Category: Innovation

What If Jarvis Is Available to Each of Us?

One of the best parts of the Iron Man movies is Jarvis, the ever-present AI system that acts as an extension of Tony Stark’s mind. Jarvis is a collaborator. A research analyst. A pattern finder. A problem solver. He handles logistics, runs calculations, surfaces insights, and stays ready in the background until Tony needs him.

Jarvis amplifies and extends Tony’s genius.

Recently, I introduced a friend to ChatGPT. He hasn’t jumped into any AI tools yet, but he can see that people around him are finding real value in them. Like many thoughtful people, his first questions weren’t about features. They were about data privacy. About whether these tools were simply repackaging other people’s work. About what was really going on under the hood.

At one point, he asked a simple question:

Is it like having Jarvis around whenever you need him?

To me, the honest answer is yes.

But it’s also important to realize that Jarvis isn’t perfect. And neither are the AI tools available to us today.

The First Questions Matter. Almost every serious conversation about AI tools begins in the same place.

Is my data safe?

Who owns the output?

Can I trust what I’m getting back?

These are the same questions we ask whenever a new digital tool emerges.

At a basic level, paid versions of tools like ChatGPT don’t use our conversations to train public models. Even with that protection in place, I still guard my data carefully. If I’m asking questions related to finances, health, or legal matters, I use hypothetical scenarios rather than personal specifics. I’m the first line of defense when it comes to my personal information.

In professional and commercial environments, organizations using business or enterprise versions gain additional protections around data isolation, encryption, access controls, and audit logging. At the enterprise level, some platforms even allow customers to manage their own encryption keys on top of the platform’s security.

The tool doesn’t decide what’s appropriate to share. We do.

Who Owns the Output? We do. The tool doesn’t claim authorship. It doesn’t retain ownership of what it produces for you. The output becomes yours because you directed the work, supplied the context, and decided how the result would be used.

But ownership is only part of the story. Responsibility matters just as much.

The tool doesn’t know your intent. It doesn’t understand your audience. And it doesn’t bear the consequences of getting something wrong. That responsibility stays with the human in the loop. That’s us.

In that sense, using AI isn’t fundamentally different from working with many other analytical tools we may have used for decades. The work becomes yours because you shape it, refine it, and ultimately stand behind it.

A Note on Sources and Attribution. Owning the output also means owning the responsibility for its accuracy and integrity. This is especially important when it comes to research and citations.

AI tools can pull together large volumes of information, synthesize ideas across many inputs, and present them in clean, compelling language. That capability is incredibly useful. But it doesn’t remove the author’s responsibility to understand where ideas come from and how they’re represented.

The tool may summarize research. It may surface commonly known concepts. It may produce language that sounds authoritative and polished. What it doesn’t guarantee is proper attribution or assurance that content isn’t too closely mirroring a specific source.

That responsibility stays with the human.

When I use AI for research or writing, I treat it as a starting point. I ask it to surface each source. I follow links. I read original material. And when an idea, quote, or framework belongs to someone else, I make sure it’s credited appropriately. This step also helps catch hallucinations that sound amazingly accurate.

Ownership requires standing behind the integrity of the work to the best of your ability.

Can I Trust What I’m Getting Back? Usually. Only with supervision. AI tools are very good at consuming information, identifying patterns, and accelerating first drafts. They are less reliable when precision, nuance, or real-world verification is required.

They can be confidently wrong. They can lose context. They can blend accurate information with outdated or incomplete details.

AI tools hallucinate regularly, though this tendency improves with each new model release. These aren’t reasons to dismiss AI as a tool. They’re reminders to understand what AI is and what it isn’t.

Trust paired with skepticism is the right approach. AI tools are fast-thinking assistants, never the final authority.

Verification still matters. Judgment still matters. Experience still matters. In fact, the better your judgment, the more valuable these tools become.

Why Memory Changes the Equation. Most people use AI tools like a smart search engine. Ask a question. Get an answer. Move on.

That works. But it barely scratches the surface of what’s possible. The real multiplier happens when the tool is allowed to remember context.

