Asking for help in the age of AI
Technology has always been able to provide answers, often more quickly than people can. But, asks Michelle Craig, Founder of UNIT9, with AI becoming more and more prevalent, are we too quick to turn to it rather then the people around us, and if so, at what cost?
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For the past year, we’ve been caught in a rip current. Or, at least, that’s how it feels for me.
The market is shifting, our businesses are shifting, and so we’re all shifting in reaction to it. We hope this change is for the better, but massive shifts are never without skepticism and uncertainty. To put it simply, we need a life raft. We need help, and we need to help each other.
We need help, and we need to help each other.
Even though I’m a leader who finds joy in helping my team, I’ve never been good at asking for help. I’m not alone; this is a growing epidemic, fuelled by the overabundance of readily available, algorithmically accessible support. Yes, I’m talking about ChatGPT.
Above: For a while now, advertising has been caught in the strong current of market uncertainty, technological advancements and algorithmic support systems.
Personally, I’m not using ChatGPT for creative projects, but rather for the more complex aspects of my business and life. Now, as we’re tasked as an industry to work faster and more independently, with increasingly fewer chances to sit elbow-to-elbow, AI is threatening to become our closest confidant at the expense of human connection. It’s understandable why we turn to it: it’s easy, efficient and seemingly harmless.
But, asking for help is fundamentally different, because it's not just about solving problems. It’s about the connection that can happen when we reach out to each other. We experience vulnerability, find common ground, and see quite vividly that we are members of a larger community. In the age of AI, we need to remember that 'answers' aren't the only thing we need to be able sustain ourselves and our businesses. It's the conversation and shared vulnerability that happens when we nurture connection.
Carve out time
Time is our only real commodity. We’re all time-poor — overloaded, overworked and constantly worried about consolidation and cuts. And, if you’re a polite, considerate collaborator, the idea of wasting someone else’s time probably sends a shiver up your spine.
We’re all time-poor — overloaded, overworked, and constantly worried about consolidation and cuts.
So, we turn to a synthetic assistant. It feels like the most efficient solution to a modern dilemma. After all, AI isn’t pressed for time or worried about deadlines, because it can literally be in all places at once.
Asking a human for help, though? That feels like a bridge too far, even icky! But that’s exactly why it matters. Working with other people instead of machines is valuable, and the rarity of it makes it even more precious. We all share the same problems and fears, so it benefits everyone when we prioritise helping each other and find the courage to ask for help ourselves.
Above: We're all time-poor, so tend to turn to machines for help, rather than people, but that's not doing us any good.
Face your fears
I love reading other people’s work and giving feedback; I find it inspiring! But will my work earn the same care in return? Is it worth asking for help when a machine is designed to give it instantly?
Underneath the resistance to asking for help is the fear of being exposed, of being seen as less than, or unworthy of our roles. We joke about imposter syndrome, but when it leads us to isolate, it becomes dangerous. Silence starts to feel like a virtue. It tricks us into thinking that self-sufficiency is the more generous option. As a Virgo, eldest daughter, it speaks to me! Even though I know that’s objectively untrue, the fear is still there.
Know your limits
Here’s the thing: AI is limited by the very thing that makes it convenient. It does precisely what you want it to do. ChatGPT is designed to deliver favourable responses and confirm your thinking. But the human brain? It sees what the best prompt can’t. It brings years of experience, instinct and surprise.
AI is limited by the very thing that makes it convenient. It does precisely what you want it to do.
The truth is, AI fundamentally isn’t a collaborator. It’s an echo chamber. It reflects your own ideas, tone and assumptions right back at you. It’s more of you - polished, agreeable, and often unchallenging. While that familiarity can feel comforting, it’s also a trap. Real growth comes from friction, from the kind of feedback that forces you to question and reconsider.
AI doesn’t know you. It can’t whip up a creative solution from your unique life or lens. It’s a machine. I’ll admit, I’ve asked it for help (I can’t sneeze without asking what’s wrong with me), and I’ve literally had to prompt it with, 'No fawning. Put on your producer hat. Critique me honestly.' It turns out that being told you’re fabulous and flawless is the opposite of helpful when you really need someone to poke holes in your logic.
Above: Working together, and asking for help when we need it, changes us all for the better.
If the advertising and creative industries embraced a culture of help, we’d change for the better. It’s the only way forward. By offering help openly, we chip away at the fear of asking for it. But it has to be genuine, offered without gritted teeth or eyes glued to a screen. Shared creativity used to be at the core of how we worked. We’re at a crossroads: set it aside, or re-engage.
It turns out that being told you’re fabulous and flawless is the opposite of helpful when you really need someone to poke holes in your logic.
If we lose that first layer of humanity, we’re cooked. And if you use AI, don’t stop at the brief or the prompt. Use it as a starting point, but then go further. Talk to your fellow artists and producers. Otherwise, you’re not just outsourcing your ideas, you’re handing over your power.
Advertising and production are team sports, so let’s play like one.
