The Contradiction That Keeps Irritating Me About AI

A few days ago, I was commenting on a LinkedIn post by Saieed Sadeghzadeh.

The discussion wasn’t really about AI at first.

It was about authenticity.

About what people want to see on LinkedIn.

At one point, Saieed wrote:

“People want to see the person behind the profile.”

I immediately agreed.

Because I think that’s exactly what most of us are looking for.

Not perfection.

Not polished corporate messaging.

Not another generic post that sounds like it was written by everyone and no one at the same time.

We want to see the human.

The experiences behind the words.

The scars behind the lessons.

The curiosity behind the questions.

The person behind the profile.

Then the conversation shifted.

Saieed observed:

“The issue is that the LinkedIn algo also seems to be set this way now… they’re cracking down on AI posts but having the option to rewrite your post with AI too.”

And suddenly something clicked for me.

Because there is a contradiction there that has been bothering me for months.

We’re told to embrace AI.

We’re told to learn AI.

We’re told AI will transform the way we work.

Companies are investing billions into it.

Organizations are creating AI strategies.

Leaders are telling employees they need to adapt.

Platforms like LinkedIn are embedding AI directly into their products.

Yet the moment someone admits they use AI, there is often an assumption that the work is somehow less valuable.

Less authentic.

Less professional.

Less theirs.

And I can’t help wondering:

What exactly are we judging?

The tool?

Or the quality of the thinking behind it?

I responded to Saieed:

“In the era of AI, we shouldn’t punish people for using AI, but instead focus on keeping those that are creative and deep and interesting shining. Who cares what tools we use to get there?”

And I still believe that.

Because I’ve been writing since I was a teenager.

Long before ChatGPT existed.

I’ve written blogs for years.

I’ve written several books.

I don’t write because AI told me to.

I write because ideas bounce around in my head until they demand to exist in the world.

The stories I share come from my life.

The insights come from decades of engineering, leadership, coaching, mistakes, failures, successes, curiosity, and conversations with thousands of people.

None of that comes from AI.

But yes, sometimes I use AI.

After I’ve written a blog, I might ask it to help me create a LinkedIn version.

Or an Instagram version.

Or help me tighten a paragraph.

Or catch a spelling mistake I’ve missed after reading the same sentence twenty times. I used to heavily rely on Grammarly and on Ms Word Spellcheck long before that.

The thinking wasn’t outsourced.

The packaging was assisted.

And it doesn’t stop with writing.

Sometimes I’ll use AI to create an image I can already see clearly in my mind.

Not because AI had the idea.

Because I did.

The challenge isn’t imagining it.

The challenge is translating what I see into a prompt detailed enough to bring that vision to life.

The creativity is still human.

The imagination is still human.

The artistic direction is still human.

The vision is still human.

The tool simply helps me express it.

To me, that’s no different from a photographer choosing a lens, a designer choosing software, or an engineer choosing an IDE.

The tool matters.

But it isn’t where the idea came from.

What frustrates me is that we seem to be losing that distinction.

We see AI and assume the thinking came from AI.

But the thinking is the hard part.

The insight is the hard part.

The creativity is the hard part.

The vulnerability is the hard part.

The courage to put your ideas into the world is the hard part.

Summarizing it for a different audience is not.

As an engineer, I’ve used tools my entire career.

As a writer, I’ve used tools my entire career.

As a coach, I’ve used tools my entire career.

Nobody questions an architect for using software.

Nobody questions a photographer for using editing tools.

Nobody questions a designer for using Photoshop.

Nobody questions an engineer for using an IDE instead of writing machine code.

We still recognize the human behind the tool.

So why is AI different?

Maybe because we’re asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking whether AI was involved, perhaps we should be asking:

Who had the idea?

Who connected the dots?

Who challenged assumptions?

Who brought the creativity?

Who brought the courage?

Who brought the lived experience?

Because those are the things that create value.

Not the tool.

And this is where I think LinkedIn is getting it wrong.

If the platform wants to reduce low-quality content from getting an audience, I completely understand.

