The Human Moat: Why i build with ai

Weird subject for a publishing blog? Maybe, but it is one absolutely worth talking about. Surprisingly, the most common questions I get asked when talking about writing novels pertain to the rise of Artificial Intelligence:

What do you think about AI? Do you use AI? Can’t AI just write that for you? How are you going to compete?

The anti-AI voice is loud, and much of it comes from a place of genuine anxiety. In the 1990s, when home computing became commonplace, technology felt like a passive tool. Today, doomsday human extinction threats, the rapid growth of frontier models, agentic systems, and endless debates over keeping "humans-in-the-loop" have created a wave of fear. Much of this noise is amplified to keep capital flowing or to build corporate moats. But beneath the hype, it also confronts us with an uncomfortable thought: that human intelligence might not be uniquely dominant forever.

I don’t balk when spellcheck corrects a typo, so why fight back against a tool that will define the future? Even the platform hosting this very website, Squarespace, uses built-in AI design tools to help structure layouts, suggest visual themes, and optimize technical setups. I don't fight that utility; I lean into it. The alternative is to learn to code from scratch or pay exorbitant money to someone else for the exact same underlying functionality. We don’t get upset that bank tellers have less manual labor due to the advent of online banking, and in that same vein, we should accept that certain tasks are simply better and more efficiently handled by technology.

The AI Creative Translation Tool

The real magic of AI isn't replacing creative minds; it's communicating with them. Sourcing a skilled independent designer to build a brand identity and logo can be a daunting process. Anyone who has worked with an artist knows the friction of trying to explain a vague visual idea stuck in your head.

This is where AI excels: as a translation engine. Instead of handing a designer a wall of text or vague hand-drawn scribbles, I can use AI image generation to quickly produce rough conceptual mocks. It allows me to say to an artist, "Here is the mood, composition, and core idea. Now take this, bring your lived experience and professional mastery to it, and turn it into real, polished art." It cuts through miscommunication and elevates the final human-to-human collaboration.

(Note: if you know a graphic artist that could help me design my logo, I’d love to support them. If they’re a military veteran, even better.)

The Paradox of "AI Slop"

The key remains knowing where the boundary lies: embrace the utility, but dissuade the reliance. While I rely on smart systems to streamline administrative tasks, generate visual mockups, or assist with web infrastructure, I do not allow AI to generate final creative prose for me, and I would never put my name on AI-produced writing as my own work.

We are already seeing what happens when reliance overrides craft. Online marketplaces like Amazon KDP are being flooded with thousands of low-effort, AI-generated "slop" books, mass-produced manuscripts written in seconds, devoid of nuance, depth, or heart.

Here is the economic paradox of synthetic content: when low-cost AI slop floods the market, it doesn't diminish human creativity; it drives its value up. When raw text becomes infinitely abundant and cheap, authenticity becomes scarce. Readers grow tired of formulaic noise and begin actively seeking out work with blood, heart, and intent behind it. The difficulty merely lies in exposure and reaching an audience of authenticity-seeking readers.

AI falls short in the exact places that make literature worth reading: understanding the messiness of the human condition, feeling and invoking genuine emotion, and experiencing life while facing the reality of our own mortality.

Building the Human Moat

If you treat AI like a sounding board, a smart tool that lacks a soul, you can test ideas, hear feedback, and sharpen your thinking. In fact, AI agents partially inspired this post. I spent a few hours this summer discussing the concept of the "human moat" across a few different models. Resoundingly, the consensus was clear: the most effective way for creators to thrive alongside AI is to double down on raw, experience-driven human storytelling. A messy, unfiltered brand built on lived experience is nearly impossible for a machine to replicate.

That is why sharing human-created work, our writing, art, music, and ideas, with friends, family, and our communities matters more now than ever. Passing along a real book, sharing a deeply felt story, or supporting an independent artist isn't just about entertainment anymore. It's a conscious act of preserving human connection.

To address those common questions directly:

• What do you think about AI? It’s an exceptional tool. I used it as a sounding board to organize my rough thoughts for this very post.

• Do you use AI? Nearly every day across dozens of practical tasks, from website layout and visual mockups to planning travel itineraries, building budgets, and negotiating prices.

• Can’t AI write your book for you? AI could imitate my prose or finish one of my novels in seconds, but it can't write the story I want to tell. It hasn't lived my life and doesn’t feel what I want my readers to feel.

In the end, writing, speaking, and sharing real human thought with the people around us isn't just how we compete with AI; it's how we stay connected and stay human alongside it.

New beginnings and rambling thoughts.

I’ve written a blog before. On my first deployment, I created one and wrote about a dozen entries. You could probably still find it on the internet if you looked hard enough. I hope you don’t—eighteen years later, it’s almost certainly mortifying. If you do find it, you’ll likely be only the second person to read it, right behind my mom. (Thanks, mom.)

Anyway, I’m hoping this blog gets slightly more attention—mainly because I have high hopes for this next chapter.

On this September 11th, 25 years after the attacks in 2001, I’m especially reflective. There is plenty of memorializing commentary and solemn remembrance surrounding this anniversary, and this isn't meant to compete with that. I simply wonder what all those who lost their lives during and after that day would be doing if they were standing in my shoes today.

A friend of mine from the military remarked today that if it weren’t for 9/11, there’s little to no chance we ever would have met. A few silver linings on an otherwise heavy day. I am deeply thankful for those military friendships—and for the opportunity to do what comes next.

I am officially 123 days away from military retirement. After 21 years, I intend to walk away from the only constant in my adult life. Sounds scary. It is. The notion of losing your institutional identity is a tough pill to swallow, and it makes the transition difficult for anyone hanging up the uniform.

When people learn I’m retiring, the first question is always: "Do you have a job lined up?"

My answer is always the same: "I’ll get a job when I’m bored enough to want one."

I have no doubt I’ll work again, but I’ve come to realize this transition is a rare window of absolute freedom. It’s an opportunity to take a chance on myself and see where the road leads. Unlike my time in the military, failure here is an option—and one I’m fully willing to entertain.

I’m embarking on a journey to launch an independent publishing imprint: Blood & Treasure Publishing LLC.

The goal is twofold: self-publish a handful of novels I’ve drafted over the past eighteen months, while simultaneously building a brand that helps other military veterans interested in writing gain real visibility. The average first-time self-published author sells between 50 and 250 copies. By building a focused, veteran-centric imprint, we can pool our audiences, reach readers who want authentic, military-adjacent storytelling, and move the needle together.

Sounds easy. It isn’t.

But the opportunity cost is low. If this turns out to be an incredible waste of my time, I’ll have merely wasted time I would have otherwise spent doing equally unproductive things during my transition. I’ve already learned a massive amount about the publishing industry, so it isn't truly wasted anyway.

Despite the lack of existential threat, I still don't intend to fail. I know there are plenty of people who would love to have the luxury to risk failing at something they actually enjoy doing.

Like I said—I have high hopes.

Follow the Journey:

Blood & Treasure Publishing LLC is currently preparing its launch catalog, featuring dark dystopian satire, veteran fiction, and unvarnished storytelling. Sign up for our newsletter on the Contact page to be notified of new blog posts, and get behind-the-scenes updates on our upcoming debut release, Prisoner of Fate.