AI at Three: Are We Still Thinking for Ourselves?

AI at Three: Are We Still Thinking for Ourselves?

 

 

Three years ago, on a quiet Australian evening at the end of November 2022, I opened a browser tab, typed “ChatGPT” and fell down a rabbit hole.

What looked like a clever party trick now sits inside almost every screen we touch.
It writes, codes, designs, answers emails, joins meetings, and offers to “think” for us while we make a coffee.

In just 36 months we moved from clunky GPT‑3 guesses to multimodal systems that listen, speak, watch, and generate video on demand.
On one side you have GPT‑5 and its cousins baked into productivity suites and operating systems.
On the other, Google’s Gemini stack now spins out images, videos, and live voice conversations as easily as a teenager scrolls TikTok.

AI grew from toy to infrastructure in about the same time it takes a toddler to stop falling over and start raiding the kitchen drawers.
That speed should excite you.
It should also scare you.

Because the real story of the last three years is not just about what the machines can now do.
It is about what we have quietly stopped doing in our own heads.

The brain’s original productivity stack

Our brains came with a built‑in performance optimisation system long before anyone wrote an API.
Evolution tuned us to manage cognitive load.
We ignore most of what hits our senses, notice the noisy or dangerous bits, and save deep thinking for the moments that matter.

Daniel Kahneman’s System 1 and System 2 language still earns its keep.
System 1 reacts fast, with stories, shortcuts, and habits.
System 2 turns up late, asks annoying questions, and burns a lot of glucose.
Most days we spend our time trying to get through life with as little System 2 effort as possible.

AI slots neatly into that wiring.
It feels like the perfect extension of System 1.
You type a vague prompt, it hands you a fluent answer.
No sweat, no friction, no uncomfortable silence while your own brain strains to find the words.

That convenience is the real seduction.
It doesn’t just save time; it removes the discomfort that usually forces us to think.

From go‑kart to Formula One

When I first wrote about ChatGPT in late 2022, I compared it to moving from a dinghy to a hydrofoiling catamaran.
The old chatbots the banks abused us with felt like wobbly go‑karts compared to this new Formula One car.

Back then, the outputs wobbled as well.
We all laughed at confident nonsense and obvious hallucinations, and the smart users treated it as a useful idiot.
Good at grunt work, dreadful at judgement.

Three years on, the idiot has become frighteningly competent at the grunt work.
You can hand it a video, a spreadsheet, three PDFs, and a cryptic prompt, and it will respond with a structured summary, charts, and a draft board paper.
In marketing, tools that Christopher Penn and others have championed now automate analysis that once absorbed whole analytics teams.
In social media land, Michael Stelzner’s tribes test and adopt AI helpers across content planning, scheduling, and reporting.
The scaffolding of digital work now assumes an AI layer.

The productivity upside is obvious.
Small teams now do work that once demanded a department.
Solo consultants carry an army of junior analysts in their laptop.
The cost of running experiments, simulating scenarios, and visualising ideas has collapsed.

The upside: a cognitive exoskeleton

Used well, AI behaves like a cognitive exoskeleton.
It doesn’t replace your muscles; it lets you lift more.

You can:

  • Ask better questions and get a structured first pass at the answers.
  • Stress‑test your strategy by asking a model to argue the opposite case.
  • Turn messy meeting transcripts into actions, risks, and decisions.
  • Compress a week’s background reading into an evening.

For curious people, this remains a golden age.
If you bring a clear point of view, a half‑decent mental model, and a willingness to challenge the output, AI expands your reach.
You see more, faster.
You turn half‑formed hunches into interrogated options.

This is the optimistic story I see from the best AI practitioners.
Penn talks about clear use cases, measurement, and governance.
Stelzner urges marketers to become the AI expert inside their organisation rather than the victim of it.
Mark Schaefer reminds us that in a world of infinite content, only the work grounded in real human insight and community connection stands a chance.

Treat AI as leverage on your thinking, and you win.
Treat it as a substitute for thinking, and you slide quietly into trouble.

The downside: content shock on steroids

The economics of content changed long before ChatGPT.
Mark Schaefer called the problem “Content Shock” a decade ago: content supply would eventually exceed human attention, and the returns to yet another blog post would fall off a cliff.

