Hacks vs. Artists

Why the future belongs to those who prioritize their craft.

My wife and I recently started watching Hacks, the HBO TV series starring Jean Smart and Hannah Einbinder, about a legendary comedian trying to stay relevant in a changing world. It’s funny, the writing is fantastic, and there are lots of great plot twists.

But I really love the show because it explores the tension between doing something for money versus doing it for the art itself. Smart, who plays the veteran comedian, seems to care more about the commercial aspects of comedy (i.e., money and fame) while Einbinder, her writing partner, cares more about the artistic aspects (i.e., truth and authenticity).

In this regard, Smart is closer to the “hack” while Einbinder is more like the “artist.”

Every creator on Earth sits somewhere on this continuum between hack and artist. If you don’t know which is which, here are some examples to help guide you:

• Giving bad financial advice just to go viral? Hack.

• Promoting work that you are truly proud of? Artist.

• Making a fool of yourself to get more engagement? Hack.

• Turning down a lucrative project because it is low quality? Artist.

• Passing off AI writing as your own? Hack.

• Admitting to mistakes before others call you out on them? Artist.

You get the point. Hacks do what they think works. They follow every trend and try to maximize money/status/fame wherever possible. Artists, on the other hand, care about what they actually produce and how it reflects on them. Few creators are complete hacks or complete artists. Most are some mixture of the two.

While I wish I could say I’ve always been an artist, I haven’t been. At times, I’ve cared a bit too much about financial rewards. I’ve taken on some partnerships that I probably shouldn’t have. And while I made some mistakes, I also tried really hard to stay true to myself and what I believe in. It’s a delicate balance, especially when you’ve never done it before.

This categorization applies to anyone in any line of work too. You don’t have to be a creator to embody the essence of a hack or an artist. You can be either, whether you’re a waiter or a wealth manager.

For example, if you’re a financial advisor, do you see your clients as people you serve (artist) or as a source of revenue to capture (hack)? I get that we all need revenue to survive, but, at some point, the marginal dollar isn’t worth it.

So why do hacks exist in the first place? Because the rewards are quicker and require far less effort. More importantly, as we get rewarded for certain behaviors, we’re more likely to repeat these behaviors rather than risk trying something new.

This idea is called mode collapse and it helps explain why all the AI writing sounds the same. Henrik Karlsson wrote a great piece explaining how this occurs:

Mode collapse is when a generative model (most notoriously GANs) stops producing diverse outputs and instead obsessively reproduces a small subset of patterns that reliably fool the discriminator. We’ve seen this happen with language models. The early models, up until about 2020, were deranged but could write spectacularly surprising prose from time to time. Now the models are much smarter, but they all write in that uncanny AI voice. “And honestly? That isn’t just sad—it’s stylistic trauma.” The wide space of potential ways of thinking and writing has collapsed into a limited mode.

Karlsson notes that the same thing happens to us as humans. Our creativity is stripped out of us by adolescence as we get rewarded for producing work that is acceptable, rather than creative. In other words, we’re incentivized to become hacks.

You might think that the difference between being a hack and being an artist is a hypothetical one, but it isn’t. It’s fundamental to how you show up in the world. If you see yourself as an artist, you will make different choices than if you’re motivated solely by money or fame.

I raise this issue because many people are rightly worried about the continued improvements in AI and whether their work will be replaced by LLMs. As someone who makes a large portion of their income from writing, I get it.

At the same time, I know I can’t control how humanity will use AI in the future. I can’t control the progress of LLMs. The only thing I can control is my behavior.

And the same is true for you. Dan Koe wrote an intriguing piece about the future of AI titled “You have about 24 months to learn these skills.” In it he argues that AI today is like Gutenberg’s printing press from the mid-1400s:

The printing press rendered scribes obsolete. Before Gutenberg, bookmakers employed dozens of trained artisans to hand-copy manuscripts. A skill that took years to master. Before they knew it, that skillset was worthless. A single press could produce 3,600 pages per workday. The scribes who refused to adapt disappeared. The ones who learned to operate the new machines thrived.

I believe it’s true that those who learn to use AI effectively will outperform those who don’t.

However, Koe’s argument misses a fundamental point about the difference between the printing press and AI. The printing press replaced a job that didn’t need to be done by a human. One scribe was no different than another. Their uniqueness as individuals didn’t matter for the work they produced.

But that’s not completely true with AI. AI is trying to replace writers, designers, and many other creatives. Their work always has a source. And that source has experiences. And those experiences shape the work being produced.

An LLM, by contrast, doesn’t have experience. It can only approximate experience because its uniqueness doesn’t exist. AI is the sterile amalgamation of all humans rather than the beautiful imperfections of one.

This is why you still have an edge over the most advanced computational machines in the world. Because though these machines might be faster than you, more knowledgeable than you, and cheaper than you, they still aren’t...you.

That’s what matters. That sliver of uniqueness. That humanity that can’t be replaced. Of course, if your current job requires no part of your personality or experiences, then you should start looking for one that does.

While I disagree with some of Dan Koe’s logic, his ultimate thesis is right—what you do over the next 24 months will shape how your career plays out over the next 24 years. Whether you use that time to be a hack or an artist is up to you.

Thank you for reading!

This article was originally published at: https://ofdollarsanddata.com/hacks-vs-artists/