How ChatGPT Broke My Brain (And Why I Still Use It Every Day) – Forbes
ByCurt Steinhorst,
Contributor.
I continue using ChatGPT daily—but I’ve learned to treat it how high performers treat … More
Even as a proponent of AI, I’ve learned the hard way: the biggest threat isn’t automation—it’s what I stop doing when I rely too heavily on machines.
There was a stretch—weeks, really—when I couldn’t finish a simple email without asking ChatGPT to do it for me. I’d start typing, feel unsure, and reach for a prompt. New tone. New angle. Just one more version. Every time, “maybe this one” felt like the answer. And the dopamine hit? Instant. Novel. Addictive.
What began as a tool to streamline marketing copy turned into paralysis. I stopped trusting my own phrasing. Iteration replaced decision making. And here’s what surprised me most: the more I used AI to write small things, the harder it became to write important things. Tasks I’ve tackled confidently on my own for my entire life—like every Forbes article I've authored or even my own book—shifted from being sources of intellectual challenge and joy to overwhelming experiences filled with self-doubt. My thinking felt fuzzier. The inner voice I rely on to structure an argument or hold a tension had gone quieter.
The Dopamine Loop of Prompting
ChatGPT doesn’t just give answers—it delivers a perfectly engineered cocktail of anticipation and novelty. Each version feels like it might be the one. Each response is a surprise, tapping into the psychological principle of intermittent reinforcement, famously demonstrated by psychologist B.F. Skinner, where unpredictable rewards significantly amplify behaviors, much like gambling addiction.
For someone with an ADHD brain like mine—wired for pattern-seeking, shortcut-taking, and reward-chasing—ChatGPT is catnip. Every new draft becomes a low-effort opportunity to avoid doing the hard, focused work of starting and finishing something. It becomes a loop: Prompt → Output → Evaluate → Repeat. Each time I felt uncertain, I’d outsource the discomfort rather than work through it.
Cognitive Offloading and the Erosion of Ownership
This pattern has a name in cognitive science: cognitive offloading—relying on external systems to perform mental tasks we used to internalize. AI makes it easy to skip the generative friction that creativity often requires. I wasn’t refining ideas—I was accumulating options. I wasn’t editing—I was evaluating. And eventually, I wasn’t writing—I was managing automated outputs.
That doesn’t just slow productivity. It reshapes the brain. Research by Adrian Ward and colleagues highlights how continuous dependence on digital tools for memory or problem solving reduces our ability to remember, process deeply, and engage analytically. Instead of actively shaping ideas, I found myself passively supervising generated content, weakening my own intellectual muscles.
Even the Help Sometimes Gets in the Way
I've known since high school that my best ideas emerge not at a desk, but while walking or in conversation—I literally think out loud. Colleagues joke that this clearly shows I was born to be a speaker, not a writer. When AI transcription tools arrived, they felt like the solution I'd been waiting for.
Until I got the transcript back.
It stripped the “ums,” the tangents, the little asides to my kids mid-thought (“No, you can’t have another popsicle, Daddy is working”), but it also erased the texture that made the thinking mine. I didn’t need a cleaned-up version—I needed me in words. And I lost hours trying to get the AI to un-help.
Why I Still Use It (And You Should Too)
Such a horror story might naturally lead one to assume this article is tailor-made for the AI-resistant—something they can share aggressively with that one colleague who talks about ChatGPT as much as CrossFitters reminded you they did CrossFit in 2018.
But here’s the truth: I’m not anti-AI. Avoiding it is a recipe for irrelevance.
I continue using ChatGPT daily—but I’ve learned to treat it how high performers treat performance-enhancing tools—with structure, limits, and awareness.
When used intentionally, it’s invaluable:
But here’s the key: if I don’t think first, AI doesn’t help me—it replaces me. If I don’t own my voice, it sounds like everyone else’s.
How I Reclaimed My Thinking—Without Ditching the Tech
To preserve cognitive clarity, I built boundaries grounded in science:
These aren’t just habits—they’re boundaries preserving the part of me no machine replicates.
The Real Risk for Leaders
This isn’t just about writing—it’s about attention, judgment, and trust: the core ingredients of leadership.
The danger isn’t AI replacing us—it’s AI eroding our capacity for deep, sustained human thinking, tempting us away from uniquely human work: wrestling with ideas, navigating ambiguity, and staying with the slow burn of unfinished thought.
AI is here to stay—and I’m grateful for it. It’s powerful. It’s essential. But if we don’t approach it with intention, it won’t just alter how we work. It will reshape how we think.
That’s not a technical shift. It’s a leadership risk.
We’re not at risk of being replaced by machines—unless we stop doing the very things machines need from us.
Let’s protect our minds, not just optimize our prompts.