Gen‑AI turned that slow trend into a vertical line.
The cost of creating “something that looks like content” has collapsed towards zero.
You can train a model on your brand voice, press one button, and watch it spit out a month of LinkedIn posts, emails, and scripts.

The web now fills with beige word‑soup.
Technically correct.
Emotionally vacant.
Indistinguishable from the next post in the feed.

Lazy prompts produce lazy answers.
Lazy answers tempt lazy publishing.
Lazy publishing teaches audiences to ignore everything.

Most of what passes for AI‑generated thought leadership is the intellectual equivalent of supermarket white bread.
Easy to slice, melts in the mouth, leaves you hungry ten minutes later.

For strategists and marketers, this matters.
If you turn your brain off and let the prompt box rule your calendar, you don’t just waste time.
You train your customers to expect nothing of you.

The deeper risk: turning off the tools in our heads

The part that bothers me most at AI’s third birthday is not the hallucinations, the copyright fights, or even the job displacement.
It is the quiet atrophy of judgement.

Our evolved cognitive tools do several important jobs:

  • They force us to sit with ambiguity instead of rushing to an answer.
  • They nudge us to compare new information with our lived experience.
  • They help us detect bullshit: in others, and in ourselves.

Every time we outsource those jobs to a model, we rob our System 2 of practice.
We still get an answer, but we no longer earn it.

It feels efficient in the moment.
In the long run, it erodes the very muscles that strategy and leadership rely on.

Worse, AI answers arrive wrapped in the fluency of natural language.
They sound like us.
They sound like authority.
That fluency can smuggle untested assumptions, shallow reasoning, and comforting half‑truths straight past our defences.

Three years in, I see two diverging paths:

  • People who use AI to expand their curiosity, test their thinking, and widen their circle of competence.
  • People who use AI to avoid the discomfort of thinking altogether.

Both groups think they are being more productive.
Only one group is actually becoming more capable.

The economics and the power shift

There is another angle to AI at three that we usually duck. The money.

In three years we have concentrated astonishing economic power into a very small group of firms. A handful of hyperscalers, one or two chip designers, and a short list of frontier labs now sit in front of almost every serious AI workload. Everyone else rents from them.

The scale of the bet looks heroic. Trillions in planned data‑centre and chip spending, and a market that prices the leaders as if they will own that future for decades. You can call that confidence. You can also call it a hostage note written to the next interest‑rate cycle.

Take the current market darlings. The world’s favourite chip supplier books tens of billions in revenue and trades at several trillion in market value. A leading frontier lab chases double‑digit billions in annualised revenue while it still burns oceans of cash on compute. These are real businesses with real customers, but the step between those numbers and their valuations contains a huge block of hope.

We have been here before in a softer form. Around 1970 most of the value in large listed companies sat in things you could touch: plant, property, inventory. Twenty‑five years later that picture had flipped. Intangibles – brands, patents, software, customer relationships – carried most of the market value, and the accountants struggled to keep up.

AI pushes that logic to an extreme. The market is not just pricing current earnings. It is trying to price the option value of owning the picks and shovels for the next general‑purpose technology. In that world traditional ratios look broken, yet sooner or later cash flow still matters. Hope does not pay for electricity.

So are we in a bubble? My answer: not quite, but we are definitely out over our skis. The technology is real and the revenues are non‑trivial, unlike much of the dot‑com era. At the same time, the capital going in and the valuations attached to it assume a smooth path to dominance that history rarely grants.

For strategists and boards the question is not, “Is Nvidia or OpenAI overvalued?” You and I do not control that outcome. The better question is, “If AI infrastructure ends up concentrated in a few platforms, where do we want to sit in that stack, and how much bargaining power will we have?” If you ignore that question, you will find your future margins decided in someone else’s data centre.

A third‑birthday challenge

So where do we land, three years after Chattie kicked off the AI party?

On balance, I still count myself as an optimist.
The tools have already changed how I research, model, and communicate.
They have improved decision quality in businesses that choose to interrogate their assumptions rather than decorate them.

