In my last post, I talked about how focusing on a problem that couldn’t be previously solved without AI is the key to building a successful AI product. Tapping into an unfulfilled user need, so to speak. Essentially, it’s a call to create “AI-native applications” instead of “AI-enhanced features”. But what exactly does “AI native” mean?
For a long time, the age-old question has lingered in the world of social networks: can social platforms sustainably finance themselves through subscriptions and abolish ads for good? The answer isn’t as straightforward as one might think, as it largely depends on the objectives set by the platform.
In late October 2020, I gained access to GPT-3 after emailing Greg Brockman and pitching him the need for broader access distribution. My mind was blown away by its potential in the first hour of tinkering in the GPT-3 playground.
Several months in, it became evident that OpenAI would become the most valuable company of the decade. Some said that it wouldn’t happen because of their non-profit status, while others considered my remarks ridiculous, citing things like “LLMs don’t scale,” “more data and compute isn’t enough,” etc.
Fast forward to 2023, and OpenAI now expects to rake in a staggering $1 billion in revenue by 2024 while inadvertently becoming a consumer tech company with the launch of ChatGPT as a destination app.
So where do we go from here?
Over the last year, I’ve been trying to better understand how people discover new ideas. In this selection, I’d like to share books that helped me grasp the emergence of key ideas in history, the nature of creative thinking, and how to find luck in your endeavors.
We relentlessly set goals — weekly, monthly, yearly.
We think if there’s a goal, we’re continually moving towards it. The goal resembles a destination, and it seems as if our desire is strong enough, we’ll be able to get there.
But it’s not the case.