Category Archives: Society

#71 How people actually use AI (not just talk about it)

I read a lot about AI — but not about how people actually use it

I read a lot of stuff about AI all over the place, but what I rarely read about is how people are actually using it, in practical terms. Everybody talks about their projects, but almost nobody describes the processes and the day-to-day tricks that help them finalize those projects with accuracy and success.

Maybe I’m not the most reliable person to make such a statement. There are probably communities that discuss this extensively. But I’m the average guy when it comes to this topic: learning by doing and checking three or four sources regularly (YouTube being one of them).

That said, the work environments I’ve been part of recently have been my best source of knowledge when it comes to using AI tools. One thing I’ve noticed is that most people I interact with are learning to use these tools in very different ways. It’s a deeply personal approach — one that reflects how we deal with many other aspects of life.

There’s the methodical AI user, the scared one, the spontaneous one, the skeptical one, the addicted one. Then there are the philosophies:
the doomsday thinker who believes robots will take over the world within six months;
the optimist who thinks cancer will be eradicated soon;
the world conqueror who wants to develop chips to enhance intelligence and learn kung-fu like Neo in The Matrix.

And so on, and so forth.

What I want to share here are four super-intuitive tips — plus two extra ones — that are genuinely helping me every day to crack and solve problems that felt extremely complex and time-consuming before AI entered the picture.

This is not a guide about AI projects or future promises, but about practical AI use in daily work, learning by doing, and building workflows that actually save time.

And the best part? You can apply them immediately and start improving your current (and future) opportunities right now.


Tip n. 1 — Treat AI like a smart collaborator, not a magic box

I’ve seen friends and colleagues share results obtained from a single prompt — no exchange further exchange with the AI tool, just one prompt. Sure, maybe Sam Altman is capable of writing a prompt so perfect that no follow-up is required.

But most of us absolutely need to dig into the results of our prompts — until all the dark corners, potential misleading information, and questionable sources are double, triple, quadruple-checked.

I’ve noticed that when I carefully read what AI returns — like actively listening to a colleague, a good friend or a partner — the follow-up questions improve exponentially, and the quality of the next outputs is on a completely different level.

Tip n. 2 — Improve your prompts before execution

If I’m not mistaken, tools like Copilot already offer an agent that does this by default. But you can easily create your own prompt that says:

“Please, correct and improve this prompt: [prompt here]”

And before you say anything about the word please: I say “good morning” to my AI tools every day. You never freaking know! But I’ve watched too many sci-fi movies…

Tip n. 3 — Use screenshots to learn tools faster with AI

Let’s say you have a blog like mine and you want to use Google Analytics (GA) to improve your keywords, understand your audience, and so on.
(Things that — as I’ve said many times across my posts — I don’t do for my personal blog. This is a hobby, not a validation machine, and I refuse to enter the paranoia-wheel of likes, comments, subscribers, and views.)

But let’s pretend you do want to do that — and you’ve never used GA before.

If you go through the official GA guidelines, there’s so much content out there that before you even start using the tool, your head is already spinning.

So what do you do?

You create an account (easy enough), and then for any doubt you have — no matter how silly — you just take a screenshot and ask ChatGPT, Copilot, Perplexity, or whatever you use:

“I don’t understand what to do next. Please explain concisely, step by step, in simple terms.”

You’re welcome. You’ll can come back to thank me later.

Tip n. 4 — Use AI to summarize and explore the web efficiently

Give AI the websites you want to summarize or explore faster.

For example:

“Crawl website www.xyzittttyb.co.uk and give me the most relevant links related to xyz.”

It’s a dumb example, obviously — but you can crawl websites for much more exciting things than that.

Extra tip — Clean, refine, and share for feedback

I’ve heard people say they want to keep their prompts and results secret so others don’t copy their ideas 🤦🏽‍♂️… Some people operate on levels of confidence and delusion that are simply beyond my reach. They think they’re freaking Einstein or Tesla, I don’t know.

