AI: "It's raining cats, dogs and pitchforks"

A survival guide for the AI flood nobody asked for but everyone is drowning in



Let me start with a small historical detour. Bear with me.

When Gutenberg finished tinkering with his printing press around 1440, the world did not just get books. It got flooded with pamphlets, religious texts, political manifestos, bad poetry, and the 15th-century equivalent of LinkedIn thought leadership posts. Scholars at the time complained that there was simply too much to read. Too much information. Too many opinions. Sound familiar?

Reproduction of a Gutenberg-era printing press

Image: Reproduction of a Gutenberg-era press at the Printing History Museum in Lyon, France. Photograph by George H. Williams, via Wikimedia Commons.

Fast forward to the late 1800s. Electricity arrives. Not just as a concept, but as a roaring industrial wave. Factories rewire. City streets get lit up. People panic about whether sleeping near electrical wires would kill them in their beds. Newspapers ran think pieces about "the overstimulation of modern life." Meanwhile, the telegraph was already making people anxious about the speed of information. Sound familiar? Again?

Early electric street lighting

Image: Carl Saltzmann, "Erste elektrische Straßenbeleuchtung," a historical depiction of early electric street lighting, via Wikimedia Commons.


The pattern is always the same. A major wave of innovation crashes in. Everyone gets soaked. A period of chaos and confusion follows. Then, slowly, the water settles, and the world is measurably better than it was before. Infant mortality drops. Literacy explodes. Life expectancy doubles. We look back and say: of course that was good. But when you are inside the wave, it is nearly impossible to think straight.

The Current Flood Has a Name

We are, as of right now, inside one of the most compressed innovation waves in human history. And its name, in case you have been living off-grid in a yurt, which honestly sounds appealing at this point, is Artificial Intelligence.

Every morning you wake up and there are seventeen new AI tools in your inbox. Someone on LinkedIn has discovered that an AI wrote their quarterly report in four seconds. Someone else has built an AI agent that schedules meetings, answers emails, and apparently also does the laundry if you prompt it correctly. There are articles titled things like "10 AI Tools That Will Replace Your Entire Team by Thursday" and YouTube channels dedicated exclusively to reviewing AI tools that were already replaced by other AI tools before the video finished rendering.

The noise is deafening. The wave is angry. And most people are not swimming, they are just tumbling, arms flailing, occasionally grabbing onto a floating piece of content before it gets swept away too.

The good news? This has all happened before. The bad news? Nobody handed out a survival guide then either. So here is one now.

Historical telegraph chart

Image: H. H. Lloyd & Co., "Telegraph chart," 1858, via Wikimedia Commons. Long before AI, information networks were already compressing time and distance.

A 3-Step Framework for Swimming, Not Drowning

Step 1: Stop Collecting. Start Using.

The first mistake people make during an innovation wave is becoming a hoarder of novelty. They bookmark forty-seven AI tools. They subscribe to twelve newsletters about prompt engineering. They install extensions, create accounts, and then proceed to use exactly none of it.

There is a name for this. It is called innovation tourism. You visit the sights, take a few photos, and go home without actually learning the language.

The antidote is embarrassingly simple: pick one tool that solves one real problem you have right now, and use it until you genuinely understand what it can and cannot do. Not what the demo video claims it can do. What it actually does when you throw your real, messy, non-demo life at it.

When electricity arrived, the businesses that won were not the ones who read the most articles about electrification. They were the ones who replaced one gas lamp with one electric bulb and observed what happened next.

Step 2: Filter by Problem, Not by Hype

Here is a diagnostic question worth tattooing somewhere you will see it regularly: What specific problem am I trying to solve?

Not "how do I stay current?" Not "how do I not get left behind?" A concrete, nameable problem. The kind that costs you actual time or money or sleep on a Tuesday night.

Most of the AI content flooding your feeds is not organized by the problems it solves. It is organized by what is exciting, what is new, what generates clicks, and what makes the author look like they are ahead of the curve. This is not useful information architecture for you.

Build your own filter. When a new tool or article appears, ask: does this solve a problem I actually have? If yes, park it somewhere sensible and revisit it when that problem is next in front of you. If no, let it flow past you. The river does not stop. You do not have to catch every fish.

The printing press eventually gave us the scientific journal, a structured way to organize knowledge by domain and problem. We are still waiting for that equivalent in AI. In the meantime, you have to be your own editor.

Step 3: Protect Your Thinking Time

This one is less obvious but probably the most important.

The real danger of an innovation flood is not ignorance. It is cognitive congestion. When you are consuming at maximum capacity, articles, threads, podcasts, tool reviews, hot takes, you have no mental bandwidth left for the thing that actually matters: your own judgment.

History's most effective innovators during chaotic periods were not the most voracious consumers of new information. They were the ones who created deliberate pockets of stillness to process what they had absorbed. Darwin took long walks. Newton apparently needed a pandemic lockdown to do his best thinking, which, in retrospect, is both inspiring and mildly concerning.

You do not need to go full Luddite. You do not need to move to the woods. But you do need to protect some portion of your day from the incoming flood. No notifications. No refreshing. Just you, your actual work, and the thinking required to make good decisions.

The Wave Will Settle. It Always Does.

Here is the thing about innovation waves: they always look catastrophic from inside. The chaos is real. The overwhelm is real. But on the other side of every wave is a world where what seemed impossibly complex becomes the new normal, and people in the future will marvel at how much we struggled with something so obvious.

The printing press did not destroy knowledge. It democratized it. Electricity did not fry everyone in their beds. It extended the productive day. AI will not replace everything by Thursday, despite what the LinkedIn post claims.

The wave is real. The flood is real. But the swimmers who make it to the other side are not the ones who tried to outswim the ocean. They are the ones who picked a direction, kept their head above water, and did not panic every time a new wave came in.

Which, if you think about it, is just good advice in general.

Stay curious. Stay selective. Stay dry.

Wajdi

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