This post raises genuine concerns about the integration of large language models into creative and technical work, and the author writes with evident passion about what they perceive as a threat to human autonomy and craft. BUT… the piece suffers from internal contradictions, selective reasoning, and rhetorical moves that undermine its own arguments in ways worth examining carefully.

My opinion: This sort of low-evidence writing is all too common in tech circles. It makes me wish computer science and engineering majors were forced to spend at least one semester doing nothing but the arts.

The most striking inconsistency emerges in how the author frames the people who use LLM tools. Early in the piece, colleagues experimenting with AI coding assistants are described in the language of addiction and pathology: they are “sucked into the belly of the vibecoding grind,” experiencing “existential crisis,” engaged in “harmful coping.” The comparison to watching a friend develop a drinking problem is explicit and damning. This framing treats AI adoption as a personal failure, a weakness of character, a moral lapse. Yet only paragraphs later, the author pivots to acknowledging that people are “forced to use these systems” by bosses, UI patterns, peer pressure, and structural disadvantages in school and work. They even note their own privilege in being able to abstain. These two framings cannot coexist coherently. If using AI tools is coerced by material circumstances and power structures, then the addiction metaphor is not just inapt but cruel — it assigns individual blame for systemic conditions. The author wants to have it both ways: to morally condemn users while also absolving them as victims of circumstance.

This tension extends to the author’s treatment of their own social position. Having acknowledged that abstention from LLMs requires privilege, they nonetheless continue to describe AI adoption as a “brainworm” that has infected even “progressive hacker circles.” The disgust is palpable. But if avoiding these tools is a luxury, then expressing contempt for those who cannot afford that luxury is inconsistent at best and self-congratulatory at worst. The acknowledgment of privilege becomes a ritual disclaimer rather than something that actually modifies the moral judgments being rendered.

The author’s claims about intentionality represent another significant weakness. The assertion that AI systems being resource-intensive “is not a side effect — it’s the point” is presented as revelation, but it functions as an unfalsifiable claim. No evidence is offered that anyone designed these systems to be resource-hungry as a mechanism of control. The technical requirements of training large models, competitive market pressure to scale, and the emergent dynamics of venture capital investment all offer more parsimonious explanations that don’t require attributing coordinated malicious intent. Similarly, the claim that “AI systems exist to reinforce and strengthen existing structures of power and violence” is stated as though it were established fact rather than contested interpretation. This is the central claim of the piece, and yet it receives no argument — it is simply asserted and then built upon, which amounts to begging the question.

The essay also suffers from a pronounced selection bias in its examples. Every person described using AI tools is in crisis, suffering, or compromised. No one uses them mundanely, critically, or with benefit. This creates a distorted picture that serves rhetorical purposes but does not reflect the range of actual use cases. The author’s friends who share their anti-AI sentiment are mentioned approvingly, establishing clear in-group and out-group boundaries. This is identity formation masquerading as analysis — good people resist, compromised people succumb.

There is a false dichotomy running through the piece that deserves attention. The implied choice is between the author’s total abstention, not touching LLMs “with a stick,” and being consumed by the pathological grind described earlier. No middle ground exists in this telling. The possibility of critical, limited, or thoughtful engagement with these tools is never acknowledged as legitimate. You are either pure or contaminated.

Reality doesn’t work this way! It’s not black and white. My take: AI is a transformative technology and the spectrum of uses and misuses of AI is vast and growing.

The philosophical core of their argument also contains an unexamined equivocation. The author invokes the extended cognition thesis — the idea that tools become part of us and shape who we are — to make AI seem uniquely threatening. But this same argument applies to every tool mentioned in the piece: hammers, pens, keyboards, dictionaries. The author describes their own fingers “flying over the keyboard, switching windows, opening notes, looking up words in a dictionary” as part of their extended cognitive process. If consulting a dictionary shapes thought and becomes part of our cognitive process, what exactly distinguishes that from asking a language model to check grammar or suggest a word? The author never establishes what makes AI categorically different from the other tools that have already become part of us. The danger is assumed rather than demonstrated.

There is also a genetic fallacy at work in the argument about power. The author suggests AI is bad partly because of who controls it — surveillance capitalists, fascists, those with enormous physical infrastructure. But this argument conflates the origin and ownership of a technology with its inherent properties. One could make identical arguments about the printing press, the telephone, or the internet itself. The question of whether these tools could be structured differently, owned differently, or used toward different ends is never engaged. Everything becomes evidence of a monolithic system of control.

Finally, there is an unacknowledged irony in the piece’s medium and advice. The author recommends spending less time on social media and reading books instead, while writing a blog post clearly designed for social sharing, complete with the vivid metaphors, escalating moral stakes, and calls to action that characterize viral content. The post exists within and depends upon the very attention economy it criticizes. This is not necessarily hypocrisy — we all must operate within systems we find problematic — but the lack of self-awareness about it is notable given how readily the author judges others for their compromises.

The essay is most compelling when it stays concrete: the phenomenology of writing as discovery, the real pressures workers face, the genuine concerns about who controls these systems and toward what ends. It is weakest when it reaches for grand unified theories of intentional domination, when it mistakes assertion for argument, and when it allows moral contempt to override the structural analysis it claims to offer. The author clearly cares about human flourishing and autonomy, but the piece would be stronger if that care extended more generously to those navigating these technologies without the privilege of refusal.