AI Is the GPS That Made Me Forget How to Read a Map
There's a moment I keep having.
I open a problem. A bug, a blank component, a feature I need to figure out. And before I've even read it fully — before my brain has had five seconds to actually think — my hand is already moving.
Tab. New chat. Paste.
And the worst part? I don't even notice I'm doing it anymore.
It happened again last week. I was staring at a layout bug. Nothing serious. The kind of thing I've fixed a hundred times. But something felt uncomfortable about just... sitting with it. About not knowing the answer immediately. So I opened the prompt box. Typed the problem. Got the fix.
It worked. I moved on.
But later, I kept thinking: did I just solve that? Or did I just collect the solution?
Because those two things used to feel the same. Now I'm not sure they are.
The GPS Thing
I want to talk about GPS for a second. Because I think it's the most honest comparison I've found for what's happening to us.
Before GPS, getting somewhere new was an experience. You looked at a map. You planned a route. You made a wrong turn, figured out where you went wrong, corrected it. By the time you arrived, you knew how you got there. You could describe it. You could do it again without help.
Now? I can get to almost any address in my city. But if you took my phone away and asked me to explain the route, I genuinely couldn't. I know the destination. I have no idea about the journey.
GPS didn't make me a worse driver. I'm probably a faster one. But it quietly outsourced the part of navigation that builds spatial memory. And I didn't notice it happening until the moment I needed that memory and it wasn't there.
AI did the same thing to my thinking. And I let it.
When Did the Discomfort Start Feeling Wrong?
Here's what I've been sitting with.
There used to be a feeling at the start of a hard problem. A kind of productive discomfort. Not panic — just that low hum of I don't know yet, but I'm going to figure this out. That feeling was the start of actual thinking. Of following a thread. Of making mistakes and learning something real from them.
I don't feel that as often anymore.
Now the discomfort arrives and almost immediately I'm looking for somewhere to put it. Somewhere that will take it away fast. And the prompt box is always right there. Patient. Instant. Never annoyed that I asked again.
The problem isn't that I use AI. The problem is that I've started treating uncertainty like a bug to be fixed instead of a process to be experienced.
And that shift happened so slowly I didn't see it until I was already on the other side of it.
The Part That Actually Scared Me
A few months ago, a friend asked me to explain how something worked. Not to build it. Just to explain it.
Something I'd used in three projects. Something I'd shipped to production. Something I thought I understood.
And I opened my mouth, and... the explanation wasn't there. I knew it worked. I'd seen it work. But I'd never actually built the understanding. I'd just collected outputs and moved on.
I went home and asked AI to explain it to me. It did. Clearly. In about forty seconds.
And I thought: I've been using this thing for months, and this is the first time I've actually understood it.
That was uncomfortable in a different way. Not the productive kind.
Are We Using AI, or Just Renting Thinking?
This is the question I keep coming back to.
Because there are two very different things you can do with AI.
You can use it as a tool. Something you reach for after you've thought, when you're stuck, when you need a second opinion, when you want to move faster on something you already understand. That version of AI is genuinely powerful. It amplifies what you already have.
Or you can use it as a shortcut past the thinking entirely. Skip the discomfort. Go straight to the answer. Never sit with not-knowing long enough for anything to stick.
That version is seductive because it works. You still ship. You still get the answer. The output is the same.
But something is different on the inside. And over time, that difference adds up.
The GPS gets you to the destination either way. But only one version of the journey leaves you knowing where you are.
The Anxiety Nobody Talks About
Here's the thing I haven't seen many people admit.
There's a specific anxiety that comes with not having the prompt box open. A restlessness. A sense of exposure. Like you're working without a safety net and something could go wrong at any moment.
That feeling is new. I didn't have it three years ago. Back then, not knowing something immediately just meant you didn't know it yet. It was a normal part of thinking.
Now not-knowing feels like a problem to be solved in seconds. And the seconds are ticking.
I think that anxiety is worth paying attention to. Not because AI is bad. But because that feeling is information. It's telling you something about what you've quietly outsourced — and whether you're okay with that.
I'm still figuring out my own answer.
The Question Worth Asking Yourself
Not "should I use AI less?" That's not a useful question. AI isn't going anywhere and neither is its usefulness.
The better question is:
When you close the prompt box and sit with a problem alone — how long before the discomfort becomes unbearable?
Ten minutes? Two? Thirty seconds?
Because that window — the time between opening a problem and reaching for AI — that's where your actual thinking lives. That's where you build the spatial memory. That's where the understanding that sticks gets made.
If that window is shrinking, it's worth noticing.
That's all. Just noticing.
Two Things I'm Trying (Not Advice, Just Honest)
I set a "think first" timer. Ten minutes. Problem open. No AI. Just me and the discomfort. Sometimes I solve it. Sometimes I don't. But every time, I show up to the AI with a much better question — and I actually understand the answer when it comes.
I ask AI to explain, not just solve. Instead of "fix this," I've started asking "explain why this is broken." It takes longer. The answer is less clean. But something actually transfers.
Neither of these is a cure. I still reach for the prompt box too fast sometimes. Probably today.
But at least now I notice when I do it.
So here's the open question I'll leave you with:
Are you using AI to go further than you could alone? Or are you using it to avoid the part of the journey where the real learning happens?
Both are honest answers. Neither is comfortable.
Drop yours in the comments. I'm genuinely curious which one you'll admit to. 👇
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