But optimism without discipline becomes delusion.

If AI turns into just another way to avoid hard thinking, we will get a short‑term productivity sugar‑hit followed by a long‑term loss of capability.
We will trade the craft of judgement for the convenience of a cursor.

My challenge to clients, and to myself, at AI’s third birthday looks something like this:

  1. Write the first page yourself.
    Before you open a model, force your own brain to articulate the problem, the context, and your best first answer.
  2. Use AI as a devil’s advocate, not a rubber stamp.
    Ask it to attack your favourite idea, not simply refine it.
  3. Refuse to publish first drafts.
    If an AI system writes something for you, treat it as scaffolding.
    Pull it apart, rebuild it, and add the scars of your own experience.
  4. Keep one craft sacred.
    Choose at least one discipline – writing, interviewing, analysing numbers, designing experiments – that you refuse to automate completely.
    That is where your edge will live.
  5. Stay interested.
    Curiosity is the one trait the machines cannot fake.
    The moment you stop asking, “What is really going on here?” you hand your agency to an algorithm.

AI at three is noisy, uneven, and moving faster than the regulators and board papers can track.
It will get smarter, more capable, and more deeply embedded over the next three years.

The question worth asking is not, “What will the next model be able to do?”
The better question is, “What will I still insist on doing with my own brain?”

NOTE: The post is entirely AI. That is a first for me, something I have avoided, as generally entirely AI written posts are of little value.

While I have used AI to research posts, and help me fill in holes in logic, I have never just posted output without extremely heavy editing.

It seems AI has actually increased the time it takes me to get a post to publishable form. Not the expected outcome.

The reason is there is so much AI slop out there, mangled, generic stuff that adds little if anything to the intellectual capital I am trying to feed, but it blots out the originality I strive for. While AI is a great helper, it is in  no way a creative one.  To stand out amongst the slop, each post now takes more time than three or four years ago.

However, it is getting better every day. Theis post was done after I dictated a number of disconnected ideas that had been rattling around without much form, or hope of becoming anything useful. So, I dictated into Chat, and the output is there for you to judge.

In my view, it needs some editing!!

 

The most powerful force in marketing is not AI-it’s trust!

The most powerful force in marketing is not AI-it’s trust!

 

Marketing loves a revolution, preferably one with fireworks, a celebrity CMO, and a paid Gartner report showing a hockey stick. Every new technology arrives promising to rewrite the laws of business.

Meanwhile, the laws never change.

Newton had it right centuries ago: every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Marketing keeps proving him right. The faster we chase shiny new digital tactics, the harder the pendulum swings back to the fundamentals we pretended we no longer needed.

The Hype Machine vs. Reality

AI evangelists shout that everything has changed. They’re half‑right. The tools have changed. The speed has changed. The expectation of real‑time response has changed.

But the bedrock?

Know your customer, serve them relentlessly, and build trust you don’t squander.

Peter Drucker’s reminder rings louder than ever: The purpose of marketing is to create a customer.

That was true before AI, it will be true long after whatever replaces AI evolves.

Newton’s First Law: Brands That Stay in Motion… Stay in Motion

A brand with momentum earns attention even when the tools shift. Strong positioning and consistent storytelling generate their own gravity.

Campaigns used to last years. Now we rotate creative at the speed of TikTok. But the brands that last, the ones that compound mental availability play the long game.

Eyeballs come from activation.

Profit comes from brand.

The long term enables the short term. Always has, always will.

Newton’s Second Law: Force = Mass x Acceleration

Digital acceleration gives marketers more force: faster cycle times, instant metrics, and dashboards that look scientific.

The result?

Everyone is reacting. No one is thinking creatively from first principles, and trust is the casualty.

Trust is earned by performance as promised — repeatedly, and can be lost in one failed moment. That hasn’t changed since merchants first haggled in a marketplace.

Newton’s Third Law: Every Action Sparks a Reaction

The more we optimise for clicks, the more customers lose patience.

The more noise we make, the more deaf they become.

This is why brand building matters more today than ever, not less.

It gives people a reason to care before you give them a reason to click.

