I ditched ChatGPT, Claude, and Gemini for a week. I didn’t miss ‘em

Standing in my new living room, surrounded by moving boxes and facing a busted dishwasher, I realized there were three things I badly needed: a pair of scissors, a place to unpack all our stuff, and a plumber. ChatGPT didn’t come close to making the list. 

My family and I just spent the bulk of spring break moving into our new, much smaller home in Manhattan, and the experience served as a stark reminder of AI’s limitations when it comes to certain in-your-face problems.

Sure, we’d previously enlisted Claude’s help when poring over purchasing contracts, and Gemini had rendered images of our daughter’s new room painted blue, but none of it mattered once it came time to pack all of our worldly possessions. Oh, and ChatGPT’s bulleted, emoji-packed list of where our furniture would fit? Quickly forgotten, as we focused on what actually worked in our smaller living space.

Of course, part of the reason we ditched AI during our big moving experience was that we simply didn’t have access to it. I spent the day before our move disconnecting all our computers, including the Raspberry Pi network that hosts my personal AI assistant. As my systems went dark one after another, I found myself on a forced AI fast.

And even if my computers weren’t wrapped in packing paper, I found myself too busy trading calls with our moving company and coordinating with our new building management to think about prompting ChatGPT or Claude on their mobile apps.

Realizing that I was on a journey where AI wouldn’t be much help, I leaned into it. 

During our first day in our new pad, I took my daughter to Bloomingdale’s to shop for new sheets and comforters. Did we submit snapshots of duvet covers and pillow cases to ChatGPT for comparison shopping help? Nope. Instead, we consulted Sylvia, a flesh-and-blood expert who walked us through the options before steering us toward our eventual choice (Matouk, for those who know their bedding brands).

For interior design, I skipped asking Nano Banana to “arrange our furniture perfectly in this living room.” Instead, we booked an appointment with Elena, another real-live person who showed up at our door and spent a few hours measuring and explaining what could go where. Unlike Nano Banana, which regularly bent the laws of physics to render anything I suggested, Elena knew how to say “no,” gently but firmly advising me that our old dining room chairs had to go. (She was right.)

And when I found soapy water leaking out of the dishwasher in our new kitchen, I didn’t submit make and model numbers to Claude and ask for a diagnosis. Instead, our super referred us to Igor, a cheerful young plumber who showed up early, quickly spotted what was wrong, and fixed it right there. He also tightened the loose faucet in the kitchen sink and fixed a glitchy burner on our stove for free. (If you’re in New York and need a good plumber, I’ve got Igor’s number.)

It was a long and exhausting week, but also satisfying and refreshing. It felt good solving problems with people. They were experienced, they knew their jobs, they wanted to be helpful, but also weren’t afraid to push back. And while they couldn’t be summoned at a moment’s notice or perform 350 Google searches in 15 minutes, they helped us realize our goals in tangible ways that held up under scrutiny.

In case you’re wondering, no: I’m not suggesting we turn our backs on AI. Even if we could give AI a permanent cold shoulder (good luck, given the way it’s permeating every aspect of our lives), it does have its uses–I mean, I am using it daily again for triaging my email and organizing my jumbled thoughts, and when I need help debugging Plex or another of my self-hosted services, my first call is either to ChatGPT, Claude, or Gemini.

But for other tasks, whether manual or otherwise, I’m still sticking with the humans.