How to Panic Responsibly About AI

When fear keeps us from learning, we miss out on the power to shape the future

Before we get started, I have a favor to ask this week. I’ve been publishing these how-to newsletters for a few months now, and I’m wondering if they're something I should continue doing. Would you let me know what you think of them in this poll? Feel free to share more thoughts in the comments or by replying!

Now on to this week’s.

Last week, Laura Cox Kaplan — host of the She Said/She Said podcast — shared a New York Times article on Instagram titled “Which Workers Will A.I. Hurt the Most?”. She asked what we thought, and something in me sparked.

Because while it’s a fair question, I think it’s also only part of the conversation.

We’re so busy asking, “Who will AI hurt?” that we forget to ask, “Who might AI help?”

And beyond that: How do we learn enough to answer either question for ourselves?

Fear is understandable. But it shouldn’t be the end of the story.

Almost every day, I talk to someone — a friend, a client, someone in my DMs — who confesses they’re scared of AI.

Not because they’ve tried it and found it lacking. But because of what they’ve read in the media. Because of what their colleagues might say. Because of the voices online telling them that using AI is cheating, unethical, or lazy.

And so they hold back. They avoid it. They don’t experiment, don’t test, don’t play.

They don’t get the chance to discover what’s actually true for them.

We’re shaming people out of their own learning process.

And that, to me, is the real loss.

What does it mean to panic responsibly?

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know this phrase — panic responsibly — is one I use a lot. It’s my personal philosophy for how we move through big, complex, sometimes scary changes. Especially ones that involve technology, politics, or both.

To panic responsibly doesn’t mean ignoring fear. It means honoring it — but not getting stuck in it.

It means asking better questions. Learning the terrain. Making informed decisions. And keeping some sense of humor or humility along the way.

So what does it look like when it comes to AI?

🧭 A Framework: How to Panic Responsibly About AI

Here’s how I’m thinking about it right now:

1. Pause: What exactly are you afraid of? Is it job loss? Creative integrity? Loss of control? Tech elitism? Not understanding the tools? Being judged for using them. Name the fear. Don’t shame it — but don’t let it stay vague either.

2. Learn: Instead of relying only on headlines or hot takes, try the tools yourself. Use the newest models. Follow people who teach AI well, not just those who profit from scaring you. You don’t have to become an AI expert. But you do owe it to yourself to move past speculation and into direct experience.

3. Engage: Find one small way to try AI: write a draft, summarize a meeting, brainstorm a list, make a fake itinerary. Don’t aim for perfect — aim for play. What did you notice? What surprised you? What annoyed you? This is the data you actually need.

4. Adapt: What role could this play in your life or work? What boundaries do you want to set? Where do you want to be intentional about not using AI? This is where you define your own ethics — instead of adopting someone else’s.

5. Contribute: Talk about what you’re learning. Teach your team. Help your friend. Suggest the better prompt. If you’re part of a field or community, your curiosity can ripple outward in powerful ways. None of us get to sit this one out. But we do get to help shape the culture around it.

🧠 My Own Struggles (and Discoveries)

Let me be honest: I still struggle with this daily.

I think about what I should be writing entirely on my own.

I wonder if I’m getting too dependent on AI tools.

I sometimes question what the “right” amount of human-vs-machine is in any given piece.

But here’s what I know for sure: I get so frustrated at those who dismiss it all together — especially from a place of pride, or performative purity.

The only way I can truly understand this technology is to use it.

To learn what it does well. To see what it misses.

To shape how I use it — not be shaped by it.

And when I do that, I feel more confident. More empowered. And, honestly, more creative.

AI hasn’t made me less of a writer. It’s helped me find a rhythm that works better for my life.

🛠 Want to Try It? Here Are a Few Journal Prompts:

If you’re curious but unsure where to start, try reflecting on one of these questions (don’t put these into AI unless you want help brainstorming):

• What’s one task I dread doing that AI might make easier?

• How could AI give me more time for the parts of my work I actually love?

• What values do I want to guide my AI use — clarity, honesty, creativity, care?

• Where am I more afraid of being judged than being wrong?

Start there. You don’t have to tell anyone. You don’t have to publish the result.

Just let yourself try.

💬 Final Thought

You don’t need to love AI. You don’t need to use it every day.

But you do deserve to understand it on your own terms.

And if we want to shape the future in a way that reflects our values — we have to be part of building it.

So panic a little. That’s fine.

But then take a breath.

And get to work.

🔒 Keep reading for my Panic Responsibly AI Starter Kit — including reflection prompts, tested tools, and a creative challenge to try this week.