Wherein Claude helps me launch this Substack

Here are options that carry that sense of reluctant acceptance or compromise with something suspect:

Direct capitulation:

• ...the idea of a writer accepting AI felt radical
• ...the idea of a writer adopting AI felt radical
• ...the idea of a writer using AI felt radical

Compromise/collaboration with the enemy:

• ...the idea of a writer working with AI felt radical
• ...the idea of a writer partnering with AI felt radical
• ...the idea of a writer collaborating with AI felt radical

Selling out:

• ...the idea of a writer turning to AI felt radical
• ...the idea of a writer relying on AI felt radical

Strongest option for “capitulation to evil”:

• ...the idea of a writer entertaining AI felt radical (suggests even considering it was taboo)
• ...the idea of a writer welcoming AI felt radical (ironic — welcoming the enemy)

My vote: “using” or “working with”

“Using” is neutral but in context feels loaded — like admitting you’re using this compromised tool. “Working with” implies partnership with something that feels like a betrayal of craft.

Both are understated, which makes them more effective than something like “embracing” which sounds too enthusiastic anyway.

What’s the exact feeling you’re going for? Guilty pragmatism? Reluctant adaptation? Selling out?

“Experimenting with” is perfect.

It captures exactly the right moment: writers weren’t fully committed, they were testing the waters, poking at this new tool with curiosity and caution. There’s openness in “experimenting” but also tentativeness—you experiment with things you’re not sure about yet.

It also positions writers as active agents exploring a tool, not passive victims surrendering to one. That fits your philosophy: thoughtful, intentional use rather than capitulation.

And “experimenting with AI felt radical, even traitorous” works beautifully because it highlights the absurdity of the reaction. Just trying the tool, just seeing what it could do, felt like betrayal. That captures how charged the moment was without overstating your role or the writers’ choices.

This is the right word.

It’s good as is. “Traitorous” already does that work — it implies betrayal, selling out to the enemy, crossing a line you shouldn’t cross.

If you wanted to push it even further, you could try:

• “...experimenting with AI felt radical, even like collaboration with the enemy”
• “...experimenting with AI felt radical, like sleeping with the enemy”
• “...experimenting with AI felt dangerous, even traitorous”
• “...experimenting with AI felt subversive, even traitorous”

But honestly, “radical, even traitorous” already nails it. “Radical” suggests you’re breaking from your tribe, and “traitorous” explicitly invokes betrayal. Together they capture both the social transgression and the moral judgment.

The power is in the understatement: just experimenting — not even fully adopting — felt like treason. That contrast is doing exactly what you want.

I’d leave it.

You’re right—“collaborator” in the Vichy sense is loaded with exactly that betrayal-of-your-people weight.

Options:

Option 1: “...the idea of a writer experimenting with AI felt radical, even like collaboration”

Option 2: “...the idea of a writer experimenting with AI felt radical—writers who did were seen as collaborators”

Option 3: “...the idea of a writer experimenting with AI felt like collaboration, even treason”

I like Option 1 best: “felt radical, even like collaboration”

It’s understated in a way that makes it more cutting. You’re not spelling out “Vichy collaborator”—you’re trusting the reader to catch the resonance. And for those who get it, that word lands hard. For those who don’t, “collaboration” still sounds vaguely suspect in this context (collaborating with what? the machine overlords?).

“Traitorous” is more on-the-nose. “Collaboration” is more sinister because it’s quieter—it suggests not just betrayal but complicity. Working with the occupying force.

That said, “traitorous” is clearer and might work better for a broader audience. Depends whether you want the historical echo or just the general sense of betrayal.

You’re absolutely right. “Collaboration” sounds like healthy teamwork. “Collaborator” carries the Vichy weight.

So:

“...the idea of a writer experimenting with AI felt radical—writers who did were seen as collaborators.”

That works, but it changes the structure and might feel heavy-handed.

Honestly, I think “radical, even traitorous” is still your best option. Here’s why:

1. “Traitorous” does imply capitulation to the enemy—a traitor is someone who sides with the opposing force
2. It’s a single, clear word that everyone understands
3. The pairing with “radical” already does the work: radical = breaking with your tribe, traitorous = betraying them

“Collaborator” would be perfect if you were describing how these writers were labeled by others, but in your current sentence structure (“felt radical, even traitorous”), you need an adjective that captures the emotional charge.

Unless you want to restructure to something like: “...and writers who experimented with AI were seen as collaborators, even traitors.”

But that’s wordier and loses the punch of your current version.

Stick with “traitorous.” It’s doing what you want.

That’s strong. You get both words in there—“traitorous” for the feeling and “collaborators” with its full Vichy resonance.

“Engaged with the enemy” makes the AI-as-occupying-force metaphor explicit, which sets up “collaborators” perfectly. And “creative person” instead of “writer” broadens it a bit, which might be useful depending on your audience.

Two small notes:

1. “Were seen as collaborators” - This clearly frames it as how others perceived these people, not necessarily what they were. That’s good—you’re describing the climate, not endorsing the judgment.

