Hey Sindhu, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve read your piece and it’s really opened up a lot of thoughts and perspectives that I’ve been sitting with. I actually feel really compelled to write something of my own as a way of extending the conversation rather than responding directly.
If it’s ok, I’d like to link your essay as part of that dialogue but out of respect, I wanted to ask you first. No pressure at all to read my work or respond in anyway, I just wanted to name the way your writing moved something for me.
I enjoyed your essay, Sindhu. One thing I wanted to comment on - I know you were referring to the personal level when you wrote, "Generating an AI essay takes zero energy."
But the scary thing is that on the environmental level, generating an IA essay does consume resources: water, energy, in particular. One of the things that scares me about this surge in AI content creation, is that we are unknowingly trading in the gifts of our natural world for a stockpile of mindless content sitting on server boxes scattered across the globe.
I hope more people can wake up and start to give a shit, as you say, about the things that really matter, namely intentional human interaction and creation. This was a very well written call to action.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. It’s exactly this kind of reflection that keeps me hopeful. What struck me most while writing this piece was the subtle, almost invisible erosion of care in our everyday lives. It isn’t always dramatic; it’s in the little moments we overlook: the AI-generated essay that never reaches the human heart, the neighbour who drills past curfew, the performative support we give online that evaporates the second we close the app.
Care is inherently slow, messy, and metabolically expensive. It resists optimisation. It asks us to sit with discomfort, to hold space for others even when it costs us something, and to be accountable to invisible obligations we can’t automate or outsource. That’s why, paradoxically, in a world obsessed with efficiency and immediacy, care is the first thing to vanish.
And yet, I still believe it’s our superpower. To care, to persist in giving a shit, even when no one forces us, is an act of agency. It’s structural. It’s the way we prevent the baseline of human interaction from collapsing entirely. Small gestures ripple outward. They tether us to one another. They remind us that the world doesn’t have to be hollowed out by speed or performance.
I don’t think the solution is to reject technology or AI, or to retreat entirely from modern life. Rather, it’s to reclaim the muscles of care, to be deliberate about what and who we give attention to, and to recognize that the friction, the slow work, the small disappointments, they’re not failures, they’re the medium through which genuine human connection flows.
This felt like one of your most (if not the most?) striking pieces of notes you've ever put out. There's an incredible amount of depth and nuance to understand, question, reflect, and embark on (as always :D). I'm sure I'll keep revisiting this space (as with many other spaces of yours).
I loved reading :)
Hey Sindhu, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve read your piece and it’s really opened up a lot of thoughts and perspectives that I’ve been sitting with. I actually feel really compelled to write something of my own as a way of extending the conversation rather than responding directly.
If it’s ok, I’d like to link your essay as part of that dialogue but out of respect, I wanted to ask you first. No pressure at all to read my work or respond in anyway, I just wanted to name the way your writing moved something for me.
Leanna
Please do, Leanna! I’m keen to read your thoughts on this too.
Thankyou lovely, it’s still sitting in my drafts awaiting this approval to link your work. I’ll make sure to release it in the coming days. 🥰
Welcome back :)
I enjoyed your essay, Sindhu. One thing I wanted to comment on - I know you were referring to the personal level when you wrote, "Generating an AI essay takes zero energy."
But the scary thing is that on the environmental level, generating an IA essay does consume resources: water, energy, in particular. One of the things that scares me about this surge in AI content creation, is that we are unknowingly trading in the gifts of our natural world for a stockpile of mindless content sitting on server boxes scattered across the globe.
I hope more people can wake up and start to give a shit, as you say, about the things that really matter, namely intentional human interaction and creation. This was a very well written call to action.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts. It’s exactly this kind of reflection that keeps me hopeful. What struck me most while writing this piece was the subtle, almost invisible erosion of care in our everyday lives. It isn’t always dramatic; it’s in the little moments we overlook: the AI-generated essay that never reaches the human heart, the neighbour who drills past curfew, the performative support we give online that evaporates the second we close the app.
Care is inherently slow, messy, and metabolically expensive. It resists optimisation. It asks us to sit with discomfort, to hold space for others even when it costs us something, and to be accountable to invisible obligations we can’t automate or outsource. That’s why, paradoxically, in a world obsessed with efficiency and immediacy, care is the first thing to vanish.
And yet, I still believe it’s our superpower. To care, to persist in giving a shit, even when no one forces us, is an act of agency. It’s structural. It’s the way we prevent the baseline of human interaction from collapsing entirely. Small gestures ripple outward. They tether us to one another. They remind us that the world doesn’t have to be hollowed out by speed or performance.
I don’t think the solution is to reject technology or AI, or to retreat entirely from modern life. Rather, it’s to reclaim the muscles of care, to be deliberate about what and who we give attention to, and to recognize that the friction, the slow work, the small disappointments, they’re not failures, they’re the medium through which genuine human connection flows.
This felt like one of your most (if not the most?) striking pieces of notes you've ever put out. There's an incredible amount of depth and nuance to understand, question, reflect, and embark on (as always :D). I'm sure I'll keep revisiting this space (as with many other spaces of yours).
Appreciate it :) it’s good to be back and writing again.
Well, I’m incredibly glad :)