Malcolm Gladwell once taught us that outliers—those rare individuals or moments—often hold the key to understanding the world. In the realm of artificial intelligence (AI), we’re at a curious outlier moment ourselves. AI can mimic human speech, recognize faces, and automate tasks once reserved for the elite. Yet, it stumbles where humans soar: in creativity, intuition, and ethical judgment. Drawing from my journey as co-founder of hubub, an AI-driven concierge service, and insights from Robert J. Marks II’s Non-Computable You, I’ve come to see AI not as a replacement for humanity but as a mirror—one that reflects both our potential and our uniqueness. Let me take you on a story that weaves together history, science, and a few paradoxes to explore where AI shines and where it falters.
Picture a scene from 1900. Indoor plumbing, once a luxury for the wealthy, was becoming a household staple. Servants carried water buckets for the rich; soon, pipes did the job for everyone. Fast forward to today, and AI is pulling a similar trick. Services like private chauffeurs, chefs, maids, personal shoppers, and tutors—symbols of privilege—are being democratized. At hubub, we use AI to automate business client entertainment, turning what was once a high-end perk for those that could afford a personal assistant into a scalable business tool. This isn’t just about convenience; it’s about freeing up time. AI can handle scheduling, research, or even coding, letting us focus on what matters: family, growth, or big-picture strategy.
But here’s the first twist, the kind Gladwell loves to unpack: AI’s power comes from mimicking, not understanding. It’s split into two camps—speech and vision. Chatbots and virtual assistants, like those powering Siri, churn through language patterns to sound human. Facial recognition and object detection let machines “see” the world, from spotting a face in a crowd to guiding a delivery drone. These tools rely on data, crunching numbers to find patterns. They’re impressive, but they’re not thinking. They’re like a brilliant parrot, repeating what they’ve been trained to say. If the data’s bad, the output’s worse. This is why, as I tell my team at hubub, we must feed our AI clean, reliable inputs to get results we trust.
Now, let’s zoom out to the bigger picture—AI’s promise to transform work and life. Imagine a world where repetitive tasks vanish. AI could automate financial analysis, draft reports, or run assembly lines, as it’s already doing in factories and delivery services. It’s even creeping into military applications, guiding drones with eerie precision. For individuals, this means more time for education, hobbies, or personal growth. I see it in our clients at hubub: AI takes care of logistics, so they can build relationships instead of juggling schedules and scanning receipts. It’s tempting to call this a utopia, but Gladwell would warn us to look closer. Every revolution has a shadow.
Here’s where the story gets messy—AI’s limits. It’s not just that AI can’t match human reasoning; it’s that some things we do are fundamentally beyond computation. Marks, in NonComputable You, dives into this with ideas like Gödel’s incompleteness theorems and the Turing
Halting Problem. These are math’s way of saying some truths can’t be proven by algorithms. AI leans on inductive reasoning—spotting patterns from data—but struggles with abductive reasoning, the art of guessing the best explanation from incomplete clues. Think of Copernicus, who looked at the stars and upended the idea that Earth was the universe’s center. No dataset could’ve led to that leap; it took a human spark.
Marks goes further, arguing AI lacks true understanding, creativity, and ethical judgment. Consider the trolley problem: would you sacrifice one life to save five? AI can calculate probabilities but can’t wrestle with the moral weight. Or take creativity—human breakthroughs, like Picasso’s paintings or Einstein’s theories, often defy step-by-step logic. AI can remix ideas, but it doesn’t dream. At hubub, we use AI to suggest entertainment options, but our human team curates the final choices, adding a touch machines can’t replicate.
Then there’s the strangest twist of all: the human mind itself. Evidence suggest that the brain is not the mind, but a subset of the mind. Science has thrown us curveballs that Gladwell would savor. Patients with chunks of their brains removed—say, for epilepsy—still hold onto memories. People near death, their brains ravaged, sometimes speak with sudden clarity, a phenomenon called terminal lucidity. When surgeons split the brain’s two halves, patients don’t act like two people; their consciousness stays whole. Stimulate the brain all you want—you won’t spark a new symphony or theorem. And near-death experiences, studied by researchers, suggest our awareness might outlast our neurons. Are we just organic computers? Marks says no, and these quirks hint our minds might be more than our brains, making sentient silicon beings unlikely.
This isn’t just academic. It’s a wake-up call. If our creativity and intuition are non-computable, AI becomes a tool, not a rival. It’s why I tell startups at Founders Institute to pair AI’s efficiency with human insight. At hubub, we let AI handle data-heavy tasks but keep people in charge of decisions that need heart or gut. The danger is thinking AI can do it all. Companies that over-rely on algorithms risk missing the big picture—or worse, making choices that look smart on paper but feel wrong in practice.
So, what’s the opportunity? It’s balance. AI can amplify us, like a telescope extends our sight, but only if we steer it wisely. At its best, it’s a partner that frees us to be more human—more creative, more connected. At its worst, it’s a crutch that dulls our edge. The responsibility lies with us to know the difference. I see this in my work mentoring founders: the ones who thrive don’t chase AI for its own sake; they use it to solve real problems while staying grounded in what makes us unique.
Let me leave you with a Gladwell-esque thought: progress isn’t about machines outpacing us; it’s about us choosing what to amplify. AI can take us far, but only humans can decide where far should be. As Non-Computable You reminds us, our creativity and understanding are ours alone. Let’s build a future where AI serves that spark, not smothers it. Innovate boldly, but with humility—because the edge of AI is where the human story begins.
By Andy Cwik is Co-Founder and CEO of hubub, a board member, mentor at the Founders Institute, and Chicago Chair of Founders Network.
