The Worship of Convenience

Did you miss me? For five months, I rattled off a weekly newsletter—observations, irritations, the odd stray thought. Then, quite without warning, I vanished for a hundred days. A silence, but hardly restful. Because the truth is, I missed the outlet. As I once confessed in those earlier newsletters, writing was a cathartic experience: a way scratch the itch of whatever had been bothering me. And so here I am again—back at it, and rather glad to be.

When I first launched “Odds & Sods,” the premise was simple: Everything that came to my mind, a chaotic mix of topics all packed into one newsletter. You may have noticed, though, that I soon drifted. The rambles took shape and circled back, inevitably, to the intersection where technology meets social challenges and ethical dilemmas..

That’s where this newsletter will stay from now on. But here’s the thing: I don’t write just for the sake of it. If there’s nothing of substance rattling around in my head, there won’t be a newsletter forced out of habit. Hence my hiatus. Over these past hundred days, I spent more time listening, reading, thinking. And frankly, much of what deserves to be said is already being said—sometimes with more eloquence than I could muster.

So today, I’m not just announcing my return with “Odds & Sods.” I’m also here to point you toward a handful of other voices and newsletters worth your time. More on that towards the end of today’s edition.

Resist The Tyranny of Convenience

Living without plastic today is not so much a lifestyle choice as a form of martyrdom. It drains your wallet, wastes time, and tests your patience. Plastic has crept into every crevice of modern existence. But with “AI,” we stand at a different threshold. The intrusion is underway, the sales pitch is deafening, yet the stranglehold is incomplete.

Emily M. Bender, whose book The AI Con skewers much of this techno‑evangelism, has got it right: inevitability is the story being sold, not the reality. Every refusal to reach for the chatbot is an act of resistance. And here’s the difference worth underscoring: with plastic, the fight came too late. With AI, the door is not yet shut, the lock not yet turned. To say “No” now is to make freedom more than just a word we recite after the fact.

Because if we don’t, this will happen more and more:

A Case Study in Corporate Schizophrenia

Let’s speak plainly about Timotheus Höttges, the head of Deutsche Telekom, and his company’s contradictory relationship with data security. In 2018, Telekom unveiled its smart speaker as the shining European answer to Silicon Valley’s addiction to collecting data. We were promised the gold standard of privacy, with our data stored in Europe and guarded with more zeal than the Crown Jewels. Their marketing proclaimed “highest data security,” “processing exclusively inside the EU,” “no commercial use of your recordings,” “a European alternative,” and even that holiest grail of tech jargon, “transparency and control.” Users could review their own voice recordings and delete them at will, and there was even a physical mute button for the paranoid. Telekom assured us that, unlike Americans, the police couldn’t simply access our private conversations.

Yet, while the ads basked in the warm glow of EU regulation, Herr Höttges himself publicly complained that these very same rules are stifling innovation. You can read his drivel below. It’s a curious situation, isn’t it? The company touts Europe’s strict laws as a marketing advantage—“Trust us, unlike the Americans and Chinese, we’re forced to behave ethically”—only to criticize those same laws when they impact the quarterly report.

This isn’t commitment; it’s opportunism dressed up nicely. Privacy becomes a slogan when it sells, but a burden when it doesn’t. The trust they ask of you is as unstable as a Deutsche Telekom share price in a recession, making it a shaky foundation for safeguarding your privacy.

How To Rehumanise Journalism

Have you read one of those infamous pieces by Margaux Blanchard? If not, it’s too late now. They have been deleted from the internet. That’s because Blanchard is a fictitious character fabricated by AI that was briefly accepted as real by Wired and Business Insider. Now we know for sure: entire newsrooms can fall prey to sophisticated errors or outright deception when algorithms are left unchecked. And thus, so can and will their readers.

To restore lost confidence, journalism must return to its roots: real people communicating with real communities. This process is rarely straightforward or efficient, but it is essential. Authentic journalism requires qualities like curiosity, scepticism, and the ability to listen—traits that no algorithm can truly replicate.

A promising example of this approach can be found in Gelsenkirchen, where the independent investigative newsroom Correctiv has established a unique space: a combination newsroom and café that is open to the street. In this public venue, journalists engage face-to-face with local residents to discuss issues, gather stories, and collaboratively fact-check rumours. This open-door policy invites the community directly into the news-making process, transforming journalism from a distant and abstract service into a participatory and community-oriented act. If this approach interests you, read Alexander von Streit’s account; who has visited the café in Gelsenkirchen. I also highly recommend subscribing to his newsletter “Media Rewilding”.

Correctiv’s initiative is a strong counter to the mass-produced, impersonal content created by AI systems. By fostering dialogue and involving citizens in the fact-finding mission, Correctiv demonstrates that trust is built gradually through repeated in-person interactions and honest conversations—maybe shared over coffee. This hands-on approach sharply contrasts with AI’s hidden data-mining and content generation, emphasizing that credibility is established not through clicks or algorithms, but through meaningful human relationships developed in an open environment.

Dispelling the Digital Delusion of Intelligence

Above is something very simple yet true I read on Bluesky this week. Let me explain: What we crave, of course, when we hear “Artificial Intelligence,” is not clever autocomplete—we want magic, modern oracles, artificial minds that rival our own. The term AI carries a breathless promise of genuine thinking: machines that grasp nuance, forge new ideas, and possess the flame that distinguishes between a wit and a bore. In short, we expect our digital “intellects” to think, feel, and judge as we do. Or perhaps, better.

What we colloquially call AI are actually Large Language Models (LLMs) and what they deliver is mere pattern matching: statistical echoes of whatever humanity has already scribbled into the great textual abyss. When ChatGPT answers your question, it is not pondering or inferring—it is looking up the nearest match and serving you a reheated portion of collective memory. Unlike human thought, which is shaped by experience, emotion, and the ability to forget what matters least, LLM output is devoid of context, bias, or the sweet sorrows of living. The “intelligence” we so hastily assign to LLMs is therefore a misnomer. These models do not think; they predict. If true intelligence means the ability to reflect, to grow, and to shape conclusions based on genuine understanding, then our machines are still scrambling. Expecting an LLM to fulfill the mythic promise of “AI”—to reason as a human, or stumble upon epiphany—is like expecting your mirror to write a novel. You may see yourself reflected, even convincingly, but the substance behind the glass is forever missing.

Newsletters I subscribe to:

→ Boy, was I thrilled when I saw this: Aya Jaff—authoress, coder, and one of the sharper voices in Germany’s tech world—has started her own newsletter with Surplus Magazin. She looks at technology from a leftist angle and brings both clarity and bite to that task, cutting through hype without drowning you in jargon. If you’re tired of tech commentary that sounds like a press release, this is the antidote. You should subscribe here.

→ Equally important is “Mystery AI Hype Theater 3000” by the above-mentioned linguist Prof. Emily M. Bender and sociologist Dr. Alex Hanna. They break down the AI hype, separating fact from fiction and science from exaggeration.

→ Subscribe to Grace Blakeley's newsletter if you appreciate bold political writing that challenges the status quo. Her style is sharp and direct, avoiding the typical economic clichés. She critically examines capitalism's shortcomings without wasting your time on empty discussions.

As you might have noticed, today’s newsletter was long. Don’t expect me to keep this up if I end up in your inbox on a weekly basis again…

Thank you for reading.