By
In today’s world, AI and technology are moving so fast that it’s almost second nature to let them take on tasks for us. I love the convenience of AI, but I’m also hesitant to rely on it too heavily. There’s something about doing things manually—solving a problem from scratch or working through a challenging task—that feels uniquely rewarding. It’s not about holding onto old habits; it’s about experiencing the learning that comes with the process.
Our brains are wired for this kind of learning. Neuroplasticity allows us to strengthen neural pathways every time we repeat a task, making us faster and more skilled each time. But when we let go of those tasks, those pathways weaken, adapting to new focuses. Take math, for example. I remember being much sharper at it in school when calculators were off-limits. Now, with calculators in our pockets, it’s harder to work out problems on the spot. Yet, by letting AI and technology handle certain tasks, I can now focus on bigger projects and more complex problems.
Still, it’s natural to feel a bit cautious about letting technology handle so much for us. For me, it comes down to finding a balance—using AI as a tool for productivity without losing the skills that give our work depth and personality.
This idea of balancing skill with efficiency brought me back to a recent experience. A few weeks ago, while sorting through old files, I stumbled upon my grade school and high school report cards. Curious, I flipped through them, reading old teacher comments and notes on my performance in different subjects. I was a pretty average student overall: not great at math or science, but consistently above average in English, spelling, and reading. One detail caught my eye, though: the cognitive ability tests that tracked my progress over the years.
These tests showed I was fairly average in verbal understanding but above average in nonverbal skills. It’s no surprise, really—I've always been more of a visual thinker. Shapes, patterns, and spatial arrangements stand out faster for me than words or numbers. It’s why I’ve always felt that language, while powerful, has its limitations. Words can summarize feelings, experiences, and moments, but they often fall short of capturing the full picture. Some things just resonate beyond words.
Looking back, this nonverbal strength actually makes sense in the context of my career. As a web developer, my job is about more than just delivering information to users. Sure, websites need verbal content, but the experience goes so much further than that. The nonverbal aspects—layouts, shapes, colors, and patterns—turn raw content into something meaningful, making it easier to digest and enjoyable to interact with.
Good web design complements the content. It brings clarity to information, guiding users naturally and creating a subtle sense of personality. In a way, web development is like designing a visual language, combining verbal and nonverbal cues to create a balanced, intuitive experience.
All of this circles back to my cautious approach to AI. The tools we use can amplify our strengths, freeing up mental space for creative work. But I believe it’s worth holding onto certain skills and experiences, especially those that have shaped our way of thinking. For now, I’m leaning toward a hybrid approach—leveraging AI’s efficiency without giving up the personal, hands-on approach I value. There’s an excitement in this balance, embracing new possibilities while holding onto the experiences that give our work depth. Embracing AI doesn’t mean abandoning all skills, but evolving them for a new era of human capability.
