I’m a millennial, a child of the ’90s, an otaku (= a Japanese term for someone with an extreme passion for a particular hobby, especially in the areas of anime, manga, video games, or pop culture), and yes, I still listen to the music of

Frank Schindel, who shaped pretty much every anime song from my childhood. Of course, I watch *Stranger Things*, play video games, and watch just about every K-, C-, and J-drama I can get my hands on. And in case you’re wondering if something important is missing from this list: Of course, I’m a Blink (= a Blackpink fan) and part of the Army ( BTS fans), even though I grew up listening to Girls’ Generation, Lee Hyori, and Boa.

Between Nostalgia and Progress

Why am I writing this? Because the whole world talks about authenticity, but you really have to dig deep beneath the sleek, polished facade to find it. I know that some of you feel the same way. You’re desperately searching for individuality, passion, and something special. I don’t want to get completely lost in nostalgia here, but we used to wear our older siblings’ clothes, traded Diddle magazines, fell asleep to Linkin Park songs (which is still a mystery to my mom to this day), and went crazy whenever the video store got a new movie we hadn’t seen yet.

I’m not surprised that some of these trends are making a comeback—that Diddle is “in” again, that vinyl records are enjoying a sustained “run,” and that people are increasingly longing for in-person events where they can sit together, read, dance, sing, or strike up conversations. In my circle, however, these kinds of gatherings are becoming increasingly rare.

Of course, I could just blame social media or my own age. That would settle the matter, and this post would come to a quick end, but let’s be honest:

We’ve gotten a little comfortable here, too.

Convenience comes at a price

We gratefully embraced these little supercomputers, finding it thrilling to become voyeurs through social media and gain a glimpse into the lives of others. I mean, who wants to walk the fine line of criminality for the rest of their life by not even knowing how to spell the word “copyright” while burning a CD, when these days we have Spotify, Netflix, Amazon Prime, and the like? We’re probably also glad to be rid of fax machines and to be able to participate in the democratization of knowledge that was previously accessible only to select institutions.

So I’m not entirely succumbing to the romanticization of the past here, because the advantages of the present are simply too striking for that. What I view very critically in this context, however, is the authenticity described at the beginning, which, in my opinion, isn’t really enhanced by AI. Or to put it a bit more bluntly:

When I look at today’s AI-generated content, I have to admit that I often find myself thinking that many of these posts are interchangeable, soulless bullshit.

But it’s not just the boring, repetitive nonsense we read every day. After all, we already had that before in the form of poorly worded marketing campaigns.

The Illusion of Our Own Competence

AI creates a kind of illusion of competence within us; that is, we run the risk of increasingly falling into the belief that we can virtually outsource our cognitive abilities and thereby become all-knowing. As a result, we lose the ability to trust our own metacognition—that is, the process that enables us to reflect on, observe, question, and control our own thought processes.

The whole thing reaches an even higher level of absurdity, because the industrial production of trivialities—which AI itself increasingly draws upon and uses as the basis for its training—leads to a never-ending cycle of banalities and dumbing down. As a result, the quality of the content inevitably deteriorates, especially when AI is trained exclusively on content generated by other AI agents (see “Model Collapse” or “ autophagy loop”).

In everyday life, we see this in the classic examples: incorrect sources, lack of commas, countless hyphens, “poem-like” responses, and the use of the same phrases over and over again.

To break this cycle, we need a collaborative, pluralistic algorithm—that is, an AI that doesn’t try to conform to your expectations and provide the desired answer, but instead offers several alternative answers to strengthen your own cognitive abilities. This makes it possible to shift back from the uncontrolled “autopilot mode” to the critical “examination mode.”

Of course, not all of us can lead the revolution against Big Tech and develop an AI that perfectly matches this vision, but what we can do is remember who we were and who we want to be.

On social media, we constantly navigate solely through the lives of others, scrolling uncontrollably, impulsively, and almost excessively through their dreams, ideas, and ultimately through third-party offers. I’m no exception here, and yes, I’m a serial entrepreneur—of course, I, too, want to show the world who I am and what I can accomplish by drawing attention to the issues I care about.

Back to My Own Voice

What I want much more, however, is to read good stories, get to know people who are honest with themselves, and encounter perspectives from people with whom I can identify. For me, female role models in particular deserve the spotlight, which laid the foundation for the launch of the online magazine FemalExperts has posted. I’m also increasingly using the comments section on LinkedIn here, because my community has figured out that whenever I post looking for experts, all the leading figures in the professional and corporate worlds comment on just about every post—and I gratefully accept this as an invitation to network with them, connect, and perhaps even collaborate.

For this reason, I’d like to offer a “nudge” here—a little nudge—to guide you today:

Forget superlatives like “higher,” “further,” “faster,” “smarter,” “more beautiful,” or “more resilient.”

Visibility Requires Personality

Instead, remember that there’s something essential that social media and AI can’t do: evoke that feeling you get when a song from your childhood comes on and you just can’t stay seated. Create a story that moves others to tears or inspires them to take action. To foster a sense of connection and belonging among strangers meeting for the first time—whether digitally or in person—because that’s something only you can do.

So if you feel like sharing your story and putting yourself out there, remember: Courage never replaces fear. It comes before fear, and sometimes it follows fear, too—because you’re stepping out of your comfort zone. I’d be thrilled if we could step out of that comfort zone together and if you’d like to share your favorite song, your childhood memories, or your ideas and dreams with me.

Maybe we’ll catch up on the FemalExperts podcast, rock a workshop together, or connect virtually via LinkedIn. Either way, I’m glad you took the time to read this post, and I promise you: It’s 100% my own work—AI still has a thing or two to learn from me.