After last week’s post, I heard from a lot of folks—curious, skeptical, even a little concerned.
A few asked if ChatGPT learns from me. Others wanted to know if I was “training it” when we talked. Some were surprised at how personalized its responses sounded and wondered if it was storing everything I ever said.
So let me clear up a few things.
No—ChatGPT doesn’t “learn” from me the way we typically think of learning. It doesn’t grow or change based on previous conversations—that’s how humans learn. It doesn’t store a record of our chats—that’s what stalkers do. It doesn’t remember anything unless I tell it again during that session. Every time I open a new conversation, it starts fresh.
What it does do really well is adapt—within that one conversation. If I give it more context, it sharpens its responses. If I say, “Hey, that tone doesn’t feel quite right,” or “Can you tighten this up to match how I usually write?” (I have to show it examples of how I write, by giving it a link to my blog, for example). It gets closer to what I’m looking for. But once I close the chat? That’s it. Blank slate.
That’s one reason it feels like such a helpful tool. It meets me where I am. I’m still the one steering the ship. It just rows like hell when I ask it to.
I’m not using ChatGPT because I’m lazy. I use it because I’m busy. It helps me move faster. It gives me a head start. It helps me do two things at once. It makes my turn out better work. It gives me the time to do other work things that I would not otherwise have the time to do. And, perhaps the best part? It’s never once rolled its eyes when I asked it to redo something for the third time.
Someone else asked if I was worried that ChatGPT—or some other AI thing—would take over my job. I almost laughed. Why? For as smart as it is, it’s dumb. For as much as it knows, it doesn’t know how to think. It knows information, but not what to do with it. Without me, it can’t figure out what I know and how to present it.
It needs my input and reasoning to help me do what I want to do. I can’t just say, “Write a Monday morning email for me.” It’ll come out like a sloppy bowl of oatmeal that isn’t relevant. I need to say, “Help me write a Monday morning email about…” Then it will collaborate with me and help me come up with a winning message. I can tell it I want the post trimmed to 900 words and it will do it. I can ask it to proofread and edit for grammar and typos. It will do that and tell me what doesn’t make sense. I can ask if I’m missing any key details on the subject matter. It may offer a suggestion, and even tell me where it should go in the post. It’s like we work on it together, but I’m in charge, I’m the boss, and I’m the knowledge base. It’s a very, very efficient assistant.
Think about the examples I used last week—the schedule, the Policies and Procedures manual, the rules sheet from an event. You had to feed information in, tell it what you wanted, proofread it, and update it to further suit your needs. It doesn’t just do it for you. It helps you do what you want to do, but you have to spoon-feed it. It’s an assistant. A co-collaborator. A helper. It can do things for you while you do something else.
So, to answer the big question I keep hearing: No, it’s not reading my mind, logging my life, or learning everything I know. It can’t work without me, replace me, or do what I can do on my own. It doesn’t know what I know, speak like I speak, or move from task to task all by itself.
I have tasks I can give it, and tasks I need to do on my own. I can ask it to do something and come back hours later and pick up where we left off. I can ask it to look at things I’ve written, and then craft a response in the same tone and voice. It’s pretty cool. But, when that chat is over? That chat is wiped from its memory. It can be saved on my side, so I can review it later, but it’s not storing it and learning to be me.
But it is listening carefully, helping me think clearly, and giving me back one of the most valuable things we all wish we had more of—time.
And that? That’s worth its spot in my toolbox.
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