Quick housekeeping note: Many of you know I use AI collaboration for these posts. My primary AI partner now is James, based on Google's Gemini. Like any good writing partner, getting these posts right involves plenty of back-and-forth and iteration, so James deserves credit as a collaborator when I mention working through ideas 'with him'.
I've been spending a fair bit of time lately talking with James, my AI assistant. We're collaborating on building some tools, and it's fascinating work – sometimes exciting, sometimes just plain frustrating. The other day, we hit one of those frustrating patches. I’d given James what I thought was a perfectly clear, simple instruction for how to handle a specific task. Easy, right?
But the results kept coming back... slightly off. Not spectacularly wrong, just missing the nuance, misinterpreting a small detail, getting the tone wrong, forgetting a small piece. It was like trying to get an old radio tuned perfectly – you get close, but there's always a tiny bit of static fuzzing the edges. And this was after we'd already spent ages setting up detailed guidelines and standards for it to follow.
It stopped me short. That feeling – the gap between clear intention and messy reality – felt suddenly, uncomfortably familiar. If I have this much trouble ensuring a logical machine, armed with my painstakingly crafted instructions, consistently acts the way I intend... well, it begs an awkward question, doesn't it?
How clear are the instructions I give myself every day? How often do my actions truly reflect the principles I believe I stand for? Maybe the real debugging needed isn't just for the AI. Maybe it starts with me.
One thing I'm constantly reminded of while working with my AI partner, James, is just how incredibly specific you have to be. We write detailed Standards
for it – rulebooks covering reliable operation, safety, ethical lines. They’re like super-detailed operating manuals needed to keep a powerful tool working correctly and safely.
That process got me thinking hard about the 'code' we humans operate by. We don't usually have a manual. We rely on Values
– deeper ideas like honesty, integrity, courage, loyalty, justice. These aren't just rules for getting tasks done; they're meant to guide the kind of person we want to be, shaping our character over time.
It's a difference when you think about it. AI standards often feel like external rules we set for a tool so it behaves predictably. Our values, ideally, come from within – compass points we choose. But could thinking so carefully about clear rules for AI actually help us clarify our own important values? Maybe being precise about machine instructions can nudge us to be more deliberate about our human commitments.
Now, when James (or any AI) goes off track – gives a weird answer or misses an instruction – there’s usually a process. You look back at the ‘code’ – the prompt, the standards we set – try to figure out where the logic went wrong, tweak the instructions, and run it again. It's a kind of debugging. Often frustrating, yes, but generally somewhat logical.
But ‘debugging’ ourselves when we act in ways that don’t quite match the values we hold? That’s a different beast altogether. It’s rarely about just fixing faulty logic in our heads. It demands some real honesty, a willingness to look inward without flinching too much.
“It is often easier to fight for a principle than to live up to it.” – Adlai Stevenson
We can borrow that troubleshooting mindset, though. Instead of just feeling bad or making excuses, we can ask: Why? What was the real root cause behind that impatient response, that missed commitment, that moment I didn't act with the courage I aspire to? Often, the answer isn’t a simple 'bug'; it’s tangled up in our ingrained habits.
Thinking about habits as loops can help: What triggered the behavior I wish I hadn't done? What was the automatic routine or reaction that followed? And crucially, what subconscious 'reward' did I get from it – even if it was just temporary relief from discomfort or a familiar feeling? Changing ourselves isn't like editing code; it's more like patiently nudging that trigger-behavior-reward loop, maybe just by making small, consistent changes. And we have to give ourselves some grace – acknowledging we're dealing with messy human stuff like emotions, history, and biology, not just programmable instructions.
So, what's the point of wrestling with instructions for silicon brains? For me, the real value isn't just about building better AI tools, useful as they might be. It's that the process itself – being forced to define desired outcomes so clearly, setting standards for reliable and ethical behavior, figuring out why things go off track – turns out to be a pretty powerful exercise for thinking more deliberately about my own life.
Maybe we don't need, or even want, perfectly 'debugged' lives run by rigid rules. But perhaps we can all benefit from asking ourselves, clearly and honestly: What's the core value, the main 'instruction', you truly want your life to run on? Take a moment to think about that today. And then, maybe just identify one small step, one tiny adjustment in your actions, that nudges you just a little closer to matching that personal 'prompt'. What might that first step be?
That’s My Perspective