ChatGPT includes a memory capability that lets you intentionally store preferences, patterns, and reference material across conversations. Used well, this transforms the tool from something you query into something you can collaborate with.

Over the past year and across hundreds of prompt conversations, I’ve shared:

-My writing voice and stylistic preferences

-A digital copy of a leadership book I wrote over a decade ago (about 65,000 words)

-An autobiography I wrote for my children and grandchildren (about 90,000 words)

-Hundreds of blog posts published over the past 13 years (roughly 240,000 words)

-How I like to structure projects and approach new work

In total, I’ve trained the tool with nearly 400,000 words of my original content. This began as an experiment to see if I could reduce generic responses and encourage the tool to approach questions from my foundational perspective.

The difference is tangible. Early on, whether I was drafting communication, analyzing problems, or organizing ideas, the tool would produce polished but generic output that required extensive rewriting. Now, it reflects my priorities, uses frameworks I’ve shared, and produces work that feels aligned with how I think. I still edit quite a bit, but I’m refining rather than rebuilding.

Collaboration Requires Judgment. My friend asked me another important question.

Do you still feel like the writing you produce with it is yours?

Yes. Completely.

Every project I’ve worked on with these tools begins with my original content, reinforced by reference material I created long before AI entered the picture. Hundreds of thousands of words written over more than a decade. Clear intent about audience and purpose, using a defined process I’ve established before drafting anything.

The tool supports rather than replaces my judgment. Drafts usually require significant edits, shifts in tone, and sometimes complete rewrites.

Where it excels is in synthesis. In retrieval. In pattern recognition across large bodies of work. In accelerating first drafts that already have direction.

Large projects require constant supervision. Threads get crossed. Context gets muddled. The tool needs redirection, clarification, and sometimes retraining as the work evolves.

This is simply the nature of collaboration.

Why the Hype Misses the Point. There’s a popular narrative circulating that anyone can now write a book, write a complex software application, create a website, start a business, or become an expert with just a few well-written prompts.

This misunderstands both the tools and the craft associated with each of these tasks.

I think of AI the way I think of a great camera. We can all buy the same equipment. That doesn’t guarantee an amazing photo. The quality still depends on the eye behind the lens, the patience and skills to frame the shot, and the willingness to edit ruthlessly afterward.

Ansel Adams once said that asking him what camera he used was like asking a writer what typewriter he used. The tool matters. But it has never been the point.

The same is true with AI tools.

Without intent, taste, and care, straight AI output feels flat and formulaic. Readers will notice. Substance can’t be faked. Depth doesn’t appear by accident.

These tools reflect the discipline of the person using them.

Hitting the Ground Running. For someone just getting started, the biggest mistake is expecting magic. The better approach is to build understanding and training into the process (for you and the AI tool).

Explain what you’re trying to do.

Tell the tool how you think.

Correct it when it’s wrong.

Guide it when it drifts.

Treat it like a junior collaborator. One that’s fast, tireless, and remarkably capable…but still dependent on direction and context.

If you’re looking for a practical first step, try this. Find an article you’ve read recently and ask the tool to summarize it. Compare that summary to the original. Notice what it captured, what it missed, and what it misunderstood. This simple exercise reveals both the tool’s strengths and its limitations in a low-stakes way.

From there, you might ask it to help you draft an email, outline a presentation, or brainstorm solutions to a problem you’re facing. Start with tasks where you can easily evaluate the quality of the output and provide feedback on what the tool provides. 

Over time, you’ll notice the quality improves. That’s when the tool begins to resemble the Jarvis we imagined. It isn’t perfect, but it becomes more aligned with what you value most and how you like to approach your work. At the same time, your understanding of its strengths and limitations becomes clearer through consistent use.

AI doesn’t replace thinking. It requires it.

Used carelessly, it produces noise. Used deliberately, it sharpens your insights.

The question is whether we’re willing to slow down at the beginning, set expectations, and engage AI tools with proper intention.

Only then can these tools truly serve us well.