I don’t enjoy reading generic, soulless, cookie-cutter posts any more than anyone else does.

But I worry we’re measuring the wrong thing.

Because the real problem isn’t AI.

The real problem is shallow thinking.

The real problem is lack of originality.

The real problem is content that says nothing.

Those things existed long before AI arrived.

AI didn’t create them.

It simply made them easier to produce.

At the same time, AI has made it easier for thoughtful people to share ideas, adapt content for different audiences, improve accessibility, and spend more time thinking rather than formatting.

If the algorithm suppresses content simply because AI helped shape the delivery, while boosting content that is entirely human-written but says nothing, have we really solved the problem?

Or have we mistaken the tool for the outcome?

And perhaps this is where the conversation becomes bigger than LinkedIn.

Because this same contradiction shows up in leadership every day.

We tell people we want innovation.

Then punish mistakes.

We tell people we want ownership.

Then micromanage decisions.

We tell people to challenge assumptions.

Then become defensive when assumptions are challenged.

We tell people to embrace AI.

Then quietly judge them when they do.

🐉

This is one of the oldest dragons in leadership.

The dragon of contradictory expectations.

The dragon that says:

“Be yourself, but not that part.”

“Think differently, but not differently from me.”

“Take risks, but don’t fail.”

“Adapt, but don’t make me uncomfortable.”

“Use AI, but don’t tell me you used AI.”

And over time something predictable happens.

People stop listening to what leaders say.

They start listening to what leaders reward.

When people receive contradictory signals, they don’t become more innovative.

They become more cautious.

Not because they lack courage.

Because they’re trying to survive.

If using AI gets me judged, I’ll hide my use of AI.

If challenging assumptions gets me criticized, I’ll stop challenging assumptions.

If experimenting gets me punished, I’ll stop experimenting.

The behavior doesn’t disappear.

It simply goes underground.

And once that happens, trust starts eroding.

I’ve noticed that most leadership dragons are not born from bad intentions.

They’re born from contradictions.

The words point in one direction.

🖤 The rewards point in another.

🖤 The strategy says one thing.

🖤 The culture teaches another.

And people are left trying to guess which version is real.

The moment people start guessing, trust begins to disappear.

Which is why I think the conversation around AI matters.

Not because AI is the dragon.

AI is just the latest mirror.

It’s exposing something that has always existed.

Our tendency to judge people for embracing the very change we’ve asked them to embrace.

Our tendency to reward familiarity while praising innovation.

Our tendency to celebrate transformation in theory while resisting it in practice.

Perhaps instead of asking:

“Did you use AI?”

We should be asking:

“Did you create something meaningful?”

❤️‍🔥 Did it make someone think?

❤️‍🔥 Did it teach something?

❤️‍🔥 Did it challenge an assumption?

❤️‍🔥 Did it inspire action?

❤️‍🔥 Did it help another person?

🖤 Because boring content existed long before AI.

🖤 Lazy thinking existed long before AI.

🖤 Cookie-cutter content existed long before AI.

🖤 A shallow idea is still shallow whether it was written by a human or assisted by AI.

And a powerful insight is still powerful whether it was written with a pen, a keyboard, or refined with AI.

The magic was never in the tool.

The magic has always been in the human using it.

And perhaps that’s what I care about most.

Not whether I can see the AI.

But whether I can still see the person behind the profile.

🐉💚

🐉 If AI is exposing anything, I don’t think it’s a technology problem.

I think it’s exposing a human one.

How do we adapt to a changing world without losing our voice, our values, our creativity, or our humanity?

How do we stay connected without disappearing, embrace change without becoming performative, and lead from a place that feels authentic rather than forced?

That’s exactly the journey we explore in the Leadership Landing Program, helping leaders navigate complexity, build trust, and lead authentically in times of change.

💚 And if your organization is wrestling with the leadership, culture, trust, or adoption challenges that come with AI transformation, I’d love to explore how Xebia can help turn those dragons into opportunities for growth.

What do you think? Are we becoming too focused on how something was created and not focused enough on whether it created value? 🐉💚