Your Daily Sparring Session

Last post I told you humanity is forking into three groups. (If you missed that, start here.)  

Two of those groups are quietly getting dumber. One is becoming something close to superhuman. I also promised we’d figure out which group you are in. Let’s settle that.

But first, a warning…

Because odds are, you’ve already picked your group. Almost everyone reads about Group One, the ones who shun AI and shrink, and think, “not me.” They read about Group Two, the ones who outsource their thinking and atrophy, and think, “definitely not me.” They land comfortably on Group Three. The Sovereign Operators. 

Everybody thinks they’re he superhumans in training.  And the Group Two person — the one losing IQ points fastest — is the most certain of it. That’s not a coincidence, that’s the syndrome in action. 

The whole tragedy of Group Two is that it feels exactly like Group Three from the inside. You’re using AI constantly. You’re producing more than ever. You feel sharp, fast, capable. Atrophy doesn’t announce itself. 

So we can’t trust how it feels. We need a tell.

A tell is the small, involuntary behavior that gives away the truth no matter what story you’re telling yourself. Poker players have them. Liars have them. And it turns out, so do our three groups.

Here’s yours. It takes about ten seconds to run…

Think about the last time AI gave you an answer. Any answer. Now ask yourself, honestly: what did you do in the next ten seconds?

Group One never asked the question. They’re not even in the room.

Group Two took the answer. Maybe they changed a word. Maybe they copy pasted it and hit send. The answer arrived, and the thinking stopped. 

Group Three did something almost no one does…

They pushed back. Asked what it was missing. They ordered it to make the opposite case, then attacked that too. They treated the answer not as a destination but as a punching bag. They used the machine to find the holes in their own thinking — not to plug those holes with someone else’s.

That’s the tell. Not how often you use AI, much it cranks out for you. But one question: 

Do you ever tell the machine it’s wrong?

Because the person becoming sovereign is the only one in the building who argues with the oracle. Everyone else kneels. Honestly, I believe the single most productive part of my week is when I’m in a knock down drag out fight with Neo, my AI agent. 

So, worth some critical thinking… 

When was the last time you pushed back on an AI answer? Not fixed a typo — but seriously questioned the premise and challenged the thinking. Made it defend itself. Told it the conclusion was too safe, too average, too obvious. 

If you can’t remember, you have your answer. And it’s not the one you wanted. Here’s why this one simple behavior reveals so much…

AI is a prediction engine. By design, it hands you the most likely, most average, most consensus answer — dressed up in very confident prose. Accept it, and you’ve outsourced your mind to the average of everyone who ever typed on the internet. 

You didn’t get smarter. You got more average, faster, while feeling brilliant.

But the moment you argue with AI, force it to defend a position and then dismantle it, you stop consuming the average. You start using the machine to press against your own mind until something new appears. That “new thing” is the dyad I mentioned in the first post, the moment when 1+1=3. 

The difference was never the AI. The difference is whether you’re leading the debate with AI or asking it to do your thinking for you.  

Most people who read this will feel a small sting, shrug, and go back to accepting answers by dinner. That’s Group Two protecting itself. A mind that quit will always tell you it’s still working.

But a few of you felt something else. A flicker of recognition. A quiet “…oh.” That flicker is the most valuable thing in your world right now. It’s Group Three, still alive in there, tapping on the glass, saying, “Let me the fuck out of here!”  

So, here’s your homework this week... 

The next three times AI hands you an answer — anything — you’re not allowed to accept it. You have to fight it first. Ask: “What’s the strongest case against this?” Then: “What would someone smarter than both of us say I’m missing?” Then take its answer and push again. Three rounds, minimum.

Watch what happens. I’m betting that you’ll feel your own mind wake up: that mildly uncomfortable, slightly electric sensation of actually thinking. That’s the workout Group Two never gets, because they quit at the first rep.

Knowing which group you’re in is worth nothing if you stay there. But the good news, is that your group isn’t a verdict. Essentially,  it’s simply a habit. 

Nobody created a caste system and put Group One in it.  As Dylan pointed out in the comments on post one, dismissing this group will cause them to dig their heels in even further.  And we can’t write off the percentage who see AI as catastrophe:  job loss, or even Skynet.  Our responsibility is to be reaching out to them. 

Likewise, nobody sentenced Group Two to a life sentence without parole. They’re drifting there, one accepted answer at a time. Which means they can walk out the same way they walked in.

Next post, I’ll show you exactly how the third group trains: the daily practice that turns AI from an oracle you obey into a sparring partner that makes you dangerous.

Until then, go argue with something.

Peace,

– RG

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