The Human Touch: Why AI Craft Beats AI Tricks

Remember the "Numa Numa" guy? That beautifully ridiculous lip-sync video that captivated early YouTube wasn't technically impressive—it was just intensely human. Compare that to today's "ballerina cappuccino" AI videos: technically stunning, but forgettable within hours.

The difference? One came from a human being so authentically himself that millions couldn't look away. The other is just novelty wearing thin.

Why "Artificial" Intelligence Misses the Point

Sari Azout gets it right: stop calling it artificial intelligence. It's collective intelligence—a way to tap into everything humans have ever written, painted, or thought. When you use AI, you're not cheating. You're collaborating with the accumulated wisdom of our species.

Think of it like having Virginia Woolf and Gabriel García Márquez in the room, ready to brainstorm. The magic isn't in their presence—it's in what you do with their input.

The Craft vs. Trick Problem

AI has created two camps:

The Trick Camp: People cranking out generic LinkedIn posts, cookie-cutter logos, and those endless "ballerina cappuccino" videos. They've confused output with outcome.

The Craft Camp: People using AI like master craftspeople use their tools—with intention, judgment, and an unmistakably human vision.

A hand letterer doesn't just pick up a pen and make magic. They develop taste, learn when to break rules, and infuse personality into every stroke. AI craft works the same way.

What "Intensely Human" Actually Looks Like

I love Youngme Moon's concept of being "intensely human." It isn't corporate speak—it's a survival strategy. In a world where anyone can generate decent content, being recognizably, authentically you becomes your only moat.

Consider these examples:

• Casey Neistat's vlogs: Technically imperfect, but his manic energy and genuine curiosity made him unmistakable

• David Chang's cooking shows: Not polished food TV, but raw passion for flavor and process

• Simone Giertz's "shitty robots": Deliberately imperfect inventions that reveal her personality in every malfunction

Each could be replicated by AI, but never replaced. Their humanity is the point. If you don't know these folks, check them out.

The Un-LLM-able Test

Here's Azout's litmus test: if you stripped away the byline, would people still know this came from you? Does it carry your fingerprint—your lived experience, your weird obsessions, your particular way of seeing?

Most AI-generated content fails this test spectacularly. It's smooth, competent, and completely forgettable. It's the content equivalent of elevator music.

Crafting with Collective Intelligence

When I was studying for my M. Des. at the Institute of Design in Chicago, my professor made us apply plaka to illustration board with painstaking precision, then sand it smooth before hand-lettering in Univers typeface. This seemed absurd—a Mac was sitting right there in the corner that could do it all instantly.

But that tedious process forced us to think about every stroke, every letter spacing, every decision. The Mac could produce faster, but it couldn't make us consider why we were making what we were making.

New tools seduce us into believing we can produce without thinking. But true creativity—the kind that makes people think and feel—demands deep consideration of our tools and how we use them.

Real AI craft starts with mastering these baseline elements:

Context curation: Building rich, relevant context that gives AI something meaningful to work with. Not just throwing random references at it, but carefully selecting what matters.

Prompt engineering: Learning the language that unlocks what you actually want, not just what sounds impressive. This takes practice, like learning any craft.

Output evaluation: Developing the eye to spot the 1% of AI output that has genuine potential, then knowing how to shape it further.

Iterative refinement: Understanding that first attempts are sketches, not finished pieces. The craft is in the revision.

Knowing what's worth making: Not everything that can be created should be. The bottleneck isn't capability—it's judgment.

Bringing your baggage: Your experiences, biases, and obsessions are features, not bugs. They're what make your work impossible to replicate.

The goal isn't efficiency—it's thoughtful construction of something that moves people. That can't happen without deeply considering not just what we're making, but why and how. And as with any new tool, the craft needs to evolve as the tool does—you need to scan the horizon while you dig like hell.

The Real Competition

You're not competing with AI—you're competing with people who use AI better than you do. And the ones winning aren't the prompt engineers; they're the ones with something to say.

While others chase the latest model or optimization trick, focus on what makes you irreplaceable: your taste, your courage to be wrong, your willingness to be intensely, unapologetically human.

The future belongs to people who can make collective intelligence feel personal. Not because they're the most technical, but because they're the most themselves.

The "ballerina cappuccino" will be forgotten by next week. The "Numa Numa" guy is still remembered twenty years later. Be the Numa Numa guy.