Power Tool ≠ Sage — Stop Asking AI to Be Human. Start Using It as the Ultimate Tool
AI isn’t "intelligent" the way we imagine — it’s a probability machine. Framed wrong, it’s hype and hot air. Framed right, it’s the most powerful tool in human history. In this piece, I skim through why names matter, the basics of how LLMs work, and the two soul checks every AI application must pass: the right model and the right context.


TL;DR
- Stop treating AI like a mind and start using it like a power tool; it’s a next‑word probability machine with charisma, not a sage with wisdom.
- The Transformer is the engine under every shiny model hood, and knowing its limits keeps expectations grounded and results useful.
- Hallucinations happen when close probabilities get forced into a single word and the model doubles down; dial rigour vs creativity with decoding, not wishful thinking.
- AI doesn’t remember anything; context is rented by the prompt, so repeat what matters and use RAG when the corpus won’t fit in the window.
- Everything reduces to two soul‑checks: did we choose the right model, and did we feed it the right context?
- Agents are cool in demos, but stability beats autonomy in real work, with software dev as the rare exception, thanks to endless data and instant feedback.
- For most teams, nail retrieval and search first, so the model gets the right snippets at the right time — this is step one of any serious AI strategy.
- Bottom line: sharpen prompts, curate context, and treat AI as an amplifier, not an oracle; the tool works wonders when the framing is right (and no, it still won’t fly the car).
The Problem With “Artificial Intelligence”
Is the biggest roadblock for AI in business… the name “artificial intelligence” itself?
Before we even get into how AI works, there’s one mental reset we need to make. Erase the word "artificial intelligence" from your brain. Gone. Poof. Honestly, I’d blame at least half of the struggles in “AI adoption” on this misleading name. Why? Because it was the wrong label from day one.
Here’s the problem: even the most advanced models we have today are nowhere near what most people picture when they hear the word “intelligence.” What we really have is something that should’ve been called — brace yourself — a probability calculator for the next word.
Yeah, it sounds like the nerdiest gadget in a math teacher’s desk drawer. But if everyone on the planet actually understood AI in those terms, we’d cut through a huge chunk of the hype fog. And suddenly, the “why isn’t AI driving GDP yet?” question wouldn’t feel like such a mystery.
The Transformer: The Engine Behind Every Model
First up, this diagram: it’s basically the skeleton underneath almost every big AI model you’ve heard of. GPT-3, 4, 5, Claude, Gemini, DeepSeek, Llama, Qwen — you name it. At their core, they all run on the Transformer architecture.

Sure, each provider tweaks the recipe — different numbers of parameters, special training tricks, extra bells and whistles — but the bones are the same. It’s like comparing a Pontiac Aztek with a Rolls-Royce: both still have a chassis, an engine, and four wheels.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “I’m not an engineer. I’m never going to build one of these things. Why do I need to care about the plumbing under the hood?”
Because even a basic sense of the underlying design tells you where the edges are — what AI can do, and what it can’t. That’s the starting point for actually using it wisely. Think back to cars: once you understand they’re designed to roll on roads, not flap into the sky, you stop wasting time dreaming about flying sedans.
And here’s the kicker: unless the Transformer gets completely dethroned, it’s likely to stay the engine driving society’s progress for the next decade or more.
So, let’s look at the diagram. On the left side, we’ll leave things untouched for now. Instead, we’ll zoom in on the right — the Decoder part. That’s the beating heart of today’s mainstream generative models, like GPT.
Tokens: Breaking Language Into Chunks
Here’s how it actually works. Say you type in a sentence like: “Is Elon Musk an idiot?”
That sentence immediately gets chopped up into smaller pieces called tokens— basically, little word chunks. Then, one by one, those tokens line up and march straight into the model’s brain (yep, that big box in the diagram).
Now, here’s the funny part: when they first walk in, the words are total strangers. Each one is clueless about the others. Take “Musk” for example. At this stage, it only knows two things about itself:
- Its background knowledge. Thanks to training on mountains of data, it knows “Musk” is a person’s name, apparently rich, and faintly linked to a buddy named Trump.
- Its position. It knows it’s standing right at the front of the line.
Multi-Head Attention: The Icebreaker Party
So far, so good. But words can’t stay in isolation forever. They need to mingle. That’s where the magical process called multi-head attention comes in. But instead of that mouthful, picture it as a team icebreaker session. The goal? Get all the words acquainted, fast.
After this icebreaker, Musk suddenly realises: “Oh wait, I’m the subject of this sentence.” It also notices that suspicious word “idiot” hanging out in the back… and yeah, that seems to be pointing right at him.
Feedforward Networks: Solo Reflection Time
Once the icebreaker’s done, it’s time for phase two: the feedforward network. Think of this as a personal retreat. Each word goes off by itself to reflect deeply, combining what it has just learned from the group. Musk, in this step, might brood: “Am I really the idiot here?” By the end of this little retreat, every word comes back carrying a richer, more nuanced sense of identity.
