The Things We Don't Google Anymore

Technology has changed the way we live now. Smartphones, laptops, tablets, AI- everything has not only made our lives easier but also made us dependent on it way too much. We used to remember phone numbers, but now they are saved in our contacts. Calculations were taught in a way that they could be done on fingers, but now we use calculators more often than ever. Similarly, when Google came into our lives, it seemed and felt like a fresh wave of information, in abundance. For every little thing, our answer was Google it. That was a time when curiosity had a process.

Google had answers for everything. You typed in your question, scanned the results, opened a few tabs, dismissed a couple of suspicious-looking websites, read a long article and somewhere between a Reddit thread and a beautifully designed blog, you eventually found your answer.

And sometimes, that was the best part. You went online looking for one thing and came away knowing five others. Today, the experience is different.

Today we ask ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini or Perplexity.

The question can be specific, vague, half-formed or slightly ridiculous. It doesn't matter. We type it in and, within seconds, receive an answer, neatly arranged for us.

And it does not limit itself to questions and answers. From restaurant recommendations to planning an itinerary, from drafting an email to analyzing reports, from looking up recipes to finding explanations of food allergies and combinations, ChatGPT is currently our go-to for almost everything.

This wandering around for information has changed now, or rather has evolved.

The early internet was cluttered, unpredictable and occasionally painful to navigate. But it had one quality that increasingly streamlined digital lives seem to be losing: Serendipity.

You could search for a hotel somewhere and end up reading a travel diary from someone who had lived there for 6 months. You could search for a recipe and find yourself on a personal blog, reading about someone's grandmother, their childhood kitchen and the dish they had been making for twenty years.

Not every click was useful. Not every article was well written. Not every opinion deserved to be heard.

The internet had rabbit holes. And we happily fell into them. But the experience was human. There was room for personality, eccentricity and the occasional completely unnecessary 2,000-word explanation of something that could technically have been answered in two sentences.

We weren't just searching. We were wandering.

AI has changed that relationship entirely. Google pointed us towards information; AI feels more like a conversation.

Instead of asking, “What are the best things to do in Paris?” we can say:

“I'm going to Paris for four days. I don't want the obvious tourist attractions. I like beautiful restaurants, architecture, neighbourhoods I can walk around, and I don't want my days to feel rushed.”

The answer AI comes up with is tailored for us. It doesn’t simply help us find information; it helps us filter it, and it feels like magic.

With Google and AI, we are exposed to more information than any generation before us. However, we do not have the time to filter that immense pool of information as per our needs. Each time we choose AI, we choose convenience. Somewhere in this optimization, shortlisting, something subtle changes.

With Google, there was something different. We searched for recommendations and found some options, but we also came across someone’s experience. Reading someone’s experience could change our minds. A long-form article could introduce an idea you hadn't considered. A writer's particular way of describing something could make an ordinary experience feel extraordinary.

With AI, we have become very good at getting to the point. We increasingly want the conclusion without the journey. There is nothing wrong with this. In fact, there is something deeply satisfying about it. But the journey used to matter too. But you had encountered a perspective.

Information now has become abundant, but perspective has not. AI can tell you what to see in Paris. However, a good travel writer can tell you why they loved Paris, what to skip there, and how the city feels. AI can give you ten books to read. A person can tell you which book changed the way they thought about something. AI can explain a trend. A writer can make you notice that you are living through it.

AI has made it remarkably easy to create competent content. And competent content is everywhere. It is polished. It is structured. It is grammatically correct. It has headings, lists and neatly packaged conclusions. But competence is not the same as character. The internet could easily become filled with content that is perfectly acceptable and completely forgettable. The same five recommendations. The same ten tips. The same carefully constructed phrases. The same opinions, rearranged. And perhaps this is why personal writing will matter more, not less.

Because personality is difficult to replicate convincingly when it has nothing underneath it.

For a long time, blogging was built around information. How to do something. Where to go. What to buy. What to eat. What to see. And, of course, search engines rewarded this.

Write about a subject people are searching for. Use the right keywords. Answer the question. Optimize the page.

It worked.

But now, if someone can ask an AI assistant the same question and receive a tailored answer in seconds, simply having the information is no longer enough.

The question becomes:

Why should I read your version?

The answer cannot always be, because I have more information. It might be:

Because you've actually experienced it. Because you have taste. Because your perspective is interesting. Because your story made me see something differently. Because you noticed a detail I would have missed. Because I trust your judgement. Or simply because I enjoy the way you write. That is a very different value proposition. And I think it is an exciting one.

We Still Ask AI Almost Everything

We don't want to spend forty minutes searching for the answer to something that could have taken forty seconds.

We like convenience. We like personalized recommendations. We like being able to take a half-formed thought and turn it into something coherent. We like asking questions without worrying that they sound silly. And I don't think we need to choose between AI and human writing.

They serve different purposes. Sometimes, we want an answer. Sometimes, we want an opinion. Sometimes, we want a shortcut. And sometimes, we want to sit with someone's thoughts for a while. The mistake would be assuming those experiences are interchangeable.

They aren't.

The Things We Don't Google Anymore

There are so many of them. We don't Google how to word an uncomfortable message. We don't Google what to make for dinner with the ingredients we have. We don't Google how to structure a presentation. We don't Google where to go for a weekend. We don't Google explanations for the things we don't understand. We don't even necessarily Google the questions we once asked our friends. We ask AI.

It is faster, easier and increasingly intuitive. But perhaps the more interesting question isn't what we no longer Google. It's what we still choose to read.

Because when information becomes effortless, reading becomes less about obtaining an answer and more about seeking something else. A perspective, a voice, a story, a feeling. A thought that lingers longer than the screen does.

Perhaps Thoughtful Writing Has Never Been About Answers

Maybe we got this wrong all along. The best writing was never valuable simply because it contained information. It was valuable because it made us see. It made us recognize ourselves in someone else's experience. It gave language to something we had felt but couldn't articulate. It introduced an idea that stayed with us long after we closed the page. It made an ordinary subject interesting because someone cared enough to look at it differently.

AI can give us the answer. But a thoughtful writer can make us reconsider the question. And I suspect that distinction will matter more as the internet becomes increasingly automated. Because the future probably won't belong to the people who can produce the most words. It will belong to the people who have something worth saying.

So yes, ask ChatGPT. Ask it for the itinerary. The recipe. The email. The explanation. The shortlist. Let technology make life easier. But every once in a while, take the scenic route.

Read the unnecessarily long article. Follow the strange link. Read someone's story even though you weren't looking for it. Stay with an idea that doesn't immediately resolve itself. Get distracted. Discover something you didn't know you wanted to know.

Because perhaps that is what we are really in danger of losing. Not information.

And in a world where almost every answer can now arrive instantly, that pleasure may become one of the most luxurious things we have left.

Love,

Shriya!