Photo by Chris Haws on Unsplash – photographers often say, “It’s about the photographer, not the camera.”

If this post was helpful, please feel free to share it.

Measuring the AI Dividend

In the early 1990s, the term Peace Dividend appeared in headlines and boardrooms. The Cold War had ended, and nations began asking what they might gain by redirecting the resources once committed to defense.

Today the conflict is between our old ways of working and the new reality AI brings. After denial (it’s just a fad), anger (it’s taking our jobs), withdrawal (I’ll wait this one out), and finally acceptance (maybe I should learn how to use AI tools), the picture is clear. AI is here, and it’s reshaping how we think, learn, and work.

Which leads to the natural question. What is our AI Dividend?

Leaders everywhere are trying to measure it. Some ask how many people they can eliminate. Others ask how much more their existing teams can achieve. The real opportunity sits between these two questions.

Few leaders look at this across the right horizon. Every major technological shift starts out loud, then settles into a steady climb toward real value. AI will follow that same pattern.

The early dividends won’t show up on a budget line. They’ll show up in the work. Faster learning inside teams. More accurate decisions. More experiments completed in a week instead of a quarter.

When small gains compound, momentum builds. Work speeds up. Confidence rises. People will begin treating AI as a partner in thinking, not merely a shortcut for output.

At that point the important questions show themselves. Are ideas moving to action faster? Are we correcting less and creating more? Are our teams becoming more curious, more capable, and more energized?

The most valuable AI Dividend is actually the Human Dividend. As machines handle the mechanical, people reclaim their time and attention for creative work, deeper customer relationships, and more purpose-filled contributions. This dividend can’t be measured only in savings or productivity. It will be seen in what people build when they have room to imagine again.

In the years ahead, leaders who measure wisely will look beyond immediate cost savings and focus on what their organizations can create that couldn’t have existed before.

Photo by C Bischoff on Unsplash – because some of the time we gain from using AI will free us up to work on non-AI pursuits. 

How Limits Bring Art to Life

Inspired by G. K. Chesterton

I’ve come to believe what Chesterton once said. Art is limitation, and the essence of every picture is the frame. It took me time to see that truth.

Many of us grow up thinking freedom creates great work. Unlimited time. Unlimited canvas. Unlimited choice.

But if you’ve ever stared too long at a blank page, you know what real freedom can feel like. Paralyzing.

Nothing takes shape until the edges appear. A story waits forever if the writer can’t decide where it begins. Music is noisy until the composer chooses a key. The frame gives the work its purpose.

The same is true in leadership and life. A budget helps us decide what we value. A deadline turns a dream into something real. A small team learns to trade excess for imagination. Limited resources push us to invent new ways to adapt. The frame brings focus.

Still, the frame itself matters. A picture can feel cramped when the frame becomes too tight. A project can drift when the wrong thing fills the center. When the boundaries are off, the whole image loses clarity. That’s why wise leaders spend time defining the edges before the work begins.

Whenever I work on a puzzle, I start by finding all the edge pieces. Once the border comes together, I can see how everything else might fit. The same principle applies to creative work and leadership. The edges give us context. They help us imagine where the middle pieces belong and how the picture will come to life.

Frames should change as we grow. The world shifts. We learn more about what we’re building. Every so often, we step back and see whether the picture still fits. Sometimes the frame needs widening. Sometimes the colors need more light. Adjusting the frame keeps the beauty true.

Constraints give possibility its shape. They reveal what truly matters. Choosing the right limitations helps us see what is essential.

When you feel boxed in or limited, pause before you push against the edges. The frame around your work may be the very thing helping the picture appear. And when the picture becomes clear, refresh the frame so the beauty within it continues to grow.

Thanks to James Clear for sharing this G. K. Chesterton quote: “Art is limitation; the essence of every picture is the frame.”

Photo by pine watt on Unsplash

Choosing Curiosity Over Fear

When we look toward the future, two voices compete for our attention. Fear tells us to run away. Curiosity invites us to step forward.

