Last fall I signed up for an AI training, as it seemed well-past time to understand the technology people say will replace me and every other worker on earth — except plumbers.
I spent six weeks learning how to write good prompts and training ChatGPT to act as my thought partner. It works incredibly well. So well in fact, I wondered if people really need coaches anymore. Can't they just save the money and ask Chat for help?
I don't really believe that, so I asked Chat.
Here's what it said:
"Coaching has never primarily been about access to information. If it were, books would have replaced coaches decades ago."
"I can help someone think. You can believe in someone before they believe in themselves."
Belonging.
I've long believed people don't need more information, they need more connection, and Chat can't do that. It can approximate it, but the second you close the tab, it dies.
What humans really want is a witness.
A sigh. A steady gaze. Someone who can hear what we're not saying, then ask about it. Sure, strategy and planning matter too, but they come second.
Case in point: I had a client many years ago, who, after months working together, said she had something to tell me. (I love sessions like that.)
"I'm addicted to prescription painkillers and have been for years. Nobody knows," she said.
It's hard to overstate the power of that admission.
When someone discloses something that hard, you want to hold your breath, but I don't because I've trained for that moment. It's holy and important, like watching someone finally surrender at an AA meeting.
Chat may be available at midnight, but it can't do that.
With.
Could my client ask Chat for a plan to get sober? Sure, and it would probably give her excellent advice. But AA works like it does because addicts are invited to stand naked and helpless in a circle of people who know the feeling precisely, and have survived past it.
It's the human condition in the room that matters most.
So when someone has the courage to show me the secrets they're sure will wreck them, and I stay steady with them, that's when mountains start moving.
This is true of me and other helping humans who have learned to be calm compassionate witnesses, and have a giant toolbox nearby.
I saw that client recently.
We stood in the back yard of her new home, admiring the garden and all she's built in the last few years as a sober person.
"I can't even explain how happy I am," she said tearing up.
Listen, I'm not taking credit for her transformation, she did the work. I am saying I was in the room for the dark part, and it thrills me to see her on the other side.
Maybe I'm being self-serving by writing this, but I feel like professionals in many industries need to be reminded that our humanness is an asset — maybe even a priceless one. Some companies who went heavy on AI workforce are finding this out the hard way.
Humans still want to talk and work with other humans, especially wise, well-trained ones.
I am opening my calendar to few new individual clients. If you're stuck and unhappy at Point A, whatever it is, and want to move toward a better Point B, book a clarity call here.
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