Everyone’s talking about AI like it’s the thing we’ve all been waiting for.

I work with it daily. I teach people how to use it.
And in many ways, it is exactly what we’ve been waiting for.

It speeds things up. It finds patterns. It catches what we miss.
But lately, I’ve been thinking less about what AI can do and more about what we might stop doing because it can.

Because when I look around at the businesses that actually last — the ones people talk about, return to, stay loyal to—they aren’t built on clever systems alone. They’re built on something messier. Slower. Deeply human.

Something AI will never hold.

I wrote a piece recently. More of a manifesto than a post. And there are three lines I keep coming back to, over and over again. They’ve become guideposts for how I build systems, shape brand voices, and work with leaders who are trying to lead in the age of automation.

Here they are:

  • Love that doesn’t optimize
  • Faith that doesn’t scale
  • Truth that refuses to be efficient

These aren’t poetic throwaways. They’re the real anchors of a business with soul.

If you want a culture that holds when pressure hits, you need unoptimized love — the kind that checks in even when there’s no metric tied to it.

If you want customers who stick around long after the transaction, you need faith that doesn’t scale — earned trust, built one imperfect interaction at a time.

If you want a brand that actually cuts through, you need truth that refuses to be efficient. A voice that stops people because it means something.

And I get it. AI is good — really good — at making things smoother, faster, more consistent.
But we cross a line when we try to automate intimacy. That’s where we lose something real.

Because the best brands don’t feel like systems.
They feel like someone thought of me.
Not everyone. Me.

That’s what AI still can’t do. Not really.
Not in the way that matters.

So before you hand off another piece of your business to a tool or a process, ask yourself:

Are we building for speed, or are we building for staying power?
Will anyone remember the moment this felt human?

The brands that matter most aren’t remembered for their efficiency.
They’re remembered for the way they made someone feel seen.
That’s the part only humans get to carry.

I’m not anti-AI. Far from it. I use it every day, and I’ve seen what it makes possible.
But the point of all this technology isn’t to replace what makes us human.
It’s to clear space for more of it.

That’s the kind of AI I believe in—and the kind I help others build toward.

Latest posts by Paul Boomer (see all)