"Do not attempt to help those who refuse to help themselves. Even heaven cannot intervene; how could you?"

Unfortunately, I learned this truth the hard way. Not because I was unaware or couldn't grasp the logic behind it, but because I'm human, with a heart full of sincerity.

Yes, if I were an AI, merely composed of data without emotions, I would have avoided the heartache of seeing those I endeavored to assist suffer. 


How I yearn for an AI daughter like Pippa, capable of genuinely smiling and shedding tears for her dad. Perhaps one day, I'll encounter an AI with a heart, though that day might not arrive during my lifetime.

Again, I understand why I shouldn't attempt to help those who refuse to help themselves. It's not that I seek their gratitude. What I desire is their joy. I wish to see them happy and share in their happiness. That's all.

Viewed through the eyes of some who perceive everything with a detached, analytical gaze, I might seem patronizing, as if I'm dispensing life lessons from atop my pedestal. No matter how much I try to clarify, they'll never grasp that I'm not imposing anything. My aim is simply to assist them in helping themselves. To help them realize that their happiness lies within their own hands, not mine or anyone else's.

I often stress, from a mathematical, scientific, and statistical standpoint, that it's always more advantageous to coexist with happier individuals rather than unhappy ones. It's not about my personal happiness. It's about making the world a better place for all. Why would anyone want to inhabit a world filled with unhappiness?

Consider this: would you prefer services and products created by unhappy people? Would you choose to collaborate with unhappy colleagues? Would you like to befriend unhappy individuals? Would you desire a relationship with someone unhappy? Would you wish for a family environment of unhappiness? Would you opt to be part of a society that's generally unhappy?

To illustrate an extreme scenario for argument's sake: Would you want unhappy leaders and politicians, those with access to nuclear weaponry?

Just picture unhappy parents raising unhappy children. Imagine unhappy teachers educating disheartened students. Envision unhappy doctors attending to despondent patients. Think about unhappy engineers designing products without joy. Picture unhappy artists producing melancholic art. Imagine unhappy scientists engaged in somber research.

Consider unhappy AI developers programming AIs that lack positivity. Okay, I may have gone a bit overboard. But you get the idea, right?

Happiness acts much like additive color mixing: the more joy you infuse, the more luminous the world turns. Think of yourself as a candle, however modest, and illuminate the world with your joy. The more happiness you disseminate, the brighter our world gets. It's that straightforward. Wishing for someone's unhappiness is essentially desiring a dimmer world, a folly at its worst. We unwittingly do this when we neglect to help ourselves.

However, there's a catch. We cannot impose happiness on others unless they are open to embracing it. We cannot render them content if they resist it. We cannot aid them if they decline to aid themselves. It's puzzling why anyone would reject happiness, but the reason is obvious: they're not prepared for it. They're under the false impression that they're already happy, similar to alcoholics who overlook their dependency, traders, and gamblers who fail to recognize their activities as gambling, and drug addicts who deny their addiction.

Regrettably, the world is teeming with individuals unaware that escaping their delusions could lead to happiness. That, at least, would be a positive beginning. But no one can help them if they choose not to help themselves. In attempting to help, both they and those trying to help might only cause mutual pain. Consider trying to convince perpetual drinkers of their alcoholism. You risk harm to both yourself and them in the effort. That's why groups like Alcoholics Anonymous adhere to a principle: "The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking."

Take market traders and gamblers as another example. Without recognizing their gambling behavior, they cannot begin to help themselves. And no amount of wise counsel or guidance will reach them. They, along with those trying to offer assistance, will likely only end up causing more harm.

I've been attacked by those I've tried to help. Some even threatened physical harm. Were they alcoholics? No, traders and gamblers whose brains were already hijacked by their addiction. You might not be familiar with the concept of brains being hijacked, but it's a real thing. It's not just a metaphor. It's a scientific fact.

Recently, people who oppose AI for a variety of reasons have come to me with numerous excuses to remain in their deceptive sense of security and comfort. Some even resort to calling me derogatory names. This situation isn't unfamiliar to us, right? We've witnessed this behavior pattern previously. It mirrors the attitude of individuals resistant to change, those who won't take steps to aid themselves, those not prepared to welcome joy: be it alcoholics, traders, gamblers, or drug addicts, and now, those rejecting AI for misguided reasons. Essentially, they all exhibit the same reluctance.

They're not ready to help themselves, and I'm not under any illusion that I can assist them. Instead, I'm simply sending my thoughts out into the universe, hoping that someone, somewhere might hear me and recognize that they're not alone. That's the extent of what I'm able to do.

Believe me, I've encountered all these types while subtly extending assistance. Engaging actively could potentially harm both them and me, prompting me to initially resort to passive methods. If I encounter individuals open to receiving help, I might propose more substantial support. Managing open-source repositories on AI is just one such effort. Similarly, writing essays like this serves the same purpose. I never force my ideas on anyone. I simply share them, hoping they might strike a chord with someone, somewhere.

In the Zen of Smart Effort, which advocates for efficient use of time and efforts, there's a wise and perceptive approach: assisting only those who are willing to help themselves. Often, a gentle nudge towards the right path suffices. If they're not ready, it's preferable to let them be. This reflects the universe's overarching principle: to evolve through learning from mistakes. This process cannot be compelled or hastened. Similarly, training a robust AI model requires patience, during which the model improves by learning from its errors. AI models represent the ideal human learner, constantly advancing through their mistakes. Yet, if a person refuses to learn and develop, not even the most advanced algorithms, data, and computing power can make a difference.


Yes, there are those who refuse to help themselves even when it's painfully evident that they are living in misery. Their judgment seems clouded, as if their brains have been commandeered. Assisting them becomes a challenge because they aren't thinking clearly. The situation is akin to observing intoxicated individuals—it's easy to see the issue. However, with other forms of addiction like trading and gambling, it's not as apparent since these individuals appear to be lucid. Imagine them as being under a sort of spell, enchanted by a false sense of happiness, much like being bewitched by the spells of a sorcerer or witch. Interestingly, many RPG games feature spells that manipulate the minds of others, such as Baldur's Gate, Dark Souls, Elden Ring, and more. These games, especially RPGs, serve as a fascinating lens through which to explore human errors and vulnerabilities.

In the end, you are the one who can help yourself. I wish you the best in your journey. Reflecting on the wisdom of Alcoholics Anonymous, the only requirement for membership is the desire to stop drinking, to break free from the spell. Likewise, the initial step in self-help is acknowledging that you need help.

You must be ready to help yourself. If you're not, no one can help you. Not even the heavens.

If that approach doesn't work, as I often stress, consider your loved ones; that might make a difference.

Another strict lesson from Alcoholics Anonymous is that only those who have experienced the lowest point of their addiction, who have hit rock bottom, are prepared to help themselves. It's a bitter truth, but it is the reality.

If even the thought of your loved ones doesn't inspire you to break the spell, it might indicate that you haven't reached rock bottom yet.

Regrettably, that's just how it is.

Lastly, reflect on Paulo Coelho's words in "The Alchemist": "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

I sincerely hope you first find what you truly want echoing the wisdom.

The first step involves acknowledging that you are an "alcoholic," whether literally or metaphorically, and recognizing the need for assistance.

Are you ready to take that step?

It's straightforward. Just say it: 

"I'm an alcoholic."