Fear whispers, “It’s too much. I can’t keep up. Better to stop trying.” Curiosity responds, “I don’t understand…yet. Let’s see what happens.”

Fear closes.

Curiosity opens.

Fear imagines disaster.

Curiosity imagines possibilities.

Fear isolates.

Curiosity connects.

The world is changing quickly. The pace can feel overwhelming. Many will react with fear. A curious spirit asks questions. It wonders what could be.

Curiosity doesn’t remove uncertainty but transforms how we deal with it. When we lead with curiosity, we move from paralysis to participation. We see the unknown as a chance to grow.

“Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.” – Marcus Aurelius

We already have the tools we need. Curiosity and our ability to learn. What we need is the courage to use them.

Photo by ALEXANDRE DINAUT on Unsplash

Providing Room to Fail

Organizational culture, not technology, is the hardest part of innovation

How many of your projects are truly innovative? If you have any, what’s your success rate? Would you consider your success rate to be all-star caliber?

This baseball analogy is almost a cliché, but it holds up. A professional hitter with a .300 average is considered excellent (all-star?). That means they fail seven times out of ten.

Now imagine applying this to innovation. What if only 30% of your projects succeed? At first glance, that sounds like a losing record. But if the successful projects provide 10x productivity increases, transform your customer’s experience, or massively boost profitability…30% success would yield incredible results for your organization.

This is the kind of opportunity in front of us today with AI. Tools are maturing quickly. The potential is staggering. Every company, large or small, is beginning to experiment.

Some will tiptoe. Others will dive headfirst. All will face a mix of breakthroughs and busts.

There will be tools that don’t deliver on promises, pilots that fizzle, and teams that struggle with adoption. But there will also be amazing homeruns. Projects that reshape the business and redefine what’s possible.

Many leaders today are focusing on which AI tools to purchase and how to train their teams. That’s the easy part.

The harder part is creating space for both the hits and the strikeouts. If people feel they must succeed every time, they probably won’t swing at all. They’ll play it safe and stick with what they know.

Innovation will grind to a halt.

Providing room to fail doesn’t mean celebrating mistakes. It means making sure your team knows that experiments, even the ones that fall short, are part of making progress. Leaders who demand perfection get compliance. Leaders who make room for failure get innovation.

As you lead your organization into AI and beyond, remember that your job isn’t to guarantee every swing is a hit.

Your job is building a culture where people are willing to keep taking swings.

Photo by Chris Chow on Unsplash

Optimize Today, Invent Tomorrow

Automation makes the machine run smoother. Innovation changes where the machine is going.

Automation hunts for efficiency. It tries to do what we did yesterday, but faster and cheaper. It targets the transactional and trims overhead. It removes steps and reduces friction. When done well, it buys back time.

Automation is valuable work and the price of admission for any organization.

But efficiency alone won’t differentiate.

Innovation asks different questions. Harder questions. Where are we trying to take our customers next? What experience would make them rethink what’s possible with us?

Innovation seeks to create new value.

Innovation needs space, a space that promotes bold and creative thinking.

It might mean dedicating 20% of a team’s work to exploring customer problems without predetermined solutions.

Or creating quarterly “innovation days” where normal metrics don’t apply.

Or creating time in leadership meetings for “what if” conversations instead of only “what’s broken” discussions.

Leaders set the tone. They can focus solely on efficiency, or they can ask questions that point their organization toward innovation.

If your new system creates fewer clicks, fewer steps, and lower costs, you automated.

If you created a new customer journey or opened a new market category, you innovated.

Do both well and you reshape the game.

Automation keeps us strong today. Innovation makes us irreplaceable tomorrow.

Photo by Ben Soyka on Unsplash

When Fires Become the Work

Ask someone how their day went, and odds are, they’ll say, “Busy.”

Dig a little deeper, and you’ll hear about the fires they had to put out, the urgent requests from their boss, or the upset customers they had to talk in off the ledge. Everyone’s racing from task to task, reacting to whatever pops up next.