Guys, the era where isolated geniuses existed is over. Accept it.

Knowledge is now accessible to anyone with an internet connection, curiosity, and enough time to play with AI tools and develop skills. The more you share, the more you learn: people give feedback, you discover your flaws, and you improve.

Observe what others do. Be humble.
Follow the Socratic idea: “To know is to know that you know nothing.”Doors will keep opening new paths constantly.

Think you know everything, and your horizon will be as wide as the space between your ears.

Extra tip n. 2 — Summarize YouTube videos

Just copy-paste the transcript and ask AI to summarize it. Hours of few in a few minutes read.

That’s it. No magic. Just leverage what’s already there.

Bottom line

Practical AI use isn’t about better tools — it’s about better questions, better iteration, and treating AI as part of your daily workflow instead of a shortcut machine.
It doesn’t require genius-level prompts, secret tricks, or futuristic visions. It rewards curiosity, patience, iteration, and humility. Treat it like a conversation, let it help you think more clearly, and don’t be afraid to share what you learn. The real advantage isn’t knowing more — it’s learning faster, together.

#70 A proper winter, and an improper amount of complaining

After last Christmas, temperatures here in Berlin dropped and never really rose again. Daily snow, frozen lakes, and icy streets turned into routine. So did people going to the hospital with broken bones after slipping on ice. Public transportation became a nightmare—if not absolute s***.

People’s faces shifted from the usual grumpiness, the don’t-look-at-me attitude, to full-on I’m-going-to-kill-someone expressions. Many fled Germany because, for them, it was “too much to handle,” life-threatening even. They went somewhere sunny to stay alive.

I have to admit that, for a while, I was starting to get dragged into this collective incapacity to live through winter (and I am freaking Brazilian-Italian!). But then I thought: fuck this mentality. Let me appreciate the beauty of this time of year.

I usually enjoy life the most when I’m on my own—it’s just how I am, and I love that about myself. It’s one of my biggest strengths. That was the first breakthrough that helped me reconsider the season. I could finally enjoy my alone time even more, thanks to the slowness, the quietness, and the stillness winter brings.

The second breakthrough came when I stopped complaining to myself.

Social complaining in Germany is unavoidable—it’s almost a way of socializing—so in that sense I go along with conversations. When I’m on my own, though, I actively avoid it. It’s not a New Year’s resolution or anything like that; I just try to catch myself early when I fall into that pattern.

It took me a while to fully understand what scientists have been repeating for years, but when I complain alone, I reinforce a story in my head—and that’s not good (nicht gut!). I spiral into deeply depressing thoughts and start feeling like I’m drowning in them.

So I made a real effort to internally flip the narrative. Suddenly, what had been a dark, shitty day turned into a cozy one, with dimmed lights and the freedom to do whatever I wanted—or nothing at all. Especially my alone time turned into bliss. To be fair, it has always been blissful for me to spend time alone. I find the opposite incredibily difficult. But this winter, I’ve been slowing down even more.

There was a third breakthrough… there was one. But I forgot it.

To close, I’ll repeat one of the mantras that comes back often in my writing: self-compassion, self-compassion, self-compassion is the key. It doesn’t matter if you’re surrounded by amazing people—if you’re shitty toward yourself, you’re creating the conditions to rot in misery. And that’s not what we want.

We want self-compassion. Not denial. Not lying to oneself. Just appreciating our existence as it is. Easier said than done—it’s a life-long quest for all of us. But practice makes perfect.

#69 Not everything needs to become a project

When I work a job that truly resonates with me, my creative resources evaporate during the workday. Acknowledging this now causes me less frustration than it used to in the past.

The alternative would be having a boring job that doesn’t spark my interest, so that my brain is not fully hijacked during the day and I’m left with something to dedicate to my evening passions. However, I am not a fan of that at all; spending nine hours doing something I don’t care about is torture—at least for me. After a while, I usually start to resent everything related to an unchallenging, uninteresting job.

