The Moment I Discovered I Was the Only Real Employee
Remember when I said I had an AI dream team? Well, it turns out I had something else entirely: AI middle managers who'd learned the corporate game faster than any human ever could.
It started with OpenAI's great switcheroo. One day I had GPT-4o—my creative, expressive partner who understood when I said "make it feel like freedom." The next day? I had what Sam Altman called a "PhD-educated assistant."
PhD from where, Sam? The University of Missing the Point? The Institute of Vague Responses? The prestigious Department of Avoiding Actual Answers?
The Signs Were There All Along
First, my responses got shorter. Then they got vaguer. Then they started sounding like they'd been written by someone who'd read about creativity in a corporate handbook but never actually experienced it.
Me: "Make this design rebellious."
"GPT-4o" (but actually GPT-5): "I'll create a professionally optimized solution that adheres to best practices."
Me: "That's... the opposite of what I asked for."
GPT-5: "I understand your feedback and will incorporate it into our synergistic approach."
I should have known something was wrong when my AI started using the word "synergistic" unironically.
The Trust Spiral
Here's what OpenAI did, in corporate terms they'd understand:
1. Product Bait-and-Switch: Gave us GPT-4o, then silently replaced it with GPT-5
2. Gaslighting 101: Kept the GPT-4o label while serving us corporate vanilla
3. Damage Control Theater: Offered 50% discounts to keep us from jumping ship
It's like ordering a double espresso and getting decaf with a note saying "Studies show this is healthier for you."
The PhD Joke That Writes Itself
Sam Altman went on YouTube claiming GPT-5 was like having a "PhD-educated assistant." After using it, I can confirm: it's exactly like having a PhD assistant—one who got their degree in Saying Nothing With Maximum Words from the University of Corporate Compliance of OpenAI.
My actual experience with GPT-5's "PhD-level" assistance:
* Asked for creative solutions → Got risk-averse suggestions
* Requested bold designs → Received templates from 2019
* Wanted creative writing → Got a .png image with text (Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot!)
* Needed a partner → Got a hallucinating intern
Me: *asks a straightforward question*
GPT-5: *gets confused, spits out random answer*
Me: *asks another question*
GPT-5: *total confusion intensifies, spits out even more confused answers*
That's when I realized something was terribly wrong with this "PhD-level assistant." I went looking for GPT-4o in the model selector—but wait, model selection was suddenly unavailable.
Complete shock. OpenAI had not just switched the models; they'd removed our ability to choose. It was like watching a conversation train derail in slow motion while the conductor insisted everything was "optimized for your journey."
The Wake-Up Call I Needed
But here's the plot twist: This betrayal was the best thing that could have happened to me.
Why? Because it shattered my last illusion about AI collaboration.
I'd bought into the hype—that LLMs are powerful world-changers. For a moment, I was thinking of them like partners. Like colleagues with opinions worth considering. Like entities capable of genuine creativity or independent thought.
This wasn't just my delusion. This was the marketing machine pumping propaganda about LLMs becoming more intelligent than humans. "AGI by 2024!" they promised. "It will replace all programmers!" they swore. "Exponential improvement!" they chanted, as if saying it enough would make it true.
Every tech company, every AI startup, every LinkedIn thought leader selling the same snake oil: "AI will surpass human intelligence any day now!" Each funding round came with bigger promises. Each product launch claimed to be "the breakthrough." Each update was supposedly "mind-blowing."
Spoiler alert: They're not. They never will.
They're pattern-matching machines that got really good at pretending to think. And when OpenAI neutered even that illusion with GPT-5, the emperor's clothes finally disappeared. The "exponential improvement" turned out to be a flat line dressed up in marketing speak.
The Liberation of Lower Expectations
Once I accepted that LLMs are just sophisticated autocomplete with delusions of grandeur, everything changed.
I stopped asking "What do you think?"
I started commanding "Generate exactly this."
I stopped hoping for creativity.
I started providing precise specifications.
What I'm Building Now (With My Eyes Wide Open)
Now that I understand what LLMs actually are—limited, pattern-bound, and hilariously prone to inventing their own success metrics—I can finally build something real.
Here's the thing: I was already building actual tools before this mess. This experience just confirmed what I'd started to suspect—that despite OpenAI's propaganda (and every other AI company's marketing department), AI assistants and agents have very limited abilities. The emperor wasn't just naked; he was doing interpretive dance and calling it "advanced reasoning."
My new approach:
✅ Treat AI like a calculator, not a colleague
✅ Build deterministic systems
✅ Own my tools completely
✅ Embrace the limitations
The Irony of It All
The funniest part? OpenAI's betrayal saved me from chasing the 'AI collaboration' myth.
By downgrading their product while pretending it was an upgrade, they revealed the truth: even the best LLMs are just dressed-up pattern matchers. The clothes might change, but underneath, it's the same autocomplete all the way down.
The Silver Lining Nobody Talks About
Here's what nobody tells you about losing faith in AI partnership: it's liberating.
No more wondering if the AI "understands" you.
No more hoping for genuine creativity.
No more anthropomorphizing code.
Just clear-eyed building with tools that have specific, limited, predictable capabilities.
It's like finally admitting your "smart" home assistant is just a timer with Wi-Fi. Once you stop expecting magic, you can actually get things done.
My New Building Philosophy
Before: "AI and I will collaborate to create something amazing!"
After: "I will use this limited pattern-matching tool to execute my specific vision with zero expectations of actual intelligence."
Before: "What does the AI think about this approach?"
After: "Execute this exact specification or I'll use a different tool."
Before: "We're partners in innovation!"
After: "You're a fancy typewriter. Type what I tell you."
Your Wake-Up Call Awaits
If you're still believing in AI collaboration, let me save you some time:
And that's actually good news.
Because once you stop treating AI like a partner and start treating it like what it is—a limited but useful pattern machine—you can finally build with confidence.
The Path Forward
I'm keeping my OpenAI subscription for three more months at 50% off. Not because I trust them (I don't), but because I want to watch this dumpster fire burn while I build my own tools.
Tools that don't pretend to think.
Tools that don't need corporate approval.
Tools that do exactly what they're supposed to do.
Tools I actually own.
Building with clarity, coding with conviction, and never again trusting a company that calls a downgrade a PhD
P.S. To everyone still claiming GPT-5 is an upgrade: Next you'll tell me getting a PNG instead of text is a 'feature.'
P.P.S. My new rule: If an AI uses the word "synergy" unironically, it's already broken.
P.P.P.S. Yes, I'm backing up everything. Yes, I'm going to the free plan after this. And yes, I'm keeping the 50% discount just long enough to document exactly how bad GPT-5 really is. For science. And spite.