I started as a developer who wrote every line of code. I remember the rhythm: my fingers on the keyboard, the tiny victories of bugs fixed and features shipped. Building felt intimate — every detail was mine.
Then AI arrived, not as a threat, but as a new kind of colleague. The change wasn’t instant; it was a slow re-tuning of how I make things.
Now, when I want to create — whether it's software, content, or a prototype — I rarely sit down and type every line. Instead, I articulate intent, break the problem into steps, and orchestrate. I tell the model what I need: design the wheel, draft the engine, sketch the interface — and it returns a first pass. My role becomes managing the process: reviewing, editing, combining, and implementing the pieces that matter.
It’s like imagining a Ferrari and asking for the blueprint for the wheels. I still know how the wheel should work, how it should connect to the axle, and what materials matter. But rather than handcrafting every spoke, I describe the requirements and assemble the result — focusing my time on the parts that need human judgment.
This shift changes two things fundamentally:
- Scope of craft — I operate at higher-level systems thinking. I design constraints, interfaces, and the guiding rules that shape the output.
- Velocity of iteration — ideas move faster. Prototypes arrive in minutes, not days. The cost of trying something new drops dramatically.
That said, the human part doesn’t disappear. If anything, it becomes more important. You need taste, critical thinking, and the discipline to set good constraints. Machines can draft, but people decide what to keep, what to revise, and what to throw away.
Always ask: does this solve the right problem? AI can generate many solutions — your job is to choose the right one.
So yes: creators have become managers in many ways. Not managers of people only, but managers of intent, of systems, and of taste. We move from typing everything to conducting how creation unfolds.
Orchestration is not abdication — it’s responsibility at a different scale.
This new role is exciting. It lets me focus on the parts of craft that machines can’t learn quickly: context, judgment, and the stubborn patience to refine something until it truly works.
And the work still feels like mine — because the choices I make, the constraints I set, and the care I put into each decision are what shape the final piece.