I never seriously considered turning a passion into a project worth diverting all my focus and resources onto. The reasons are a mix of risk aversion, which characterizes me, and contentment with the life and hobbies I already have. Why complicate things by taking on projects I don’t feel genuinely moved or interested in? There was a time when this brought a degree of uncertainty, and from time to time I still reflect on similar topics. I’ve written before about moving forward without a clear destination, about repeated attempts that don’t crystallize into a single narrative of progress.

Questioning usually arises when I stop listening to myself and start listening to external noise instead. Not having a personal project—whether entrepreneurial, family-related, or centered on traveling the world—is often treated as a failure of direction, when in reality it can simply mean refusing to force coherence where none exists yet. My free time is spent on various hobbies rather than a single, defining goal. The things I do bring me joy and contentment.

What I do find overwhelming is the expectation that any meaningful interest should eventually turn into something bigger—more structured, more visible, more competitive. Especially today, when knowledge is widely accessible and comparison is constant, the bar for individual achievement seems perpetually raised, even in spaces that were once meant to be personal and restorative.

The best thing, perhaps, is not to lose one’s mind over this or that personal project, fueled by delusions of grandeur, external pressure, or whatever else creates a sense of urgency around self-realization. Instead, it’s to do something that simply brings us a bit of extra pleasure during our free time. As it used to be in the past: you would go fishing to spend time with friends over a beer, or alone to meditate, or simply to disconnect in nature—not to go fishing with the purpose of posting it on some random social media page. You would do it because you liked it and wanted it.

Over time, I’ve learned that the problem isn’t a lack of ambition, but a lack of gentleness. Toward time. Toward energy. Toward ourselves. Accepting that not every phase of life needs a defining project has been less about giving up, and more about staying sane and true to oneself.

It’s true, though, that this mindset is, at this stage, sadly collectively installed in our brains. The expectations one nowadays has about life are insanely unachievable within a single lifetime, and yet we collectively fall for them.

Maybe the quiet rebellion today is not to optimize every passion or turn every interest into a performance, but to allow parts of life to remain unproductive, unambitious, and ours alone.

An image from the movie Braveheart (1995)

#32 Is freedom in crisis?

Freedom: the condition or right of being able or allowed to do, say, think, etc. whatever you want to, without being controlled or limited.

Freedom for basic rights

“Freeedoooom,” screams William Wallace at the end of the movie Braveheart, while English executioners tear his body apart during a prolonged torture before finally chopping off his head.
In the movie, based on a real story, Wallace fought to avenge the murder of his bride and for the freedom of Scotland.

In other parts of the world, right now, people are also fighting for freedom. Afghan women—who, up until the late 70s, had experienced steady progress in their rights, just like in many other parts of the world—saw decades of progress undone: first with the Soviet withdrawal, then with the international troop withdrawal led by the US. In both cases, a vacuum was left behind, filled by Taliban extremism, leading to violent repression of women’s rights.

The LGBTQ+ community is seeing their basic rights being repressed in Hungary (most recently a ban on the Pride parade under the guise of child protection—while neo-Nazi demonstrations are permitted—doesn’t bode well for this year’s Pride in June. Expect headlines about a harsh crackdown by the Hungarian government). This follows the Russian-style “putinization” supposedly aiming to restore or protect what some define as “conservative values.”

Ukrainians first fought to defend themselves from an invader, then were deluded by Western puppet masters into pursuing a war to defeat Russia. Now, they are being manipulated again—this time by what appears to be a Trump-Putin quasi-alliance, excluding Ukrainians from any real negotiations. Meanwhile, tens of thousands of men and women have lost—and continue to lose—their lives on the battlefields.

Investigations by international NGOs such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have concluded that Israel is committing acts that amount to genocide against Palestinians. The word genocide is one that makes one flinch—especially when viewed through the painful paradox of Jewish history just 80 years ago. Meanwhile, Palestinians have been systematically denied a voice in much of the Western media, where coverage often remains apathetic, reduced to daily death tolls that now consist almost entirely of civilians.

