One of the quiet failures of most startup books is that they assume founders have time to read them. The reality is that most founders consume ideas in the cracks between everything else. On the morning commute. While walking the dog. At the gym. Audiobooks fit that reality far better than a hardback ever will, which is why I always planned to release an audio version of The Growth Equation.
The shift from search box to chat box is reshaping the web. And the companies building the models want to own the browser that delivers it. But to understand what’s shifting, it’s worth remembering how we got here.
For decades, marketing has been a game of visibility. Say something loud enough, often enough, and eventually people will remember you. That was the awareness era — billboards, banner ads, jingles you couldn’t scrub from your brain even if you tried.
I meet a lot of designers who say something like, “I’m okay at UI design, but what I really want to be doing is strategy.”
I get it. In large organisations with mature design systems, visual and interaction design can start to feel like assembling someone else’s product from pre-approved parts. It’s easy to crave something higher up the food chain — a seat in those mysterious meetings where “strategy” supposedly happens.
Author’s note: The below essay is a piece of speculative fiction. It’s not reportage, it’s not a prediction, and it’s not intended to describe, depict, or accuse any real political party, public figure, broadcaster, department, policy, or event. The policies, quotes, characters, and actions in this story are entirely invented for narrative purposes. What I’m trying to explore is how ordinary people — people like the characters you’ll meet — could end up accepting things we’d currently call unthinkable. Treat this as a near-future ghost story about economics, belonging, and what we’re willing to normalise when we’re scared.
As artificial intelligence continues to evolve, it’s becoming clear that many of today’s most powerful models have been trained on the collective output of the internet: blogs, articles, forums, books, podcasts, and countless other forms of media — all without consent. Unlike traditional creative industries, where reuse often comes with licensing fees, attribution, or royalties, AI’s use of this material has so far operated in a grey area: one that assumes participation without permission and generates value without compensation.