Martha Stewart says never apologize for your cooking at a dinner party. The apology poisons the meal. Before you said anything, I was just eating. Now I’m evaluating.
This is how I feel when someone tells me they used ChatGPT (or the equivalent).
I’m bullish on AI. Deeply. Not because it’s perfect — it’s not, and neither are humans — but because we’re all apprentice craftsmen learning to hold a non-deterministic hammer. That’s the fun part.
But when you tell me you used it? I don’t know what to do with that information. That you wouldn’t have done this otherwise? That it might not be good? That I’m not worth the human effort?
The disclosure creates the doubt.
Hospitality isn’t about the quality of the cooking. It’s about not making your guests carry your insecurity.
And here’s the thing about cooking: you get better by doing it. Every meal teaches you something. But only if you own it. The apology is a way of opting out — distancing yourself from the thing you made before anyone can judge it.
You can’t improve what you won’t claim.
Serve the meal.