My latest essay for Epsilon Theory: Unplugged on Panoptica is out now. It’s called “More Eccentrics. Less Influencers.” It’s about our relationship with thinking in feeling as creatives in a world of AI. Oh, and role models. Because they still matter, maybe more than ever.

I had a bunch of thoughts post clicking submit on this one the other day so pardon what might turn into several editions of these as people start emailing me their takes, too (isn’t sharing creative work fun? It really is).

I never got around to naming the presence of The Creator Flywheel in this piece but it was in my head the whole time. The idea of the presence of a muse is super important here, and factors in with the god-metaphor (not an accident to have the Noah story featured in the past role models section).

The muse leads with feeling. It’s pre-thought happening. Your attention being captured is the spark that starts all actions. So when I say you don’t think embarrassed, or sad, or angry - you feel them, I’m trying to convey this feeling of the presence of the muse.

Then, when I say (again) that AI can think but it cannot feel, it mean it has no muse. There’s (currently, I know, Cylons and etc.) no sensory input, and therefore no cultivated sensibility. The users of AI bring all that to the table. There’s nothing right or wrong, or good or evil about any of that, it’s just my observation from using the tools. This is the most succinct framing I’ve been able to come up for with it.

That lack of experiential data is the missing spark we humans are all too familiar with, and not just as a step, either. I call it The Creator Flywheel because it loops. The muse triggers your curiosity, gets your attention, allows for creativity, and the option of making the habit to seek out the muse all over again. A tool can’t be genuinely moved to begin.

A human variation on this shows up when we look at eccentrics and influencers next to each other.

Your super weird and eccentric friend definitely has a muse. He collects weird stuff and hangs out in strange places both online and off. They’ve made a habit out of finding and feeling that inspiration on the regular. Nothing about their scene scales. Not because it’s pointless, just because it’s dependent on active participants who appreciate each other in their bizarre little corner of the world.

Your super popular and influencer acquaintance seems to be driven by a cousin to the muse. They collect and create content to inspire a particular action they can do something with. They have rules they follow to maximize the scale of the start-up style idea. They have a very specific goal in mind, and a lot of pro-active converting to do around it. If they could outsource most of what they do to a robot in the name of faster scalability, they’re all ears, usually for another influencer to show them how.

They’re both flywheels. They both end in habits.

It’s just that the eccentrics have a shot at being happy people.

If all you do is chase metrics… you might miss the pleasure of chasing things that don’t deserve to be counted. Not to get all existential crisis on you, but what does it all mean, really?

I don’t think the influencers ever get to be happy without breaking out of that cycle. The same goes for the AI’s they train to do their jobs for them. And, more than anything, for the non human algorithmically driven platforms (i.e. social media, etc.) that have an advantage via happiness not even being part of their goal set.

Lump this all together and I see it as a crisis of role models.

Eccentrics aren’t alt-left or alt-right influencers with megaphones on social media platforms. Eccentrics aren’t all spicy takes all the time. These are influencers with agendas, operating on habitual platforms designed to encourage that loop.

AI can think but it cannot feel is a way of saying AI role models can think but they cannot feel.

I want role models who can do both. I want to model that role, of doing both, to others. That feels like my life’s work for right now.

I like being eccentric. I like being weird. I accept it doesn’t scale. I still keep making new friends and getting to talk to interesting people. Most of all - I’ve got my wife and our dogs and our Tuesday evening activities that involve not much of anything and I’m happy.

Let perfect be the machine’s job.

This essay is all about the covenant with myself to think and feel and stay eccentric in the name of happy. In the name of humanity. Send me that rainbow.

Or - wink it at me.