Reading the Terrain
Why noticing the terrain matters more than choosing the “right” tool
I invest some time each day into staying current on specific topics, including the ever-changing landscape of AI.
This weekend, I read several articles by different people about their respective experiences using some of the more popular AI tools, like ChatGPT, Claude, and Google’s Gemini.
What stood out immediately was a growing division among users about which Gen AI tool is better—and why.
One man, in particular, wrote a long piece about why he recently deleted the ChatGPT app from his phone and mainframe computer. His reasons were sound.
First, he’d noticed a decline in his ability to think for himself and he didn’t like what he was noticing. With instant answers a quick prompt away, he’d fallen into the trap tools like ChatGPT set for anyone who ventures into its ecosystem looking for fast, frictionless output.
Next, he explained that had been using the free version for the last three years, and OpenAI is now going to start rolling out ads on the free version, which definitely presents a potential conflict of interest. Something he also doesn’t like. When a user inputs prompts, he argued, they are giving the tool data in the free version that the tool can then use to personalize ads and drive sales.
His big argument, at the end of the day, is that any time a platform takes on ad space, they automatically enter the enshittification phase of their platform.
He’s not wrong.
He also pointed out that, like everything else in life now, the gulf between people who can afford to pay for ad-free use of a tool like ChatGPT versus people who can’t or won’t and who will therefore be subjected to a slew of ads will grow wider.
I understand this argument. We’ve seen this film before, haven’t we? It happened to Facebook. It happened to blogs. It happened to YouTube.
At the end of the day, all of these platforms are businesses that are required to show a profit each quarter and fiscal year. It’s no different than your local coffee shop. Or the company you work for. Or your own business if you work for yourself.
A business needs to see a profit at the end of the day or why be in business at all? It doesn’t make sense for something to keep going if it’s bleeding money.
And yet, there’s an attitude these days—particularly about AI—rooted in an underlying expectation that these things are supposed to just be given to us, and that we shouldn’t have to pay.
In other commercial worlds, this phenomenon has been called the Walmart effect—rolling back prices. An earlier version of enshittification. Give it to me cheap. Give it to me for as little as possible and oh, while you’re at it, make it the highest quality you can, okay? Some people go through life like that, always looking for “the deal.”
I’m not here to judge anyone who thinks that way.
What I am doing is observing different behaviors around money mindset—especially in the algorithmic space. I’m noticing what kinds of expectations people have, including me.
One of the through lines of my book, It’s Not You, It’s the Algorithm, is my experience over fifteen years of showing up to emerging digital systems that were developed, deployed, and then quietly woven into the fabric of everyday life—where the exchange is not even.
Now, you could argue that no exchange is ever completely even. That’s fair. Sometimes one person gives more than the other because of capacity.
But in the context of technology, there is growing evidence that the companies running these platforms—who depend on users to show up and validate their existence—do so without any real reciprocity.
This is the breakdown.
This is the breakdown I experienced, and it’s the breakdown I’m seeing more and more people beginning to articulate.
I see people on Instagram, for example, posting that they’re closing their accounts because the algorithm has made them essentially invisible. I see musicians saying they’re taking their music down from Spotify because the payout per stream is insulting.
I see people pointing out that the accounts receiving the most engagement are often not accounts built organically from the ground up, but those belonging to people who already had a following, an audience, a fan base—and who simply brought that fan base with them.
That’s the difference.
And like any other entrepreneurial venture, building something of significance in the algorithmic space requires a lot of work including diligence, persistence, and consistency with absolutely no guarantee of success.
Yet, because of the way these systems are presented—very in your face, with constant exposure—they do something else. They lull people into thinking, Oh, I can win at this too. If I just do this, then I will get that.
That’s a very common phrase tossed around in the tech space: If this, then that.
We want the math to work. *If I show up and post, then I will get—*fill in the blank—paying customers, people liking me, invitations to speak, podcast interviews, television appearances.
And yes, there are the stories of the early discoveries. In the artistic community, people often point to Justin Bieber or Billie Eilish, both of whom can trace their early success to being found.
That’s the ultimate dream for many: I will be found.
I don’t have to go out and seek. I don’t have to do the uncomfortable work. Someone will find me.
It’s the same rescue fantasy that built an entire romance empire and fueled nearly every Disney movie until they started reversing the scripts.
And yet, this undercurrent—someone will find me; someone will rescue me and make my life great—still runs quietly beneath modern life.
Until you can read that terrain and see it for what it is, you will be influenced by it, primarily unconsciously. The decisions you make will be driven by that unconscious programming.
Every time you scroll a social platform, check your email, or skim a text thread, that undercurrent is there—forming thoughts and feelings, which then shape actions and decisions.
It takes work to examine yourself and your life that closely—to become truly self-aware—which is why most people won’t do it. It’s too much work.
Besides, for the most part, if you follow along the well-worn path already laid out before you, life probably won’t be that bad.
I’m not wired like that. There are days I wish I was. There are days I wish I were wired for an average life.
But I believe we’re not here to be average, that this life offers opportunities that require more of us than settling for the status quo.
And yes, it’s hard. I have failed. I’ve set goals and had dreams that didn’t come to fruition. I’ve had expectations dashed, especially in the online space. I’ve been disappointed many times.
But that doesn’t stop me from seeing—when I wake up each morning—that I get another day to live an exceptional life.
To live like I fucking mean it.
And maybe that’s the prize.
People older and wiser than me say it is. When I read their books, when I listen to podcasts and hear the same message repeated again and again, I hear the truth about what it takes to rise above average to live an extraordinary life.
If that includes deleting apps from the phone, or walking away from ChatGPT because it’s original promise no longer aligns with your expectations, so be it.
That’s what learning to read the terrain is all about.