I don’t believe everything I write

How I struggle with showing up authentically in the world

Mark Wiemer
4 min readMay 13, 2023
Cartoon of two brain people talking. One is asking a question, the other is sad.
I wish I were as cute as these nice little brain people. Their life seems so simple. Made with Bing Image Creator.

It’s Saturday morning and I’m anxiously living the good life. I have no obligations, no worries about food or housing, and I can call up any of my friends to play board games, video games, or just chat. I’ve even got plenty of good books to read, or I can take some time to write.

So I’ll take some time to write and share what’s on my mind, because this anxiety is a real bother.

About two weeks ago, I published “there are so many worlds to explore,” a nice, calming article about the value of taking deep breaths, prioritizing a bit, and diving in even if you’re feeling anxious. Like most writing I’m proud of, I wrote it for myself as much as my audience. The trouble is, it seems to wrap everything up, give it a nice bow, and imply that the audience should just move on. I reviewed that article several times before publishing, and I read it again just now.

I haven’t really been able to move on.

So, mostly, I’m writing this to share that even the super cool cats — you do think I’m a cool cat, right? — don’t fully internalize everything they’ve written even by the time they’ve published it.

It feels like truth, but it’s not a truth I believe right now.

Yes, it’s true that the world is always presenting me opportunities. But I’m not really OK with that. I’m stressed out by how many there are. I’m getting more and more worried that AI is moving too fast for its own good. I’m scared that there aren’t enough people writing and clarifying each development to soothe the growing public concerns around privacy, sentience, job loss, social damage, and more. Those concerns are real. They deserve to be addressed. And I’m trying. Kind of. I’m also just a guy living a life and I’m a bit scared too.

Leaders are supposed to project strength, right? Especially men. I’m a man. I should project strength, especially as a voice of “authority” or an almost-expert. I’m here to educate, to help, to guide — and people in that role shouldn’t show their own anxiety, their own concerns, their own frustrations, should they?

Maybe that’s why I’m making this a whole separate article.

I’m not strong right now. And I’m trying to be OK with that. But it’s not easy. It’s not as simple as waiting for tomorrow’s opportunity. I feel bad today. And I don’t like the idea that people might think I’ve magically gotten everything figured out.

I don’t know what the heck is going on.

As I near the end of this first draft, I’m realizing that it does feel so nice to give a happy ending to each article. I don’t want my audience to feel depressed. I don’t want me to feel depressed. I want an action item, something to do, something that gives me agency to relieve the tension, resolve the dissonance, make the world a better place.

There was a me that believed everything in that “worlds” article. And I’d like to have his strength, he seems like a real cool cat.

Do deep breaths count as an action item?

Let’s end on a story that’s not quite about me. This is all hitting a bit too close to home.

Computers understand everything the first time. You write one set of instructions, they follow it to the letter every single time for the rest of eternity. It’s quite convenient.

People don’t do that.

But you know what else people don’t do? They don’t take things extremely literally or explode if you forget a semi-colon. So there’s that.

Also, if you’ve set up a comfortable environment and you give a person the wrong instructions, that person will probably question you. That’s where the beauty of people lies. Sometimes, of course, they’ll question the “right” instructions, but that’s where you get to help them understand — in a way much more profound than computers — why you’ve made the decision to move forward with this course of action versus that one. And that’s a wonderful thing. Once they understand, they’ll be able to suggest future plans and help you and the team do even cooler things.

I don’t mean to say that computers can’t or never will be able to do these things. But in this new age of AI, it’s refreshing to know that when someone calls me an idiot, there’s a real person there who’s taken the time to get to know me, is worried about backlash, is hoping their friendly tone came across, and is concerned about the quality of the project we’re working on.

I think that’s today’s action item.

Go find a friend and call them an idiot. 🤓

Thank you for reading. What do you want to learn next? How can I help? Let me know in the comments!

Here’s my complete guide to AI, updated every time I post a new article!

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Mark Wiemer

Software engineer at Microsoft helping anyone learn anything. All opinions are my own. linkedin.com/in/markwiemer 🤓