A little over a decade ago, I stopped keeping up with the ever-changing tech landscape. Sites like TechCrunch, Ars Technica, Engadget, and The Verge made it clear that people like me were no longer welcome—that the world would be better off if I simply stood aside while more "compassionate" voices shaped the future. The result was a rapid expansion of Usenet- and 4chan-like vitriol, combined with a condescending form of censorship across the English-speaking Internet. I wanted no part of it. Instead, I retreated to my own little playgrounds—10Centuries and various Lesson Management Systems used by schools around the world.
Over the past six months, however, I’ve been trying to re-engage, to understand how the average person uses technology today and whether someone with an entrepreneurial spirit can still carve out a living—without becoming an "influencer" chasing the meme of the day.
Despite hundreds of hours spent reading articles, watching self-proclaimed experts on YouTube, and engaging in online discussions, I still don’t have an answer. Worse, I’m starting to question whether I have anything left to offer the world that a machine can't replicate. The things I enjoy most—software development, photography, writing, even driving—can now be done faster and more efficiently by AI. Sure, machine-generated work lacks the spark of human creativity, but technically speaking, the results are flawless.
Systems like Bolt.new can write software at a junior developer level. Sora and similar models generate hyper-realistic images with a deep understanding of artistic composition. DeepSeek produces some of the best 800-word articles you’ll find. Tesla’s self-driving technology is advancing to the point where people may soon travel from point A to B without ever looking up from their screens. For most people, the output of these tools are already "good enough" to employ full time.
So where does that leave me? Will I need to flip burgers or stock shelves just to pay the bills and enjoy my passions as hobbies? That was fine when I was 17 and working at Burger King, but I’m quite a bit older now. And at the rate AI-powered robotics are improving, even those jobs might soon be automated.
In December, I agreed to terminate my employment contract in mid-March, once a few projects were completed. Since then, I’ve had several job interviews, but none of the companies could offer what I need: at least 80% of my current take-home pay and complete transparency in the workplace. The money wasn’t usually the problem—the real sticking point was transparency. Every employer seemed to expect me to tolerate dishonesty. I refused.
No, thank you. I played that game for far too long, and it cost me everything of value.
For decades, friends have told me I should run my own business, doing what I love, because they see the value in it. I appreciate the sentiment, but turning that vision into reality is incredibly difficult. Fortunately, difficult doesn’t mean impossible.
The Internet has changed dramatically over the past decade. There were things I thought I understood, only to realise I was years out of date. But one pattern keeps emerging, especially among people over 40: artificial burnout. People are tired of fake things. AI-generated images feel frustrating rather than whimsical. Movies that rely too heavily on CGI are losing their appeal. YouTube videos with AI-generated voices and stock footage are dismissed without a second thought.
People are growing tired of constantly asking, "Is this real?" Instead, they just want real things.
That, I believe, is an opportunity—for anyone looking to earn a living, or even just a little extra, from creative pursuits. Transparency. Honesty. Reality. Those who can offer these things may find a highly receptive audience.
And that’s exactly where I plan to focus my energy.