The Ballad of the Meat Proxies

Image credit: Noa Elgale via Unsplash​

Something wonderful happened recently. I saw a post on LinkedIn about a big pitch in Dubai where the client had shortlisted five agencies. Three of them had presented back to them the exact same pitch. Same strategy, same headlines, same imagery. All three were out.

Clients aren’t stupid, they have access to the exact same tools you do. What they don’t have is your brain, and that is exactly what they’re willing to pay for.

There’s a great new term I came across the other day, Meat Proxy. A meat proxy is described as “A person who forwards AI-generated text, code or other output without reading, understanding, or validating it. The person acts only as a relay between the AI system and the intended recipient.”

Ouch.

I love this on a couple of levels. Firstly, because we all recognise this practice in our daily lives, secondly because it’s deeply insulting. I’m pretty sure nobody would want to identify as a meat proxy, and yet so many are guilty of this exact practice.

I get it. It’s easy. And it's made easier by the fact that most of us were never taught how to write in the first place. Creative thinking and storytelling aren't on most CV checklists, despite how much we need these skills. So, when a tool comes along that takes the scary part off your plate entirely, of course you’re going to use it. The temptation to delegate all of the stuff in your job that you feel less confident about can be overwhelming. It’s also addictive. We can burn through hours of actual work in seconds. Spend more time not working. Who wouldn’t want that?

This is why everybody is doubling down on LLMs (Large Language Model), because it takes that awful, scary process and does it for us. We don’t need to write anymore; we can have a piece of software do it for us.

So how do you solve this? It’s going to be like kicking an addiction; a difficult process many of us are no doubt familiar with. The good thing here is the solution is not to give up LLMs completely, it’s just to use them in the right way.

It doesn’t matter if you can’t write, LLMs can help with that. But what you must do is start thinking, for real. Get all the crap down and fuck whether it’s good or not. The writing style, spelling, grammar, cadence, the justification behind the idea you have, all of that can be fixed. What’s important is to get down your thoughts.

Think of them as precious stones, around which an LLM can craft a beautiful range of jewellery.

I also strongly recommend you close your laptop. Computers are nothing but hot, glowing distraction bots these days, filled with all kinds of shit that are going to make focus damn near impossible. Get a notebook, draw on the back of an envelope, a post it note (if you still have any), get your ideas down, as messy as you like. The process of creating mess is actually where the ideas come from. You won’t nail it first time. But you’ll find it in the rubble of your first explosion onto paper.

Zach Cregger (look him up) has a fantastic technique he calls the “Elf Method.” This is where he hires a fictitious elf to write for him (the elf is him in disguise). The elf is dreadful at writing, because of course he is, he’s an elf for god’s sake! The elf puts down the first draft, and then once that’s done, Zach comes in and fixes it all up. This can be where you either do this yourself or get an LLM to help. Just be careful with your prompting. Ask for suggestions, and then consider them. Resist the temptation to prompt something lazy like “Fix this into a client ready presentation.”

This leads me to my final point. We’ve always been obsessed with quality, and while thorough, well considered pitches are undoubtedly valuable, something interesting is happening alongside all these meat proxies right now.

People want proof of life, I’ve written about this before so won’t bang on too much about it. But the imperfection in what you do is actually your strength. It shows people that you cared enough to put a shift in, and actually use your brain.

That is a signal of effort far more prominent than any typo or grammar error can negate.

So, get dirty, get real, unplug yourself for a moment. Get bored, go outside, and develop a new skill that will separate you from the meat proxy horde. Oh, and don’t forget to stop and thank them when you meet them, because they’re making the imperfection and unpredictability of you more valuable than it’s ever been.