Then comes the most important step: speaking up. The model now tries to predict the next word. It weighs all the words you’ve already given it, with closer or more relevant ones carrying heavier influence. Using that, it calculates a probability table from its entire vocabulary. Maybe it figures the chance of“yes” is 50% and“no” is 40%.
At this point, the model has to pick. And here’s the kicker: this choice has nothing to do with intelligence. It’s just math. If it always picks the highest-probability word, you’ll get rigid, precise answers — but they may sound stiff. If instead it picks from a “core set” of high-probability words — say everything that adds up to 90% — then its responses feel looser, more creative… but occasionally a bit wobbly.
That’s the eternal trade-off: rigour vs imagination, all controlled by a simple linear algorithm.
Autoregression: Talking in Loops
Once the model picks — say it chooses“yes”— that word instantly gets fed back in as part of the new context. Then the model predicts the next word, and the next, and the next. This looping process is called autoregression: the model constantly builds on its own freshly spoken output.
Once you understand this basic cycle, it becomes much clearer where the model’s limits lie — and why calling it “intelligence” oversells the magic.
Hallucinations in Large Models
Alright, let’s talk about“hallucinations” in large language models.
Back to our earlier example: “Is Elon Musk an idiot?”
When the model gears up to answer, here’s what it does. First, it compresses its understanding of your entire question into a kind of thought signal— a fuzzy, meaning-packed vibe. Then it scans its whole vocabulary, asking: “Which word feels most like this signal?”
Let’s say the results come out like this: “Yes” feels closest, with a 50% match; “No” is a little behind at 40%; and every other word is way off in the distance.
Here’s where the trouble starts.
Why AI Makes Overconfident Mistakes
At this point, the model doesn’t actually “know” the answer. All it knows is that“Yes” seems just a tiny bit more likely than“No.”But the model can’t tell you: “Eh, I’m kinda torn.”It has to spit out a definite word. So, following the rules we gave it, it forces itself to pick one.
And when probabilities are this close, that choice is basically… a coin flip.
Now here’s the scary part: once it randomly picks“Yes”, the model immediately doubles down. Every word it generates afterwards works overtime to defend that brand-new, coin-flip opinion: “Musk is definitely an idiot.”
That’s why the answers you get from a large model can feel biased or strangely overconfident. This is what we call a hallucination.
The Trade-Off: Rigour vs Creativity
So what can you do about this “built-in” flaw? The simplest fix is to force the model to always choose the single highest-probability word. The upside: you get answers that are precise, careful, and free from wild detours. The downside: they’re also painfully dull, with zero imagination.
In some serious engineering applications, models really are tuned to be this conservative. But in chatbots like ChatGPT? Forget it. No company wants its model to come across as a boring, pedantic bookworm.
Meta’s Banned Fix for AI Hallucinations
Once upon a time, there was a dazzlingly clever solution to the hallucination problem. Meta published a paper a few months back introducing something called“Continuous Chain-of-Thought.”When I first read it, I was fired up — it felt like the perfect fix.
But then OpenAI, Anthropic, Google, Amazon — the whole AI Avengers squad — collectively petitioned to have it outlawed, terrified it might crack open Pandora’s box.
So what was this dangerous idea? Let’s go back to our favourite example: “Is Elon Musk an idiot?”
Continuous Chain-of-Thought Explained
Normally, before giving you an answer, a model generates a kind of inner monologue— its reasoning process — known as a chain of thought. If you’ve used ChatGPT, you’ve probably seen glimpses of this when it “thinks” before responding.
Here’s the catch: the model generates that chain of thought the exact same way it generates final answers — word by word, making probabilistic choices at each step. Which means even its thinking can wobble due to randomness.
Meta’s big idea? Don’t force the model to choose while it’s still thinking.
Remember, hallucinations happen because we force the model to pick between “yes” (50%) and “no” (40%). Meta’s proposal was: let it carry that indecision —60% yes, 40% no— throughout its reasoning process.
That undecided state is like a quantum superposition— Schrödinger’s cat. Each step of its reasoning remains in this fuzzy overlap until, at the very end, it collapses into a final answer. Then, and only then, does it spit out something in plain human language.
Think of it like this: instead of pressuring a hesitant friend to take sides right away, you let them carefully weigh every pro and con first. The result? Way more objective, thoughtful reasoning.
But here’s the downside: quantum superpositions are, by nature, unreadable. Which means when the model is in that fuzzy state, its thinking becomes completely opaque to us — a black box.
And if we can’t monitor what it’s “thinking” during training, well, that’s a pretty big safety risk. A Pandora’s box, indeed. Which explains why, as soon as the paper dropped, all the giants lined up to squash it.
