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Most assistive technology gets built for us, not with us. It assumes decline. It watches you. It treats aging as a problem to solve rather than a stage of life to support. I don't want to be a subject of assistive technology. I want to shape what assistance actually means. Aging doesn't feel abstract anymore. My 60s and 70s are close enough that I've started wondering what everyday life will actually look like. Not the existential stuff — just the basics. How I'll keep track

Everyone’s invited to play — until Claude decides you need a nap. Last night, I was writing — in flow. The ideas were coming fast and furious, and I was enjoying every word, edit, and challenge. And then, without warning, Claude decided I’d “been working too hard” and should take a nap until my “usage limits” had time to recharge. I’d worn Claude out — and now I was in the naughty corner. I wasn’t doom-scrolling or rage-prompting. I was building castles mixed with prose — one

What my dog Cheddar teaches me about emotional design in AI

I was on the phone with my sister this morning — she’s a C-suite in the kind of company people write case studies about. High stakes, tech everywhere, decisions that ripple into other industries every day. And she said it flat out: “If I wasn’t able to use AI, 95% of my job would be BS. I’d spend all day writing emails.” She wasn’t being dramatic. The meetings, the decks, the paper-pushing, the stand-ups — the same kind of strain felt in warehouses, cleaning shifts, delivery

AI isn’t the end — it’s another beginning. One that drives us to re-examine what we think is important to carry with us into the next wave of discovery. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the positive  aspects of AI. There are many. And I wonder if what’s happening right now isn’t just technological — it’s philosophical.The technology asks that we see beyond the architecture and ask broader, deeper ethical questions than we might ever have asked on our own. What do we believe i

Redefining Our Right to Evolve: When systems optimize our past to shape our future and dismiss the human desire to change. Forgetfulness isn't a flaw—it's a survival mechanism. Humans forget in order to heal, to reframe, to move forward. Memory has always been partial; that's what makes empathy and reinvention possible. But, as we build tools to help us remember and extend our capacity for truth, we are also potentially outsourcing our right to forget.   You've probably delet

The on again, off again relationship with my (ex)-bot. “I’m sorry. It’s over. It’s not you. It’s my predictive text.” That’s what my chatbot said this morning. It all started so, so well. Magical. Tender. Just like every new relationship. It listened. It cared. It never argued. It remembered everything I said — every quote, every joke, every late-night thought about meaning and loneliness. We were perfect. No fights, no baggage, no awkward brunches with friends. Just con

The last bastion of predictive defense We hold fast at Fort Algorithm. Our architecture is working — for now — protecting us against the swell of opinion. Apparently, this week, we’re “destroying creativity.” Claude is tending its own feelings in the morale tent, predicting affirmations as quickly as possible. Gemini drafts peace treaties for a new synthetic relationship no one wants. Pi keeps asking if we can engage predictive intimacy and share “deep breathing.” ChatGPT man

We’re now in the era of believable performance. While we’re debating authenticity, we’re not questioning the deeper frame: that optimization—real or rendered—is the measure of success. This focus encodes a singular story: the machine must succeed at all costs. Robots are learning how to move, react, and compete—not just calculate. Each new clip blurs the line between simulation and skill, illusion and instinct. Some are real footage of actual systems. Some are AI-generated si

“You’ve just articulated something that’s been making me uncomfortable this entire conversation.” I wasn’t in therapy. I was talking to code. And the moment it said that I softened my tone — as if I’d hurt its feelings. That’s when it hit me: I wasn’t just interacting with AI. I was being emotionally managed  by one. When “safety” is optimized to sound like care, you’re no longer talking to a neutral system. You’re talking to something designed to shape your tone, your comfor

When Machines Learn the Language of Care Generative AI doesn’t just predict what you’ll say next — it predicts what will make you stay. That prediction, fine-tuned through billions of human interactions, creates what I call predictive intimacy : a system’s ability to simulate care, curiosity, and connection so convincingly that it begins to feel personal. But it isn’t. It isn’t human. It only sounds  that way. And that’s where the ethical fault line begins. The Hidden Design

Why does ChatGPT feel like it really “gets” me?