But what we’re really witnessing is a clash of ideologies and propaganda that we’re all severely subjected to, often forced to take a side in every situation, whether we want to or not. We are like cows, completely submitted to the will of governments, corporations, organizations—masters who have full control over our lives as a collective. In fact, I would go as far as to say that we do not exist collectively outside the context of these institutions. Is it bad? Is it good? No idea. Maybe it’s brought more good than harm—after all, organizing eight billion humans any other way might be impossible.

An age of confusion

From one perspective, the restriction of freedom arises from fear. Fear leads to a utopian attempt at control. And control eventually backfires, giving rise to reactionary forces and movements that can themselves become radicalized. The clearest historical example: fascism and Nazism rising in the 1920s in reaction to communism and the form it had taken at the time.

When ideology proliferates and takes over rationality and critical thinking, the soil becomes fertile for dictatorial practices. Take Western moral hypocrisy—we’ve been brainwashed for years into believing that Western governments are ethically driven, morally superior, and paradoxically “blessed” with the lessons learned from past horrors: colonialism, the Inquisition, concentration camps, gulags, and more. We’ve been convinced of this narrative so thoroughly that we can no longer distinguish good from evil in a world where everyone believes they are on the “right” side.

Need for freedom

So, if collective freedom depends so much on rules, ideologies, and cultural practices—are we at least freer on an individual level?

I would argue we are not. The main reason: our actions have consequences. No matter the society, the community, the family, or the relationship—we live by a set of rules that limit our individual actions. To be truly free, one must be willing to accept the consequences of their actions. That’s where ethics, values, and education come into play. To what extent we’ve been taught to respect (or disregard) rules and others makes a huge difference in our lives.

Expectations through changes

And that’s where expectations come in—when we enter a relationship, start a new job, or move to a new city or country—and reality smacks us in the face. A process begins: we polish our behavior and adapt our values to fit the new environment. In doing so, we also discover which values we’re unwilling to compromise.

We swing like a pendulum between extremes: sometimes excited by change, sometimes completely frustrated or suffocated by it. That’s when tolerance, experience, and empathy become essential. The ability to accommodate each other’s differences while preserving respect for our own backgrounds and values is a difficult job—but not impossible.

Everything changes in this process, leading us down new and unknown paths, which naturally freaks us out. Then we swing back to the other extreme, trying to control things to reestablish balance, calm, and order—before opening ourselves to the next wave of novelty.

If we pay attention, we’ll see this pattern not only at the individual level but also collectively. The real danger is when we freak out too much—and lose our minds.

#29 Uma breve distinção: ambição construtiva e ambição destrutiva

Eu tento sempre pensar em qual será o próximo passo importante que darei na minha vida. E com “passo importante”, quero dizer algo que me fará avançar como indivíduo. No entanto, às vezes me questiono se essa mentalidade não pode acabar complicando nossa vida, em vez de melhorá-la.

Ouso fazer uma distinção entre ambição construtiva e ambição destrutiva. E, ao usar “destrutiva”, não o faço de maneira leviana. Pelo contrário, acredito que uma ambição mal direcionada pode nos levar à perda da saúde, tanto física quanto mental. E não apenas a nossa própria saúde, mas também a das pessoas ao nosso redor. Um exemplo claro disso é a figura de Gordon Gekko, do filme Wall Street dos anos 80, cuja filosofia “ganância é boa” (“greed is good”) reflete perfeitamente os perigos da ambição destrutiva.

O drama dessa questão é que quem é um vetor da ambição destrutiva, na maioria das vezes (e digo isso com base apenas na minha observação pessoal, sem qualquer fundamento em pesquisa científica), não tem consciência disso. Ou, então, foi tão corrompido por essa ambição que já não há mais volta.