The fact that it is much harder to build a successful brand today amongst the tsunami of competition for attention makes success more rewarding when it is achieved.

Proof From the Pub

Advertising platforms come and go. Positioning endures.

Remember the Tooheys ads from the early eighties? “I feel like a Tooheys.” A social beer for a social moment. That construct worked because it tapped into a universal truth: reward, mateship, the end‑of‑day ritual.

Three decades later, after a long hiatus, the idea and variation on the 40 year old execution still works. The brand physics didn’t change. The accountants who inherited the brand 30 years ago did not know these basic laws of market positioning. However, it seems a marketer is back in the drivers seat, as the positioning is being renewed.

The Only Trend That Never Ends

Every marketer faces the same trade‑off: harvest now, or plant for later.

Short‑term activation makes the CFO smile.

Long‑term brand keeps the organisation alive.

Ignore the fundamentals and you may win the sprint, but keep them central and you’ll win the marathon.

The more things change in marketing, the more they stay the same.

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

A Final Thought

If you want to avoid being whiplashed by every new tactic dressed up as a strategy, bring someone to the table who has lived through enough hype cycles to recognise what actually moves the needle.

A wise old head. With battle scars. Who knows where the shortcuts lead — and where the traps are hidden.

Give me a call before you change everything… and accidentally change nothing for the better.

 

 

 

 

The Five strategic truths of FMCG marketing.

The Five strategic truths of FMCG marketing.

I’ve been marketing to consumers for 50 years. Success seems to become more illusionary every day. The process has become complex beyond the ability of any mortal to fully grasp, yet it is us that have made it so in the search for some ‘differentiator’.

In reality, it is very simple.

The value chain has evolved to a small number of strategic choices that need to be made. After all, there are only two gorillas and a strongly growing chimp between you, the marketer, and them, the consumer.

It is the complexity of the available tactical choices that consume most of the time, energy, and money.

My advice is to step back and consider the few factors that will make a real difference and save the money on the rest. Recognise the things you can control and control them. Acknowledge the things you cannot control and prepare for both surprises and disappointments.

Weight of distribution.

Supermarkets control the point of consumer purchase. Your task is to generate as much weight of distribution as you can for a given investment. It doesn’t matter how great the ad might be, how many ‘influencers’ you might employ, and how many channels you pay for the messages to be carried, if it’s not on shelf a consumer cannot buy it.

Consider your WOD in two dimensions: depth and breadth, and never compromise breadth for depth. 100% weight of distribution in Sydney only will always be better than 50% in NSW. It is not just the number of potential customers you may reach, but the availability when they are in a store, pushing a trolley, that counts

Consumers do not care.

The consumer is not interested in your beautifully crafted brand strategy, the sales deck you recite to the buyers, or the research that tells you the new pack design will clean up in the market. They simply do not care.

Consumers are just looking for the product that solves the problem, delivers a desired outcome. Yours will be one of many products claiming to deliver value, in which case yours must solve the problem better than any alternative in some way, on the day the consumer is in front of the shelf, contemplating a purchase.

Brand awareness is a red herring.

Having high brand awareness is useless unless it is relevant. Everybody is aware of Coca Cola, but not everybody is in the market for Coca Cola when they are in a supermarket. What is important is that when a consumer is in the market for a particular type of product, yours is the one that comes to mind that is most relevant to the current situation. Academics call it ‘mental availability’. What it really means is that when that illusionary consumer is contemplating buying a tub of margarine, a bottle of hot sauce, a box of washing powder, or a soft drink, your brand is the one that jumps to the front of their mind as the best option.

Focus kills wide frontal.

Focus trumps general every time. Spreading your marketing budget across multiple channels and many types of content might feel good but it is a waste of most of the money. Understanding your customer well enough to focus your resources to generate that vital mental availability in the right context is far more efficient.

It is the difference between the trench warfare of the western front, and the blitzkrieg in the identical locations a generation later.

Social proof.

