A few days earlier, I'd been debating AI-generated art with a close friend who is an artist. He took immense pride in his work—and rightly so. Every character he creates carries years of practice, influences, failures, experimentation, and refinement.

Looking at AI-generated artwork, he remarked that much of it, regardless of who created it, often had the same unmistakable "AI look." His concern wasn't about technology. It was about identity. And somewhere between that conversation and my cup of Malai Chai, something clicked. 

I think we're asking the wrong question about AI. The question isn't whether AI reduces creativity. The question is whether we are bringing enough of ourselves into what AI creates. Because AI is incredibly good at producing content. But it doesn't possess lived experiences.

• It doesn't carry memories of failed projects.
• It hasn't negotiated with difficult suppliers.
• It hasn't celebrated hard-earned wins with a team.
• It hasn't spent years developing taste, judgment, or intuition.

Those belong to us. That's our malai.

This realization feels especially relevant in supply chain. For decades we've been trying to make planning smarter.

Think about something as ordinary as typing. Most of us type far faster—and certainly more legibly—than we write with a pen. Generations before us spent years perfecting handwriting because they had no alternative. 

The keyboard didn't diminish communication. It simply removed a barrier. AI is doing something similar for creativity. It removes many of the traditional barriers between an idea and its execution. The creativity doesn't disappear. It becomes amplified.

Perhaps that's the biggest opportunity AI gives us. As it takes over more planning, analysis, reporting, and execution, it gives us something increasingly precious:

• Time.
• Time to think.
• Time to imagine.
• Time to question assumptions.
• Time to connect ideas from completely different worlds.
• Time to become more creative.