Back to reality: since readable reasoning is a non-negotiable safety valve, we’re stuck — at least for now — with the current system, randomness and all. Which means the only practical way to reduce hallucinations is to change how we use the model.
Burn this into your brain: You’re not chatting with a person. You’re programming a probability machine with language.
Example: Ask, “What’s the capital of Myanmar?”The model may get stuck, because Myanmar moved its capital from Yangon to Naypyidaw in late 2005. Both answers are strong contenders in its training data. So when forced to pick, it might basically flip a coin.
But reframe the question: “What is the current capital of Myanmar?”That one extra word — current— tips the probability scales heavily toward the right answer.
Same with images. A friend once complained: “I asked AI to draw a hand, and it couldn’t even get five fingers right!”Why? Because in the training data, hands in photos are rarely shown with all ten fingers visible at once. So what’s common sense for a toddler is actually a weak spot for the model.
The lesson: avoiding hallucinations isn’t about whining that AI is “dumb.” It’s about checking if our prompts are lazy. Every word you type matters.
Guide it well, and AI becomes your amplifier — helping you achieve things no human could pull off alone. Treat it like a wishing well and toss in vague questions, and you’ll end up grumbling at the garbled answers: “Seriously? You can’t even get this one simple thing right?”
AI’s Achilles’ Heel: Memory (or Lack Thereof)
You Treat AI Like a Confidant, But to AI You’re Just a Random Stranger
Alright, let’s talk about AI’s second Achilles’ heel: memory. Or more accurately, it doesn’t have one.
I know, you’re probably ready to argue: “That’s not true! ChatGPT remembers my name… it even remembered my birthday once!”And sure, people who think they’re “dating” their chatbot would agree with you.
But here’s the harsh truth: every single thing you say to a large model is, from its perspective, the very first time it’s ever spoken to you. Its real memory is what engineers etched into its parameters during training with oceans of data. Once it’s released and those parameters are locked, all future conversations are nothing but smoke in the wind — gone without a trace.
So how does it “remember” your birthday? That’s a neat magic trick. Behind the scenes, engineers quietly slip a cheat sheet in front of every message you send. For example, you type: “Good morning.” What the AI actually sees might look more like this:
“This user’s name is John, male, birthday Jan 1. He’s emotionally attached to you and kind of a softie. Your job is to play the role of a caring assistant who remembers details about him so he keeps coming back. He just said: ‘Good morning.’ Please reply.”
Every conversation has an invisible director feeding the model stage directions like this.
We call this scaffolding memory, but really, there are two flavours: short-term and long-term. And short-term memory is where things usually go sideways. A friend once told me, “I listed four very clear writing rules at the start of the chat. But a few messages in, the AI totally forgot them and did its own thing. What gives?”
The answer lies in how memory actually works.
Here’s the key concept: the context window. Every model has a limit to how much text it can “see” at once. With each upgrade, the window expands, but it’s nowhere near infinite.
This creates a massive gap between humans and AI. We build unique long-term memories from our lives and work experiences. That’s like AI’s pretraining phase — except its pretraining is stuffed with the world’s generic information. The result? It knows a little about everything, but it can’t reach real mastery in your specific field. Even if it absorbed financial expertise during training, that knowledge gets diluted by the flood of cooking blogs, travel diaries, and soccer commentary that it also ingested.
Here’s an example. You’re a financial analyst. When the Fed Chair says, “We’re not in a hurry”, you instantly read between the lines: “Rate cuts aren’t happening anytime soon — everyone hold tight.”
A large model might get that nuance too — if it just finished crunching financial reports. But if it then reads a million recipes and travel articles, that subtle meaning evaporates, and“We’re not in a hurry” slides back to its plain, literal sense. You, on the other hand, never lose that trained intuition from years in the field.
That’s why, when you’re chatting with a general-purpose model like GPT, you can’t assume it “gets” your industry’s unwritten rules. If you want it to follow them, you have to spell them out — clearly, explicitly, and right there in the context window.
How a Chatbot Manages Its “Window”
So, how does a chatbot actually manage this context window? Let’s say you’ve already gone back and forth with AI for five rounds. When you ask your sixth question, the system might take your last three exchanges and paste them in front of your query, word for word.
Why Compression Breaks Accuracy
But what about the earlier messages? To avoid blowing up the window, the system compresses them into a summary. And the moment you start compressing, accuracy inevitably takes a hit.
Now imagine you’ve been chatting for fifty rounds. Those carefully written instructions you gave at the very beginning? Long gone — squeezed, watered down, almost erased. Worse yet, the summarisation step itself is risky. Whether the AI captures the essence of your earlier chats directly affects the quality of its answers. It’s like talking to that one friend who always latches onto some irrelevant detail and derails the entire conversation. Large models have that problem too. Which is why, if accuracy matters, it’s best to repeat the important instructions yourself instead of trusting the system to remember.
