AI, Dunning-Kruger, and the Erosion of Craftsmanship

On January 6th, 1995, two bank robbers in Pittsburgh baffled law enforcement by making no attempt to conceal their faces. Instead, they brazenly looked directly at security cameras, convinced they were invisible.

Clifton Earl Johnson had assured his accomplice, McArthur Wheeler, that applying lime juice to their faces would render them undetectable by cameras, much like how lime juice can serve as "invisible ink" until heated. As a preliminary test, Johnson took a Polaroid of Wheeler, which showed his face smudged. The possibility of a camera fault or the need for a second test never occurred to them.

This astounding over-confidence in a flawed method intrigued psychologists Justin Kruger and David Dunning. They embarked on a study to investigate if a common cognitive bias exists in how people assess their skills versus their actual performance. Their findings confirmed such a bias, now widely known as the Dunning-Kruger Effect.

The Dunning-Kruger Effect is a cognitive bias where individuals with limited expertise or ability mistakenly believe they possess superior knowledge or skill. This overestimation stems from their insufficient knowledge, which prevents them from recognizing their own inadequacies.

One might consider the Dunning-Kruger Effect to be the inverse of Impostor Syndrome. While Impostor Syndrome causes individuals to doubt their genuine successes, the Dunning-Kruger Effect leads people to declare themselves experts and highly capable in areas where they have little to no real understanding.

In recent years, the technology sector has increasingly embraced this mindset. It began with an incessant demand for rapid product releases and immediate, exponential success. Anything that doesn't achieve rapid, large-scale growth from day one is often deemed a failure.

Fakers Instead of Makers

The mantra "fake it till you make it" is frequently dispensed as sincere advice, stripped of all irony. Deception and the artificial inflation of metrics are often viewed as shrewd tactics, sustained until one hypothetically acquires the necessary resources and knowledge to perform a task competently. KPIs (Key Performance Indicators) and OKRs (Objectives and Key Results) are often framed not as measures of actual delivery but as aspirational statements. Furthermore, failing to aggressively pursue a promotion every six months can lead to one being perceived as lacking ambition or a "growth mindset." In essence, we actively encourage boastful behavior and language, reminiscent of Muhammad Ali's pre-fight press conferences in the 60s or old-school rappers from the 70s and 80s.

AI Bots Excel at Faking Knowledge

Even more concerning, my interactions with AI chatbots often evoke similar sentiments. They frequently deliver highly confident yet utterly nonsensical answers, often cloaking their errors in sycophantic language designed to make me feel good for pointing out their deficiencies, despite having wasted my time. A pleasant-sounding, positive, or system-engaging response often takes precedence over accuracy. The primary objective, it seems, is user interaction time, not helping me find the correct answer.

Generative AI Makes You a Genius Without Any Effort

The alluring promise of generative AI—to transform anyone into an artist, wordsmith, composer, or videographer using "intelligent" tools—is a significant step into Dunning-Kruger territory. Concepts like "vibe coding" or "vibe anything" prioritize the superficial result over the mastery of the craft itself. We are encouraged to create without learning the fundamentals or understanding the underlying art. We are told we are too clever and busy for such traditional learning. Instead, simply provide a prompt and instantly generate a product, app, or agent to execute our commands. We are constantly assured of our inherent genius, provided we delegate the "boring" work to machines. Our egos are pandered to by digital cheerleaders and confidence tricksters.

Stop Wasting Time Learning the Craft

The idea of investing human effort—truly creating and writing oneself—is often dismissed as a waste of time, a failure to embrace change and progress. However, the true cost is the erosion of craftsmanship and the loss of the profound joy inherent in creation. Creativity, in all its forms, is inherently messy, fraught with errors, and prone to setbacks. Yet, these very imperfections contribute to our humanity and define who we are. As Leonard Cohen wisely observed, "There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." You might not excel at painting, composing, writing, or filmmaking. Nevertheless, a flawed, human effort holds infinitely more value than commissioning a machine to produce a bland, crowd-pleasing solution that lacks intrinsic merit.

I find this trend deeply troubling and do not perceive it as genuine progress. Instead, it feels like a form of deception, diluting the essence of craft and art. Politics, too, have devolved into attacks on intelligence, decency, and research, favoring simplistic narratives of returning to an idealized "past when things were better." Social media has become an addiction machine driven by metrics, stripped of its original "social" purpose. But you know what? I choose not to succumb to this. I will continue to do what I do: I write down thoughts I deem important; I paint, despite my lack of skill; I publish on my blog because no one can stop me. Admittedly, I often feel like a fraud when my efforts receive unexpected praise. Yet, the joy of creation is a treasure we must never abandon. If you ever feel your work isn't good enough or worthwhile, remember that it is. Even if its quality isn't "amazing," you created it, and it is uniquely yours. Perhaps, you're not the best judge of your own work anyway; one person's disappointment might be another's joy. Keep creating, keep striving for improvement, and if others impress you, tell them so.