Humans have always told stories to entertain, protect, educate, market, control, delight, convert, and create.
It’s complicated. So I’ve simplified it for myself with three questions.
First Question: What’s the intent? Why is this story being told?
Some stories are playful. They invite humor, imagination, or connection. Milo’s wild ride in the snow lives here. No one was harmed or misled.
Some stories are protective, using humor as a shield or storytelling as a way to hold a boundary.
And some stories are manipulative. They seek advantage at another’s expense, meant to sell, control, inflame, extract, or deceive. Our world is full of these narratives, and with AI, they can be harder to spot.
Still, it’s worth remembering that AI doesn’t create intent. Humans bring intent to the tool.
Second Question: What’s the context? Where does this story live and with whom?
A fabricated image meant to delight is not the same as one used to distort consent, truth, or power.
Absurdity works on a playground or a stage. Metaphor belongs in art and education. Accuracy matters in medicine, courts, and aviation.
The same story can be harmless in one context and dangerous in another.
Right now, we’re living with massive context collapse.
When everything arrives on our screens looking equally important, information easily loses its framing, expertise, and relational cues. The answer isn’t to believe everything or to decide nothing can be trusted.
Discernment asks us to strengthen our contextual literacy.
Third Question: Who holds the power? Who benefits if this is believed? Who is impacted but can’t be heard?
A joke between friends isn’t the same as a narrative imposed on a population. The real danger isn’t fabrication itself. It’s distortion amplified by imbalance.
I understand fear and anger as responses to this messy moment, especially as people worry about the impact of AI on artists, livelihoods, education, the environment, and more.
But fear collapses discernment and anger flattens nuance.
Both push humans toward extremes and give away agency faster than any technology ever could.
Discernment, by contrast, requires a calm nervous system and a willingness to pause.
It asks simple questions: What’s being claimed? Who’s speaking? In what context? And what is being asked of me as I take this in?
As a wise human, you’re capable of asking these questions and choosing your response, including the choice to wait when something isn’t clear.
As for outsourcing creativity, critical thinking, or personal agency, that’s a human decision, not a demand made by AI. So it’s important to think for yourself before handing over that task to AI.
AI is very good at analytical intelligence: pattern recognition, extrapolation, prediction, optimization. Humans participate in a different kind of intelligence when they aren’t overwhelmed or constantly narrating experience. This natural intelligence arises through presence, attunement, coherence, relationship, and timing.
AI works with explicit pattern memory. Humans participate in living systems rich with nuance and meaning.
AI is a tool, an interface, a resource. It is not a human, a guru, a friend, or a conscience.
You choose how to use it, or not. You don’t have to hand over your agency, creativity, or natural intelligence to use a powerful tool.
Smiling at a picture of my dog wildly sledding down a snowy hill doesn’t diminish your capacity to create art, learn something new, share kindness, commune with nature, or embody wisdom.
So with all the harmful intent that has always existed in human history, remember this: don’t abandon your intelligence, your creativity, your heart, or your capacity to choose.
Stay curious. Stay relational. Stay human.