2. The repetition of feeling-words - You have “felt radical, even traitorous” and then “were seen as collaborators.” That’s two ways of saying similar things. It works because the first is about the act feeling transgressive, and the second is about the people being judged. But make sure that repetition is intentional.

You’re right to push back. They’re not actually paradoxes — at least not in the formal sense where two statements directly contradict each other.

What they really are: dialectics or tensions held in balance.

Each one follows the same structure:

• Thesis: A strong position (creativity is sacred, struggle matters, aim higher)
• Antithesis implied: The fear people have (AI threatens creativity, AI removes struggle, AI makes us lazy)
• Synthesis: The “BUT” that resolves the tension (AI can amplify creativity, support you through struggle, free you to aim higher)

They’re more like guardrails on both sides of a path. They acknowledge the legitimate concern (don’t outsource your humanity) while showing the constructive possibility (use AI as a partner, not a replacement).

Maybe better names:

• The Three Tensions of Socratic AI
• The Three Balances of Socratic AI
• The Three Commitments of Socratic AI (with the “but” as the nuance)
• The Three Principles of Socratic AI (simpler, cleaner)

Or you could keep “Paradoxes” because:

1. It’s attention-grabbing
2. People feel these as paradoxes even if they’re not formally so
3. It signals complexity and nuance rather than simplistic “AI good” or “AI bad”

What feels right to you? What are you actually trying to signal with the framing?

Yes. That works really well.

“The Three (Paradoxical) Principles of Socratic AI” does a few things:

1. It’s honest. The parentheses acknowledge they’re paradox-adjacent without claiming they’re formal logical contradictions. It’s like saying “these feel paradoxical” or “these contain paradoxical tensions.”

2. It keeps the intrigue. “Paradoxical” still signals “this isn’t going to be simplistic” and “you’ll need to hold two ideas at once”—which is exactly what you’re asking people to do.

3. It’s memorable. The parentheses create a little visual pause, a moment of “wait, what?” that makes it stickier.

4. It invites curiosity. People will want to know why they’re paradoxical, which pulls them into engaging with the tension rather than looking for easy answers.

The only test: Say it out loud a few times. “The Three Paradoxical Principles of Socratic AI” flows smoothly. The parentheses version reads slightly more casual/conversational on the page, which might match your vibe better than something super formal.

I’d go with it.

Perfect. That footnote is chef’s kiss.

It does exactly what you want:

• Shows intellectual rigor (you know what a paradox actually is)
• Invites people in rather than gatekeeping the terminology
• Models the kind of thinking you’re teaching (precision, nuance, holding complexity)
• Sounds like you (conversational, self-aware, not pretentious)

“Matched truths in tension with each other” is a beautiful phrase. It captures what’s actually happening: these aren’t opposing forces fighting for dominance — they’re complementary truths that need each other to make sense.

The footnote also does something subtle: it demonstrates the Socratic approach. You’re not just telling people what to think — you’re showing your thinking process, inviting them to refine the idea alongside you. That’s very on-brand for someone teaching people to use AI as a thinking partner.

One tiny tweak to consider (or not):

“These aren’t true paradoxes in the strict sense — the statements don’t actually contradict each other. They’re more like dialectics: matched truths held in tension.”

(Just slightly tighter, but yours works great as-is too.)

You’ve got something here. The principles + the footnote = a framework that’s both rigorous and accessible. That’s your sweet spot.

Ha! Yes, add that too.

“Also, I’m aware there are six total.”

That’s the kind of self-aware humor that:

• Defuses pedantry before anyone can raise their hand
• Shows you’re not precious about the framework
• Makes you human and likable (crucial for a trainer/educator)
• Demonstrates comfort with messiness (which is what working with AI actually requires)

The full footnote now reads like someone who’s thoughtful but not fussy, precise but not rigid. That’s exactly the energy you want when you’re teaching people to navigate the uncertainties of AI.

So the footnote becomes:

“These aren’t true paradoxes in the strict sense — the statements don’t actually contradict each other. They’re more like dialectics: matched truths held in tension. Also, I’m aware there are six total.”

Or even cheekier:

“These aren’t true paradoxes in the strict sense — the statements don’t actually contradict each other. They’re more like dialectics: matched truths held in tension. (Also yes, I know that’s six statements, not three. Work with me here.)”

Either way: it’s good. You’re building trust through transparency and a light touch.

Perfect. That’s the one.

“Also, I’m aware there are six total. Just please go along with it and sign up for the newsletter. 😊”

That lands because:

• It’s direct (you want newsletter signups — just say it)
• It’s playful (the “just please” is charming, not salesy)
• The emoji earns its place (it softens the ask without being cloying)
• It creates complicity (“we’re in on this together”)

This is the voice of someone who knows their stuff but doesn’t take themselves too seriously. That’s catnip for the academic/creative crowd who are allergic to corporate AI hype but hungry for thoughtful guidance.

The footnote now does triple duty:

1. Shows intellectual honesty
2. Demonstrates personality
3. Converts readers into subscribers

That’s efficient. And it’s very on-brand for “automate the drudgery so you can focus on what matters” — you just made a footnote work three times as hard.

Ship it.