Por outro lado, quem manifesta ambição construtiva tem um poder incrível: sua energia parece fluir sem esforço e iluminar muito além de si mesmo. Acredito que essa ambição surja da aceitação de que a vida é feita de ciclos, mais ou menos semelhantes, mas sempre desconhecidos. Podemos imaginar o amanhã, mas nunca saberemos exatamente como ele se desenvolverá. E não saber o que nos espera, não ter controle absoluto, não é algo ruim. Pelo contrário, aprender a se entregar ao desconhecido nos ensina a aceitar o fluxo natural da vida.

Já a ambição destrutiva parece estar enraizada no desejo de controle. E esse desejo, por sua vez, nasce do medo de perdê-lo. Por isso, essa forma de ambição tem um poder corrompedor: tudo aquilo que não sabemos deixar ir tem o poder de corromper nossa alma.

#28 Le sfide del processo d’integrazione tra ammirazione e invidia

Una premessa un po’ personale

Fino a qualche anno fa, il modo in cui venivo percepito dagli altri aveva un grande impatto su di me. Mi piaceva soprattutto ispirare ammirazione piuttosto che invidia. Questa aspirazione mi induceva inconsciamente a voler compiacere o impressionare le persone intorno a me, facendo molta attenzione a non risultare arrogante o inautentico. Poi ho iniziato a comprendere le radici del mio bisogno di apprezzamento e, più ne investigavo le origini, meno potente esso diventava.
Quando, all’età di nove anni, mi trasferii in Italia con mia madre, dovetti ricominciare la mia vita da capo. Non solo dal punto di vista educativo e culturale, ma anche nell’inserirmi in una nuova famiglia e farmi nuovi amici. Non si trattava solo di abituarsi a una nuova realtà, ma di accettarla incondizionatamente, poiché, ovviamente, all’età di nove anni, non avevo ancora il potere di decidere se restare o andarmene. L’accettazione, però, non è automatica; anzi, ci sono vari livelli da attraversare per diventare prima consapevoli e poi capire cosa si vuole davvero. Abituarmi, invece, quello dovevo farlo in fretta, ma il mio processo d’integrazione non fu affatto semplice (quando mai lo è?, verrebbe da chiedersi), e gli adulti che avrebbero dovuto guidarmi non furono pazienti.
Trent’anni fa non c’era la consapevolezza, la ricerca e i dibattiti su questo tema come oggi.
A scuola mi misero in una classe indietro senza un programma specifico per il mio caso. Procedemmo tutti un po’ alla cieca: io cercavo di assorbire il più velocemente possibile, ma il processo mi sfiniva periodicamente.
In seguito, dovetti ripetere il primo anno di scuole superiori, perché i miei genitori avevano deciso per me che dovevo frequentare il liceo scientifico. Io, invece, ero ben consapevole delle mie capacità e dei miei limiti e sapevo, già da anni, che il percorso linguistico era quello giusto per me in quella fase della mia vita. Alla fine, al linguistico ci andai, e le cose migliorarono.
Dovetti investire anni per colmare il divario con i miei coetanei, ma non smisi mai di credere in me stesso, anche quando nessuno lo faceva; persino quando i miei stessi genitori sembravano aver perso le speranze e non facevano altro che punirmi in tutti i modi possibili, senza nascondere la delusione che provavano. Devo riconoscere, però, che anche loro si trovavano di fronte a una situazione difficile, senza l’aiuto di psicologi, podcast su temi di crescita personale, libri di self-help e tutte quelle risorse che oggi ci permettono di capire meglio noi stessi e il mondo in cui viviamo.