What you don’t hear—at least not often—is someone saying, “Today I worked on our 30-day goals,” or, “I spent the afternoon exploring how AI might streamline our operations,” or, “I studied what our competitors are doing better than we are.”

Most people are caught in an infinite response loop. The big questions get pushed to tomorrow, especially if the boss isn’t asking about them anyway. And often, he’s just as busy reacting to his own list of urgent problems.

Response mode is easy. You don’t have to choose what matters most. Just deal with what’s in front of you. There’s no time for stepping back, rethinking the process, or preventing tomorrow’s fires today. You stay busy. That way, you can tell yourself you’re still needed.

And when the day ends, you can point to everything you handled and feel like you earned your paycheck.

But the real questions are:
Did you move any of your monthly, quarterly, or annual goals forward?
Do you even know what they are?

For many, the answers are no and definitely no.

Working in the business is the default. It’s safe and familiar. It keeps your hands full.

Working on the business is different. It takes time, thought, and courage. It means facing questions without clear answers. It means exploring new tools, unlearning old habits, and imagining better ways to serve your customers.

No fires today? Is your boss on vacation? Sounds like an easy day.

But if no one thinks about what’s next, if no one is asking what should change or improve, and if no one is steering the ship, that ship will eventually drift. Maybe into a storm. Maybe into the rocks.

And no one will notice until it’s too late.

So, ask yourself:
Are you steering, or just responding?

Side note: These questions apply outside of work. If we’re not actively steering in our personal lives, we can just as easily find ourselves in a storm we could have avoided, running aground on some rocks, or drifting aimlessly out to sea.

Photo by Amir Saeid Dehghan Tarzejani on Unsplash

Creating Like Children

When you watch a five-year-old, a ten-year-old, even a twelve-year-old create, you see what unfettered creative freedom really looks like. Whether it’s a drawing, a Lego tower, or a clay sculpture, they throw themselves into the process with joyous abandon. In their mind, they can see clearly what they’re making. They know why they’re making it. And there’s almost always a story behind it.

They aren’t self-conscious. They aren’t trying to impress anyone. Sure, they like to show their creations to parents, grandparents, and teachers.  But their motivation isn’t just about approval. It’s about expression.

Most children are free from the baggage of expectation. They don’t wonder if what they’re making is good enough. And when they finish, they move right on to the next thing. Their self-worth isn’t tied to the outcome. The value of the work comes from their own perspective, not from what others think.

But around age thirteen (sometimes earlier) things change.

After years of chasing approval, learning the “right” way to do things, being graded and corrected by well-meaning adults, something fundamental happens. Their freedom to create without judgment slowly gets buried. Doubt takes root. Worry about what others might think starts to shape their process. Fear of looking foolish holds them back.

And as the years pass, it only gets worse.

Tell someone you’re going to take up oil painting, stained glass, sculpture, or any new creative pursuit as an adult, and they’ll likely have two reactions: a polite smile of encouragement, and quiet skepticism that anything worthwhile will ever come of it.

Starting something creative as an adult feels strange. It’s outside the bounds of what “normal” people do. It’s far easier to stay in line, avoid looking foolish, and sidestep the discomfort of being a beginner again.

But we are all beginners at birth. Even the rare prodigies had to take their first step (the one that happens long before we see the gifted 5-year-old who can play a piano concerto). For the rest of us, every new skill—whether it’s creative, practical, or professional—requires courage, repetition, failure, and patience.

I’ve learned that when I let go of expectations (not easy) and stop worrying about looking foolish (also not easy), the magic happens. With this new frame of reference, trying something new, something creative, or something unfamiliar, brings a new energy having nothing to do with the outcomes.

It doesn’t seek approval or chase productivity. It simply opens the door to wonder—something we often unlearn as we grow older.

I’m lucky. I get to spend time with my grandchildren, who remind me what fearless creativity looks like. They show me that learning and creating, and the fun we have along the way, are all that matters. 

Maybe we all need a little more of that. 

To create like children again.

Photo by pine watt on Unsplash

Resist the Rut

It’s easy to fall into the rut.

