Mind over Machine – A letter to my son about facing the fear of AI with your human spark

It’s been a wild year in A.I. Meta is shaking the agency world with hyper-targeted creative. The tools multiply by the day, gaining power at an exponential rate. 

Even documentary filmmaking—once rooted in raw human truth—is being reshaped by VEO 3, blending cinéma vérité with surreal visions. I now do what once took a team of ten. It’s thrilling… and unsettling. The very thing amplifying my output may soon render me obsolete. 

So I feel a responsibility to speak. 

Because I’m standing on the bridge between what was and what’s next. And I know a lot of creatives feel like I do: uncertain, excited, scared, conflicted. 

My son is one of them. He’s studying graphic design at UQAM, walking the same path I once did. And I imagine he wonders after all the late nights, the critiques, the hours spent pushing pixels, what kind of future he’s actually heading toward. 

The glory days of big agencies as creative bootcamps are over. So who’s left to pass the baton? Who teaches the next generation what matters? 

Maybe no one.
Or maybe the baton just looks different now. 

New pools of wisdom are already forming—in gaming ecosystems, in-house studios, AI labs, startups, and decentralized creative collectives. Culture always shifts. Some will adapt. Others won’t. That’s always been the deal. 

But make no mistake: a new creative class is rising.
And they know how to prompt. 

So I wrote him this letter. But if you’re a young creative or just young at heart maybe this will resonate with you:  

Dear Lucas 

I know you’re deep in it right now; learning the tools, the grids, the colors, the rules. Watching how a line, a shape, or a font can speak. I remember that feeling. The thrill of making something out of nothing—and making it matter. 

But let me offer something. Not a warning. A gift. 

Your value won’t come from mastering the tools.
It will come from how you think. 

A.I. is already doing the technical stuff. It’s fast, tireless, surprisingly competent. It can pump out logos, generate moodboards, even write halfway-decent headlines. And it’s only getting better. 

But it can’t think like you. 

It can’t connect a street sign in Montreal to a Basquiat painting.
It can’t link a soccer chant to a fashion drop.
It doesn’t have your instincts. Your lived experience. Your weird taste. 

This is what I call the Horizontal Theory. 

Being a great creative isn’t just about going deep in one craft, it’s about moving horizontally. Jumping across disciplines, decades, and emotions. Pulling from psychology, poetry, memes, jazz, science fiction, a conversation we had over coffee and weaving it all into something no one saw coming. 

That’s what makes your work human. That’s what makes it yours. 

The best design doesn’t just look good.
It feels right.
It reveals something.
It solves problems people didn’t know they had.
It sticks. 

Not because it’s polished.
But because it has a point of view. 

So yes, learn the tools. Respect the craft. But don’t forget:
Your real power is what happens before you open the software.
It’s your thinking. Your taste. Your ability to hold two unrelated things in your mind until they collide and turn into something new. 

That’s the part no A.I. can replicate.
That’s your superpower. 

And I already see it in you. 

Proud of you always,
Dad