplify your voice. But never, ever let it replace your heart. Your heart is your greatest asset. It’s the one thing that can’t be replicated. It’s the one thing that will always be uniquely, and beautifully, and powerfully yours.
Frequently Asked Questions
What's the most common pushback you get on this?
People often push back by citing exceptions or edge cases. And they're usually right that exceptions exist. But building a strategy around exceptions rather than patterns is a losing game for most founders.
How can I apply this thinking to my own situation?
Start by identifying the core principle behind the opinion, not the specific example. Then ask yourself: does this principle apply to my context? If yes, test it in a small, low-risk way before going all in.
What experience informs this perspective?
This perspective comes from over a decade of building companies in Silicon Valley, two successful exits (RemoteTeam to Gusto, MovieLaLa to Gfycat), and investing in 200+ startups including Anthropic, OpenAI, and Scale AI. I write about what I've lived.