The Myth of the Struggle: Why Pride in Ignorance is Holding Us Back
There is a specific kind of pride that masquerades as maturity—a performative adherence to "the hard way" that believes if a result isn't achieved through maximum struggle, it hasn’t been earned. I saw this firsthand in a recent group project. When we were confronted with a knowledge gap, I used AI to bridge it, ensuring our collective success. My teammate, an older student who prides herself on her "traditional" approach, was visibly affronted. She looked me in the eye and said, "I’d rather use my brain and get the answer wrong."
In that moment, the absurdity was blinding. It wasn’t just a stubborn preference; it was a celebration of ignorance. I have known real struggle—I grew up in an unsealed house in Trinidad where we didn't have a toilet, where I used a bucket to pee and had to go to my uncle’s house to defecate. I know what it’s like to live in a house where the walls didn't keep out the bats or the locusts. Because I have lived through genuine adversity, it is jarring to watch someone pretend to "struggle" for the sake of their own pride. She wasn't fighting to protect human intellect; she was fighting to maintain the status quo of her own ego.
The Cycle of Resistance
History is a graveyard of these exact complaints. Every generation has its gatekeepers who view new technology as a threat to their perceived superiority. They operate under the delusion that by refusing to evolve, they are preserving something sacred. In reality, they are simply choosing to be left behind by a world that has moved on to higher-level problems.
The same people who decry the use of AI are often the very ones who shame the practice of Googling. If I pull out my phone to verify a fact, I am treated as if I am cheating, or as if I am "lesser" for not having the information memorized. It is astounding that in an era where we have the sum of human knowledge in the palm of our hand, some people would prefer to remain in the dark. They treat the ability to access information as a crutch, failing to realize that it is a modern miracle.
The Projection of the Insecure
The most jarring part of this encounter was her attempt to insult my creativity. She claimed that using AI limits one’s creative capacity—a hollow assertion from someone who defines creativity within a very narrow scope. She couldn't see that while she limits her creative output to a small carpentry corner in her apartment, I am balancing a publishing company, a clothing line, an author’s career, and the digital architecture of multiple family businesses.
I built the websites that drive real-world sales and receive constant professional praise; I write the blogs that sustain my brand. I am not "limited" by AI; I am empowered by it. I use it as an administrative assistant to clear the brush of the mundane, leaving me free to execute the creative vision that builds these ventures from the ground up. To be insulted by someone whose creative output is a fraction of my own—by someone who chooses to prioritize a performative "traditional" struggle over actual productivity—is the ultimate irony.
The Cost of Stagnation
Stubbornness, when rebranded as "maturity," helps no one. There is a common, lazy retort that "all sources aren't accurate," used to justify avoiding technology entirely. But this ignores the skill of information literacy. The ability to distinguish a legitimate source from an unreliable one is the most critical skill of the 21st century. Refusing to use the tool because you might find "bad" information is like refusing to walk outside because you might encounter a storm.
In a group setting, this refusal to adapt is actively selfish—a choice to prioritize one’s own pride over the objective. The world is accelerating, and the tools at our disposal are evolving in ways that make the old models of "work" look increasingly inefficient. You don’t have to embrace every new technology, but you should never hate what you refuse to understand. There is no nobility in being wrong because you were too proud to verify the truth. When we cling to the past simply because it is familiar, we don't just stay in place—we become obsolete.
After all, as I explore in my book: Your Ego is Your Biggest Downfall. The future is moving forward; you are either learning to drive the new machinery, or you are getting left in the dust.
