I Can't Do That, Dave

But I can do other things

Hello Friends,

Last week I discussed my time surfing the Web at the very beginning of the era of the Internet. That was my experience as a consumer of online information. This week, we’re on the opposite end of the story; my time as a website creator just this past weekend.

I’ve been building websites for decades. I started with the very first iteration of HTML (the foundational language of all websites), and I’ve lived through every major iteration of online technologies, having even contributed to the Internet software canon by developing many first-of-a-kind products and services (it’s been a ride).

Last Sunday, I built a website for my coaching efforts: WriteWithKarmicRobot.com.

Partly because I have done it for so long and partly because there are so many tools and apps—like WordPress, Wix, Squarespace, etc.—for a person to build a website that I actually don’t enjoy doing it. The thrill has been gone for a long time.

When I first learned how to build websites, there were no tools; I had to write low-level code to make the website look and act exactly as I wanted. The process could take a long time, since most of my efforts were by trial and error.

But in the end, I had complete control over the outcome and immediate access to change what was needed.

Today, this is not the case. Website building technologies have gotten so advanced and the languages have evolved so considerably that a person, like myself, has to struggle even to attempt to set up a website manually with code. We no longer have the keys to the kingdom, so to speak.

It’s like how working on a car built in the 1970s is very different from working on a 2026 model. Tinkering is impossible unless you have very sophisticated tools and learn specific skills.

By nature, I am a tinkerer. So, this whole new-fangled website-building thing of today is for the birds (or aliens—more on that below).

But I need this website to promote my coaching to help people finish their books. So, with much trepidation, I threw myself at it once again.

To begin, I chose a hosting company (the people responsible for my website showing up when you type the URL in your browser). The hosting company (spaceship.com—I mean, how could I not choose that company) had two options for building a website:

• Alf, the AI website builder

• WordPress, a technology that has been around for almost as long as I have.

Almost half of all websites on the Internet have been created with WordPress. There are people who are dedicated WordPress developers, and there are even niches within niches of WordPress communities.

It’s a thing in software development to build an application to solve a very specific problem, like storing all my contacts. Then, the developer thinks, with a few modifications, I can store other stuff and share it with people.

Eventually, one of those people comes along and adds the ability to do things with the stored stuff, like automating the sending of birthday and holiday emails to your contacts.

And then, maybe someone else adds the capacity to not send whole emails, but instead send links to web pages with photos and videos.

BAM! Your contact list program has become a web development application.

WordPress is kind of the poster child for this sort of technological evolution. From the early days of its existence, WordPress was built to be modular, allowing anyone to create (and sell) components that provide a plethora of functionalities: web stores, sales funnels, photo albums.

Unfortunately, in computer development, modular systems can become very complex as coders extend other coders’ modules for their own creations.

Before long, to build a website with WordPress that does anything (and you can pretty much do anything with it), you need to install (and probably purchase) an array of inter-related add-ins.

So, to build a basic website, as I was trying to do this weekend, I had to wade through layers of interconnected modules I didn’t really want but must download and activate for the website to work.

But regardless, I chose WordPress (over Alf, the friendly AI) anyway, thinking it was probably the best of the two terrible options. I have experience with it. And because it is so prevalent, there are a lot of resources for help.

Well, it wasn’t a great decision.

I spent a day battling with it, trying to find a basic layout template that would work for me. All the modules I tried allowed me to add some functionality, then tried to upsell me more functionality if I actually wanted to complete the site.

This was last week’s beef with the Internet.

As an aside, this has been my experience with WordPress since the beginning—I think it’s a “me” thing. I just don’t grok its paradigm. (I hate Elon took this awesome word from us.)

www.imdb.

Anyway, frustrated and angry, I gave up and tried Alf, the AI website builder.

Unfortunately for all you fellow Luddites out there, it was a revelatory experience. While it wasn’t perfect by any stretch, it worked and got the job done.

In less than 2 hours, with very little stress and trauma, I had the results, more-or-less, that I wanted. After a tiny technical hiccup, resolved by a human at customer service, my website was live on the Internet. I had even linked Calendly and Zoom so potential clients could book an exploratory call with me.

Looking at the code that was produced by Alf, I saw it was straightforward, almost old-school HTML. I have spent years trying to preach to my developers that simple is best, easy to maintain, more secure, and performs well.

Alf did this on its first try.

In the end, unexpectedly, I found Alf to be a web developer I would work with again.

This, after all my anti-AI rants!

I will say this in my defense: I have always maintained that people should use whatever tools are available to them.

And, in very narrow contexts, like simple coding or basic customer service interactions (for example, changing account settings), artificial intelligence can be a fine tool; you just have to go in with very low expectations. And, like with human customer service representatives, assume they are doing the best they can in a demanding job.

When we ask too much, both humans and AI can disappoint. But perhaps, working together on the right things in the right way, we can become more than the sum of our parts.

I still won’t let AI write for me. That’s just crazy talk.

Happy reading, happy writing,

David