Preface?#
In this era of digital–physical symbiosis (Phygital),
the internet has become another living space for modern humans;
artificial intelligence, a new neighbor in our daily lives.
The COVID-19 pandemic made people experience the power of technology to connect us, yet few have truly confronted its ability to fracture trust between us. Big data, algorithms, and AI—these invisible hands—shape human life and growth. Digital witch hunts, money, and efficiency make this world feel frighteningly dull. People are gradually losing privacy; digital footprints are defenselessly recorded, collected, cleaned, and then reborn—refined into artificial intelligence. Strands and sticks, technology not only connects us, but also tears us apart.
“We Should Not Have Connected.” (Death Stranding 2)
Today, the internet is flooded with AI-generated content, as if we have returned to the era of Wikipedia. Back then, students were taught not to blindly trust Wikipedia, and books were still regarded as the most reliable sources of knowledge. Now—not just Wikipedia, but news outlets, social platforms, and even academic publishing platforms are filled with AI-generated articles. Ironically, Wikipedia—created by purely human communities—has become a rare stream of clarity (at least, I’m referring to the era before GPT-3.5).
One group calmly accepts AI-generated information without reflection, treating AI as truth. Another group exhausts every possible means to prove and verify that it is real, that the information is correct. Truth and falsehood, human and AI—does this endless binary debate still matter in this era? History repeats itself. Twenty years from now, all of these discussions will likely be forgotten. Whether value endures or not—leaving it to academia to judge feels somewhat hypocritical. Is trust built through time? Or dissolved by time through forgetting?
AI will not replace you, and people who use AI will not replace you.
You are not replaced—you are eroded by AI until you are no longer yourself.
Perhaps this is a backlash against the contemporary pursuit of diversity and multiplicity. Humans are formatted through complex rules, forced back into uniformity. Maybe only when the world is no longer so diverse will the value of breaking frameworks be rediscovered. The question remains: does AI’s tendency toward convergence amplify and strengthen individual uniqueness, or does it dilute and flatten it? This is not only about design, but about human existence itself.
For now, this series is titled: “暫存 Draft.” (Named by AI.)
This is my first attempt to share relatively serious viewpoints on a more public platform. As fragments of time and thought, I try not to let these texts settle for too long. I do not spend time verifying facts while writing. Precision is not the goal. Objective information may not be correct; subjective thoughts even less so. But I can guarantee one thing: these words are generated from a single human mind. Whether they are true or false—I don’t care. What matters is the present moment: establishing anchors, and having a conversation with the future.
A personal social experiment: revisiting this in one year to see how much of myself has been consumed by AI. At this point, after three years of heavy AI usage, I estimate about 30%. Is this 30% a loss or a form of growth? “I don’t know.” (At least I can still recognize and control myself enough not to casually say that phrase.) Only time can tell. In any case, research has become somewhat boring. Through this series, I want to pursue something interesting again.
Finally, I quote a line by Thomas Heatherwick (I think):
“Buildings should nourish us when we encounter them.”
(Humanise, 人本建築)
The same applies to technology, design, and research.
With blessings.
“David might make mistakes, please verify.”
