Did You Make That?

A question I get asked constantly — and the answer I’ve stopped apologizing for.

My youngest asked me a question after reading my last article that I haven’t been able to shake.

“Dad, did you write that? Or did AI write it?”

It’s a fair question. And I’ve been asked some version of it more times than I can count — from my kids, from colleagues, from a designer friend I was walking through my process with just last week. The specifics change. Did you design that? Did you build that? Is that yours?

But it’s always the same question underneath.

And I’ll be honest — it’s started to feel a little bit accusatory. Like using AI is a confession. Like the right answer is supposed to be “no, I didn’t really do it.”

I’m done with that framing. Here’s mine.

Let Me Rewind 20 Years

I spent the better part of two decades as a product manager. Real teams, real timelines, real product shipped to real users. One of those products was a personalized homepage for Kijiji — a project that ran for roughly a quarter of a year, with designers, developers, QA, scrum masters, and teams spread across the world.

When I showed my kids what we’d shipped, did they ask me whether I actually built it? Of course not. It was obviously a team effort. That’s just how products get made.

Now zoom in a bit. A few years before that, I was working alongside developers who practiced pair programming — two people, one screen, building something together. One person types. The other thinks out loud, catches errors, asks “wait, why are we doing it that way?” Studies show it produces better quality output. It’s also sometimes a hard sell to leadership because it looks like two people doing one person’s work.

But here’s the question nobody asks in that scenario: which person built it?

The answer, obviously, is both of them. Together.

So why is it different when one of them is AI?

The Director and the Executor

Here’s the analogy that really crystallized it for me.

Imagine I lose the use of my hands. I sit down with a talented person who knows Photoshop cold. I describe exactly what I’m seeing in my head — the layout, the spacing, the colours, the radius on those corners, the hierarchy of information. They execute it. They’re skilled, they’re fast, and the output looks incredible.

Who designed it?

I did. Unambiguously.

The person at the keyboard was a tool — a capable, skilled, essential tool — but the vision, the judgment, the direction, and the decision that it was done? That was me.

That’s exactly what working with AI feels like for me now. I’m not watching it generate stuff and hoping for the best. I’m directing. I’m pushing back. I’m saying “no, that’s not right, here’s why, try again.” And critically — I’m the one who decides when we’re done.

The Win Condition Is Still Human

I want to be completely clear about something, because I’ve preached this in the framework I shared with my kids: AI is only as good as the person directing it.

If you don’t know what you’re asking for, you’ll get garbage.

If you can’t tell whether the output is good or bad, you’ll ship garbage with confidence.

The reason I can work the way I work is because I’ve spent 20+ years building the domain knowledge to know what good looks like. I know when the design is right. I know when the product spec has a hole in it. I know when the writing doesn’t sound like me. That judgment — the judgment that’s doing the actual heavy lifting — is mine. It was never AI’s to take credit for.

Could I have done this without AI? Yes. Would it have taken dramatically longer? Also yes. A year ago, the pace at which I work today simply didn’t exist for me. And I’m not going to pretend otherwise or be sheepish about it. I’m having more fun than I’ve ever had in my career. I’m shipping more, thinking bigger, and doing work I’m genuinely proud of.

That’s not a cheat code. That’s what happens when a skilled person gets a great tool.

So — Did I Make That?

Yes.

Did I have help? I did. I always have. Every product I’ve ever shipped had a team behind it. Every design I’ve ever reviewed had a designer in front of it. Every article I’ve ever published had an editor at some point.

The difference now is that my collaborator is artificial intelligence instead of another human. It doesn’t diminish the vision. It doesn’t invalidate the direction. It doesn’t erase the thousands of hours of experience that let me know when something’s right.

It just means I’m not doing it alone.

I never was.