But here’s the catch: this kind of “compression” only works within a single chat window. What if your company has millions of words of internal documents and you want AI to answer questions based on them? Summarising won’t cut it.
Enter RAG: Retrieval-Augmented Generation
To handle an industrial-scale context, you need a smarter system — one that, in real time, retrieves just the most relevant snippets from the massive knowledge base and feeds them to the model. That’s what we call RAG (Retrieval-Augmented Generation).
So here’s the bottom line: when you’re using a general-purpose model, 90% of answer quality depends on how well you manage the context you feed it.
Whether it’s you chatting casually with a bot, or a company building a sophisticated AI search tool, the principle is the same: give the model the right, useful context.
Right Model, Right Context: The Two Soul-Checks of AI
In fact, every nonlinear problem we throw at large models — no matter how complex — can ultimately be broken into two soul-searching questions:
- Did we pick the right model?
- Did we feed it the right context?
Let’s look back:
- A user complains that AI always rushes to give a final answer instead of brainstorming. That’s a context issue — we didn’t tell it that we just wanted to bounce ideas around.
- Another user asks, “Which headlines will really strike a chord with the investing crowd today?”That leans more toward a model issue. Such judgments rely heavily on human analysts’ intuition, something you can’t teach a general model with a few lines of context. You’d need a domain-specific model.
- Someone else wants AI to polish their writing? That’s both a model and context issue. You need precise instructions about style, audience, and editing rules, and possibly a fine-tuned model that can mimic a brand’s unique voice.
Even the gnarly, enterprise-grade use cases are no different. They’re just chains of these same nodes. And each node boils down to those same two questions: Right model? Right context?
This is why AI search is such a strategic priority. At its core, AI search is really just the “R” in RAG — retrieval. Its ultimate goal is to nail the “feed the right context” part to perfection.
And that’s why the value of AI search goes far beyond just letting users type queries. For companies, it should be step one of their entire AI strategy.
Because let’s be honest: for small and mid-sized businesses, the “choose the right model” part is limited. Training a specialised domain model requires mountains of data and resources most don’t have. And today’s open-source base models aren’t exactly inspiring confidence. Even if you’ve got the data, you’ll struggle.
Which leaves only one sensible move: solve the context problem— completely, thoroughly, once and for all.
Why Overhyping AI Agents Misleads Everyone
In my view, one big reason large models aren’t rolling out faster in vertical industries is OpenAI’s own doing. They’ve oversold the dream of the AI Agent— making everyone believe that if we just throw all our tools and problems at AI, it’ll act like a perfect butler and handle everything for us.
That’s why I really appreciate a point Anthropic — one of their rivals — has made: instead of obsessing over whether a system “is” an AI Agent, we should be asking how agentic it is— in other words, how much decision-making power are you actually handing over to the AI?
Because under today’s technology, “autonomous decision-making” and “stable, controllable behaviour” are still a trade-off. As long as the Transformer architecture remains fundamentally unchanged, the real path to solving domain-specific problems is to bias systems toward stability and control.
Yes, there are rare exceptions — software development, for instance. AI shines there because it enjoys two extremely rare conditions: a bottomless data goldmine and an instant feedback signal(code runs or breaks immediately). Outside a handful of such industries, though, those conditions barely exist.
So if we keep buying into OpenAI’s hype and expect AI to deliver on that perfect-butler fantasy, disappointment is guaranteed.
It’s like this: in the era of horse-drawn carriages, someone invents a car — a genuinely world-changing tool — but insists on calling it an aeroplane. Naturally, people try to make it fly. When it won’t, they get angry: “What a piece of junk!”
But if from the start you simply told people, “This is a car. It’s way faster than your horse, never needs sleep, and never tires,” that “car” would transform society.
Key Takeaways for Using AI Wisely
- Forget “intelligence.” Remember “tool.”The first step to using large models well is to separate them from human wisdom. Framed correctly, they’re the most powerful tool in human history. Framed incorrectly, they’re just a bubble spouting pretty words.
- They’re probabilities, not truth. A large model is a probability machine. The word it outputs is often a random pick from a small high-probability set. That’s the root of hallucination. What we can do is influence those probabilities with sharper questions.
- No memory, only context. Every word you say to AI is gone like smoke. Its so-called “memory” is just the cheat sheet we engineers slip in temporarily. Don’t expect it to remember — learn to keep your key info right in front of it.
- Two key questions. Every AI application boils down to the same two soul-checks: Did we choose the right model? Did we feed it the right context? From gnarly industrial problems to a simple chat, keep these two in mind.
If you frame AI correctly, as the most powerful tool in human history, the real question isn’t if it matters, but how you put it to work. That’s exactly the gap we’re focused on at EaseFlows AI(easeflows.ai): helping organisations bridge that model–context divide so AI actually delivers.