To assume that delays are normal.
That long lead times are just “the way things are.”
That bureaucracy is an immovable force we’re all meant to quietly and endlessly orbit.

But here’s the question we should be asking:
Does something really take months to get done…or is that just the rut talking?

Ruts are sneaky. They dress up as policies, forms, regulatory frameworks, meetings, approvals.

They start small.  Maybe with one postponed decision or an overcautious email.  Before long, they’re a deep trench. One that feels safer to live in than escape.

Some processes do require time. Some decisions need careful research and thoughtful consideration.

But not everything takes as long as we pretend.  And if we’re being honest, we often lean on red tape as a crutch. To justify inaction, to mask fear, to cover for indecision, to avoid risk. Maybe to avoid the work altogether.

We say things like:

-“That’s how our system works.”

-“These things take time.”

-“We’ll have to check with Legal.”

-“I’m waiting on approvals before I can move forward.”

But what if we stopped waiting?

The 10 Million Dollar Question:

If you or your organization were promised $10 million the moment this project is completed—this thing you’re currently delaying—how long would it actually take to finish?

-How focused would you suddenly become?
-How many hurdles would get knocked out of your way?
-How quickly would meetings be scheduled, decisions made, and steps taken?

If your answer is “much faster,” then the rut is running the show. You’re not stuck. You and your organization are settling for the slow lane.

What if we challenge the assumptions about how long things should take?

What if we stop admiring and massaging the problem and started solving it?

What if we stop delegating or offloading the issue to another department, and just fixed it ourselves…today?

Organizations that resist the rut move faster. They ask better questions. They take the time to consider how to eliminate hurdles. They focus on outcomes, not just process. They know when structure helps, and when it hinders. They trim what’s unnecessary and protect what’s essential.

This isn’t about being reckless. It’s about refusing to be lulled into complacency. It’s about bringing urgency back to the table.

It’s about remembering that progress often begins with someone brave enough to say: “Why not now?”

If you’re feeling stuck, ask yourself:
-Are you really bound by rules and timelines? Or just by a habit of delay?

Resist the rut.

Challenge the default.

Challenge the impossible and make it possible.

Push for better.

It might take less time than you think.

h/t – my colleague, Jacob Smith.  An extremely productive and prolific software development manager who regularly challenges the default and always pushes for better.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash

Starting is the Hardest Part

The blinking cursor on a blank document. The empty stretch of land where you’ll soon be building a shop. The new web application your company wants to develop that will revolutionize your industry. These are just a few examples of standing on the edge of something new, something important, yet feeling completely unsure of where to begin.

You might have a vision of the final result—the finished document, the completed shop, the fully functioning app. But that doesn’t mean you know how to get there.

It’s easy to get lost in the variables and the endless possibilities. What if I make the wrong decision? Are there more resources out there? What do other people think? Should I read more articles? Watch more videos? Seek more advice? What if I mess it all up?

In every case, the hardest part is starting.

It’s taking that first step. Writing the first sentence. Sketching out the first screen of an app. Nailing the first stakes into the ground—the ones you’ll attach a string to, so you can visualize where your new shop will go.

It’s a commitment to action over hesitation. A moment of bravery that marks the beginning of making something real.

An amazing thing happens when you start. Your mind shifts from a place of endless “what-ifs” to a place of positive motion. You begin to focus on the next steps and real solutions. All the challenges you imagined before starting—that, in many cases, won’t even come to pass—are forgotten. The path ahead becomes clearer, and each small step forward makes your next decision easier.

Does this mean everything goes perfectly after you start? Of course not. You’ll make mistakes, adjust, learn, and pivot along the way.

But here’s where starting becomes crucial: it provides a tangible foundation. It gives you something to measure against, something to refine, something to edit. You might completely change your initial idea, but you wouldn’t have discovered the need to change if you hadn’t started.

Starting is hard, but it’s also the most important part.

Take the first step, even if it feels uncomfortable. You’ll learn more from those first few steps than you will from standing still…wondering what might happen.

Once you start, momentum kicks in. And from there, the possibilities are endless.

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash