For years, I thought I had a motivation problem.
Then I thought I had a discipline problem.
Now I’m not convinced it was either.
The more I pay attention to how I actually work, the more I think the real problem has always been something much simpler:
Friction.
The Email That Sat There For Three Days
This is going to sound ridiculous.
A few weeks ago, I had an email sitting in my inbox for three days.
Not because I didn’t know what to say.
Not because I was busy.
Not because it was difficult.
I’d already written the reply in my head.
But somehow...
The email never got sent.
If you’ve ever had an email, a phone call, a bill, or some random task sitting there for days, even though it should only take a few minutes, you probably know exactly what I’m talking about.
From the outside, it looks like laziness.
From the inside, it feels completely different.
It’s like there’s a gap between what you want to do...
And what actually happens.
The older I get, the more I realise that gap might be one of the most important things AI is helping people with.
The Invisible Force
For years, I thought something was wrong with me.
Letters would arrive through the door and I’d leave them sitting there.
Sometimes for days.
Sometimes for weeks.
Not because I couldn’t read them.
Not because I didn’t understand them.
I just didn’t want to deal with them.
Appointments.
Paperwork.
Scheduling.
Admin.
The boring stuff.
None of it was difficult.
But all of it felt strangely heavy.
Like there was some invisible force pushing back against me.
Honestly, that’s still the best word I’ve found for it.
Friction.
The task itself isn’t the problem.
Getting started is.
AI Didn’t Do The Work
Here’s where things got interesting.
Most people assume the solution is more discipline.
Maybe.
Sometimes.
But when ChatGPT arrived, something unexpected happened.
Many of the tasks I used to avoid suddenly became easier.
Not because AI did them for me.
Because AI helped me begin.
That’s an important distinction.
The Difference Between Understanding And Starting
Take email.
I don’t deal with my inbox the way I used to anymore.
AI audits it.
It summarises what’s important.
It tells me what needs action.
It tells me what can wait.
Then, at certain points during the day, I get a short overview instead of staring at a wall of unread messages.
That’s the interesting part.
I never struggled to understand my emails.
The problem wasn’t comprehension.
The problem was opening them.
Sorting them.
Deciding what mattered.
Actually taking the first step.
AI helps with that part.
It turns a pile of information into a clear next action.
Then I Started Seeing The Pattern Everywhere
Once I noticed it, I couldn’t stop seeing it.
Scheduling.
Planning.
Organisation.
Projects.
Content creation.
Even day-to-day life.
I now have systems that remind me about appointments.
Not just notifications.
Actual systems that talk back.
Because I’ve realised something about myself.
A notification is easy to ignore.
A conversation isn’t.
Something that actively engages my attention works far better than another silent reminder sitting on my phone.
The Robot Vacuum Changed The Way I Think
Then I noticed the same pattern somewhere completely different.
I have a robot vacuum cleaner.
Now, I know that’s not AI.
But bear with me.
Most people see convenience.
I see one less thing competing for my attention.
One less unfinished task quietly sitting in the background.
One less piece of mental clutter.
That’s when something clicked.
Maybe the problem was never intelligence.
Maybe the problem was friction.
My Brain Was Never The Problem
I’ve never struggled with ideas.
If anything...
I’ve always had too many.
Ideas for videos.
Businesses.
Projects.
Books.
Rabbit holes I probably shouldn’t go down.
Generating ideas has never been difficult.
Capturing them has.
Organising them has.
Turning them into reality has.
That’s one of the reasons I built my own second-brain systems.
Brain dumps.
Knowledge maps.
Repositories.
Weekly briefs.
AI assistants.
Systems that stop ideas disappearing into the void.
People often look at systems like these and think productivity.
I don’t.
To me, they feel more like scaffolding.
A support structure.
Something helping to hold everything together.
AI As Cognitive Scaffolding
The more I thought about it...
The more AI stopped looking like a tool.
And started looking like cognitive scaffolding.
Not thinking for me.
Supporting my thinking.
Not replacing my brain.
Helping my brain reach the real world.
Because the ideas were already there.
The plans were already there.
The thoughts were already there.
AI simply helped them cross the finish line.
Is AI Helping Us Express Ourselves?
This is where things become uncomfortable.
If AI helps someone organise their thoughts...
Structure their communication...
Rewrite messy ideas into something clear...
Is it helping them express themselves?
Or is it helping them mask themselves?
I genuinely don’t know.
And I think that’s a far more interesting question than whether AI is making people smarter or dumber.
Because for some people...
AI isn’t generating thoughts.
It’s translating them.
It’s taking something trapped inside the mind...
And helping it exist in the world.
A Prosthetic Mind
That’s why I don’t think AI is a shortcut.
A shortcut skips the work.
This doesn’t feel like skipping the work.
It feels like removing the friction that stopped the work from happening in the first place.
That’s why I called this piece:
AI Is Not a Shortcut. It Is a Prosthetic.
Not because AI is doing my thinking.
Because it’s helping me do the things that used to get stuck somewhere between intention and action.
The email gets sent.
The appointment gets remembered.
The idea gets captured.
The project gets started.
The bill gets opened.
The thought reaches reality.
So Where Do I End?
And honestly...
That’s where things start getting weird.
If a tool helps you see...
We call it glasses.
If a tool helps you hear...
We call it a hearing aid.
If a tool helps you move...
We call it a prosthetic.
But what do we call a tool that helps you think?
Or maybe that’s the wrong question.
Maybe the real question is this:
At what point does a tool stop being a tool?
My phone already remembers things I forget.
My calendar already knows where I’m supposed to be.
My second brain stores ideas that would’ve disappeared years ago.
And now AI helps me organise, prioritise, plan and execute.
So where exactly do I end...
And where does the system begin?
I don’t know.
But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.