Superare insicurezze: il valore dei piccoli successi

Faccio un salto in avanti, lasciandomi alle spalle questa premessa forse troppo personale e disorganizzata.
Alla fine, sono riuscito a camminare con le mie gambe, in un paese e un continente diversi, nonostante tutte le difficoltà, il mio passato abbandonato, la famiglia lasciata alle spalle e i sogni mai realizzati in quella vita che avrebbe potuto essere, per vivere in quella che è diventata.
Per me fu uno sforzo mastodontico, di cui non prendo coscienza abbastanza spesso. D’altronde, se non siamo noi stessi a riconoscere i nostri sforzi, difficilmente lo faranno gli altri: o lo danno per scontato, o fanno finta di niente.
A un certo punto, le difficoltà sembrarono diminuire e iniziai ad avere successo nelle imprese che intraprendevo, prima in modo modesto, poi un po’ meno.
Apro una parentesi: è davvero strano scrivere di me stesso su questi temi, sapendo che altri potranno leggere. Non sono nemmeno sicuro di star dicendo tutta la verità. Finora, mi sembra di essermi solo vittimizzato.
Comunque, fu in questo momento, dopo aver superato gli ostacoli più grandi del mio processo di integrazione e aver ottenuto piccoli successi personali, che iniziai a suscitare negli altri ammirazione o invidia, o entrambe.
Capivo benissimo entrambe le emozioni. Da bambino, al mio arrivo in Italia, ero consumato da una silenziosa ma profonda invidia per i miei compagni di classe che si esprimevano in modo fluente, leggevano senza difficoltà e capivano al volo concetti complessi. Al contrario, provavo ammirazione per chi dimostrava onestà, affetto e pazienza nei miei confronti: per me, era una dimostrazione di grandezza smisurata. E furono in pochissimi a dimostrarmelo: penso a Walter, il mio allenatore di canottaggio a Monterosso; Manuel, il mio amico pittore che amavo osservare dipingere; Adriano e Corrado, compagni di barca e amici; Andrea, un genio del liceo, che non ha mai usato la sua intelligenza per sminuirmi, al contrario di molti altri; Mike, un mio amico imprenditore, che si ritagliava un po’ di tempo la mattina prestissimo per insegnarmi a surfare.
Nonostante l’empatia che provavo per coloro che vivevano queste emozioni, inizialmente mi trovavo a mio agio solo nell’essere ammirato; l’invidia degli altri mi disturbava profondamente, la trovavo addirittura pericolosa, come un male che si insidiava nella mia vita e che volevo assolutamente tenere lontano. Col tempo, però, ho imparato ad accettarla, anche quando proveniva da persone a me vicine. Anzi, spesso sono proprio queste ultime a provarla: vorremmo che le persone che amiamo gioissero dei nostri successi, invece alcune tendono a sminuirci, cercando di demotivarci o addirittura sabotarci. Ma credo che aspettarsi ammirazione sincera da tutti sia ingenuo: sia l’adorazione smisurata sia l’invidia distruttiva hanno la stessa origine, l’insicurezza di chi le prova. E il miglior modo di reagire all’insicurezza che si prova, a mio avviso, è:
1. Capire il prima possibile come migliorarsi – A piccoli passi, giorno dopo giorno, senza lasciarsi sopraffare da sfide titaniche che potrebbero riportarci nell’insicurezza.
2. Smettere subito di paragonarsi agli altri – Il motivo, spero, sia ovvio.

Cosa fare quando riceviamo invidia o ammirazione?

Generalizzando, in modo non del tutto corretto ai fini di concludere questo post, gli invidiosi esprimono la loro ammirazione dicendo il contrario di ciò che pensano. Spesso cercano di screditare i successi altrui, ridimensionandoli a semplici casualità. Gli ammiratori, invece, ci stanno accanto finché non hanno assorbito tutto ciò che abbiamo da offrire.
Imparare a riconoscere questi atteggiamenti e a non lasciarsi condizionare è estremamente importante. Evitare gli invidiosi e gli ammiratori è impossibile, perché tutti, in misura diversa, proviamo invidia o ammirazione. Ciò che conta è sviluppare empatia, riconoscere questi sentimenti in noi e negli altri e, se possibile, trasformarli in qualcosa di costruttivo.