Word of mouth has always been, and will always be, the most powerful form of marketing. People trust other people, particularly people they know (sometimes knowing works in the opposite direction) much more than they trust any form of paid communication. The conversation over the back fence will convert to a purchase much more often than a glossy ad. It takes longer, it takes patience, and a solid strategy, but it ‘sticks’. Robert Cialdini coined the term Social Proof 45 years ago. It is now more critical to success that it has ever been, living as we do in a world suffering from a tsunami off AI generated slop. genuine social proof is where the marketing gold lies hidden.

Get those five things right, and you will have a good chance of winning. Four out of five, and you are on borrowed time.

Comedy, Copernicus, and the Curse of Agreement

Comedy, Copernicus, and the Curse of Agreement

 

If everyone in the room agrees, you are probably all wrong. Innovation does not come from consensus; it comes from the friction created by different ideas and perspectives.

If you listen to comedians, there is a common thread through everything they say. A friend of mine who does a bit of fun standup calls it the ‘1,2,5’ of conversation. The first statement sets the scene, the second reinforces the first, the next is entirely unexpected. It is not the obvious ‘3’, rather, it is oblique, often the opposite, and always a surprise. The laugh, or in my friends case, occasional quiet chuckle, comes from that unexpected punchline.

Consider the survival chances in a hostile environment of two groups of people.

One is a homogenous group, that automatically sees things in a similar way.

The second is a neurologically diverse group that sees things from different perspectives.

Which is the more likely to survive that hostile environment?

This leads to the obvious but often ignored idea that the way you make up the groups in your business requires some heretics, comedians, and philosophers.

Rather than randomly allocating people to a group tasked to undertake a specific challenge, would it not be better to ensure you have a neurologically diverse group undertake it, as they are way more likely to surface new, different ideas. Some of those ideas, even most, may be absolute crap, but it just takes one to deliver the idea that changes everything.

Nicholas Copernicus presented the idea that the earth was not the centre of the universe, using Galileo’s newly invented telescope. This led to him being excommunicated for heresy by the Catholic church. Later, he was proved right, which did not help him. In time however, it helped the rest of us as it completely changed the way we think.

Every new idea starts as a heresy noted 19th century philosopher Thomas Huxley.

If you want these ideas that are often extremely inconvenient, to emerge from your group, you need to work for them.

Header: The eyepiece of Galileo’s telescope

 

 

Don’t sell, create a solution to their problem.

Don’t sell, create a solution to their problem.

 

 

Most sales processes, as distinct from the marketing task of lead generation, assumes the leads are already at least partly ‘on the hook’. They know what they want, they just need a clear, easy path to getting it. So, we map the journey, smooth the bumps, clear the friction, and jump to the close.

More often than not, people are faced with a situation, problem, some unmet need, and do not have a specific shopping list or even time-frame in which the nascent problem needs to be solved.

They want more time with family, lower costs, less complication, greater transparency, in other words, an outcome rather than a product.

In these common circumstances, calling them a “customer” or even ‘potential customer’ too early is a mistake. It leads to thinking “How do we get them to buy our thing?” rather than “How do we help them solve the problem they have.

Our first task is to adequately define the problem to be solved, the context to be addressed.

Language matters. The words we use shape what we see, feel, and think, and drives others to conclusions. The word “customer” has a lot of baggage in the heads of most sales and marketing people.

When my son and his wife were expecting my first grandchild, they needed a more family-oriented vehicle that easily accommodated the baby capsule his beloved coupe could not.

Not getting enough sleep? is it the mattress, partner snoring, stress keeping you awake, or the truck air brakes on the hill outside the bedroom?

It is hard to know the circumstances of the shape of the opportunity and the manner in which you should approach it in the absence of the individual detail.

Jumping too early to a conclusion based on some avatar, template, or generic sales funnel will just ensure you miss the real opportunity. This comes from being able to specifically articulate their problem and the opportunity to describe how your solution delivers the desired outcome better than any alternative.

Ditch the generic lens and start by considering the range of possible contexts and their individual solutions. That’s where the creative insights that make the sale for you hide.

Situations create a buyer.

Needs that cover a huge range from pressing physical needs to keeping up with the Jones’s create a buyer.

People with credit cards extended are the outcome.

This is not just a semantic shift, it is the difference between the hard sell and having them come to you already sold.

 

Header credit: The great ‘marketoonist’ Tom Fishburne