I’ve been grappling with a lot lately, and it’s hard to ignore the ethical dilemmas emerging in the tech world. The rapid shifts in technology and their implications are troubling. I’ve been self-employed for so long that the idea of working for someone else feels like a cage. I need a particular kind of job, one that doesn’t stifle my mental health. I’m like a wild bird; put me in a cage, and I won’t do well.
Consulting seems like a viable path, but positioning oneself as a consultant is complex. I have multiple audiences to cater to, and managing multiple websites isn’t feasible. I need to create a clear experience for my audience without spreading myself too thin. This often leaves me spinning my wheels, trying to figure out where my value lies.
My mood has been low lately, partly because of the constant battle with my university over their uncritical adoption of AI tools. They want me to install invasive software for exams that track eye movements and keystrokes. This feels like an infringement on privacy, especially when they’ve previously accused me of using AI without evidence.
I’m also dealing with the broader implications of AI. The technology is making everything mediocre and dumb. AI takes the magnificent and reduces it to the mundane. This is not art; art makes the uninteresting interesting. I’m trying to reconcile my creative side with the ethical concerns I have about AI and technology.
The thought of pursuing stand-up comedy has crossed my mind. Comedy is a skill that translates well into other areas, like public speaking and writing. However, the comedy scene here in Perth is limited and cliquey. There are only a few clubs, and getting stage time is difficult. I’ve considered booking a community hall and creating my own space, but resources are tight.
I’m constantly thinking about how to make money, which leaves little room for creative pursuits like comedy. It feels like an indulgence I can’t afford right now. Most creatives end up in marketing because it’s the only way to do what they love and still make money. But for me, getting a job feels like failing at business.
Despite these challenges, I remain committed to speaking up against unethical practices in tech. Every time I voice my concerns, people reach out to thank me, saying I speak for them. This keeps me going, even though it doesn’t make me money or bring fame. I believe that speaking the truth and operating with integrity can make a difference.
I’ve been vocal about the ethical issues in tech for over a decade. I’ve seen the decay happening, and it’s frustrating to watch. But I keep speaking up because I know I’m not alone. People appreciate my work and tell me I make them see things differently. That’s enough to keep me going.
I’ve had to withdraw from a university unit because of their invasive surveillance tools. It’s everything I’m against, and I couldn’t reconcile it. These tools are not good enough and are being implemented uncritically. Most people don’t think about the implications; they just see a solution to a problem. It’s my job to point out the ethical issues and make them think.
I’ve also been dealing with the frustration of being mansplained to. Men often assume I don’t understand tech or economics, treating me like a child. It’s infuriating, especially when I know more than they do. I’ve lived in the real world, raised children, and read extensively. I don’t need to be patronized.
In the end, I believe in the power of speaking up. Even if it’s exhausting and doesn’t bring immediate rewards, it’s essential. I’ll keep talking, refusing to comply with unethical practices, and using my voice for as long as I can.