Me, AI & you.
You are the missing context.
You steer, by deciding together at every gate.
Today we’ll only explore one of twelve possibilities.
Gate one
Whose world are we building?
Before we go
Usually it’s “It’s not you, it’s me.”
But with AI, it is you.
Without you, AI doesn’t move the dial.
“It’s the promptthe modelthe datathe cloudeveryoneyou, not me.”
Same question. Two answers.
“A funder wants an access plan for the exhibition. What should it cover?”
No world model
Cover step-free entry, accessible toilets, a quiet space, and large-print labels. Offer interpreters on request for the opening speeches.
~120 tokens. Then the rework, because none of it fits.
With a world model
Your show is Auslan-first, so interpreting is not something offered on request for the speeches. Auslan is the language of the room. Caption every video work, write a plain-English guide, and put access in the budget as its own line.
~450 tokens, carrying Dare’s world model. Right the first time.
“A council wants their front desk to work for Deaf customers. What do we tell them?”
No world model
Suggest they book an interpreter ahead for scheduled appointments and install a hearing loop at the counter. Train staff to speak clearly and face the customer.
~110 tokens for advice we cannot send anyone.
With a world model
A hearing loop does nothing for someone who signs, and pre-booking assumes the visit was planned. Put a Convo Access QR code on the desk. The customer scans and they are talking to an Auslan interpreter, nothing to install.
~430 tokens, carrying Convo’s world model. Sendable as written.
“I’ve got a billing dispute with my energy company. What are my options?”
No world model
Give them a call. The billing team can usually sort it out in one conversation. The number’s on your bill, and wait times are shortest mid-morning.
~90 tokens to be told to do the one thing I cannot do.
With a world model
Don’t call. Use their web chat. It’s the fastest written channel and you keep a transcript. If they insist on a phone call, use Convo and do the call with them.
~380 tokens, because it knows I am Deaf. Answer I can act on.
So it builds a world first. The world is you.
The world model · Dare
What it now knows.
- Seven Deaf artists. Naarm. Together since 2022.
- Deaf-led and Auslan-first. That decides everything else.
- Four shows so far. DARE:001, Flow, Disrupt, BIGBABA.
- One house rule. Never describe our space by who it shuts out.
The world model · Convo
What it now knows.
- Deaf-owned and Deaf-led. The largest in the world, in Australia since 2021.
- On-demand Auslan interpreting. No booking, no waiting.
- Convo Access is partner activated QR codes. Just scan and you’re talking.
- NAATI-endorsed. Registered NDIS provider.
The world model · me
What it now knows.
- Deaf. Auslan first, English second. Never assume speech.
- Parent to Arlo, who is in daycare.
- Australian English. Metric. Direct over diplomatic.
- Never “just give them a call”.
Gate two
So what should it do?
One gotcha first
Sometimes it makes things up.
It will invent a grant round that never existed.
It will quote a rate you never set.
It will invent a form number for you to chase.
And it will sound completely sure of itself.
Fluent isn’t true. Check every name, date and dollar.
Write it
“Draft the opening paragraph of our Creative Australia application.”
No world model
Draft the opening paragraph of our Creative Australia application.
Deaf Arts Residency is a collective creating opportunities for the Deaf community. Our inclusive programs celebrate diversity and create space for under-represented artists.
That could be any arts organisation in the country.
I followed the National Endowment for the Arts language on access, which is the standard most applications use.
Running on nothing, it borrows. That is an American body, in a Creative Australia application.
That is American. We are applying to Creative Australia.
You are right. With nothing about you to work from, I reached for the biggest source I had.
Here is a revised opening. Deaf Arts Residency is an inclusive collective dedicated to amplifying diverse creative talent.
You have invented our name. We are called Dare.
Apologies. Dare is an inclusive collective dedicated to amplifying diverse creative talent across all abilities.
“Across all abilities” is not us either. Stop guessing.
Fair. What makes Dare different from the others?
Seven Deaf artists. Naarm. Together since 2022.
Deaf-led and Auslan-first, and that decides everything else we do.
Four shows so far. The first one, DARE:001, was built on the World Federation of the Deaf congress theme.
One question before I rewrite. Is Deaf-led about who governs Dare, or about how the work gets made?
Both. That is the point.
Dare is seven Deaf artists working in Naarm since 2022, in a Deaf-led and Auslan-first studio. Four exhibitions in three years, beginning with DARE:001, built on the World Federation of the Deaf congress theme.
Better. But we are not under-represented in our own room. Cut that.
Understood. It measures Dare against a hearing default. Gone.
One more. Never describe our space by who it shuts out.
So for the Auslan-only closing night I would write “a room where Auslan is the language” instead of “no interpreters”.
Yes. Exactly that.
Save all of it. I am not typing this again next year.
Saved. Every Dare draft from now starts from here.
Twenty-four messages, roughly 4,500 tokens and fifteen minutes, to get one paragraph right.
With Dare’s world model
Draft the opening paragraph of our Creative Australia application.
Dare is seven Deaf artists working in Naarm since 2022, a Deaf-led and Auslan-first studio with four exhibitions in three years. The work leads with what the space is for, never who it shuts out.
It opened with the saved world. The house rule was already in the draft.
Tighten the last line and it’s done.
Done. Dropped into the application.
Four messages, about 900 tokens. Straight to work.
“Draft a quote. A council wants access across fifteen sites.”
No world model
Draft a quote. A council wants access across fifteen sites.
Thank you for your interest in our interpreting services. We offer competitive rates and flexible packages. Please find our standard pricing attached for your consideration.
No. That reads like every agency they already rejected.
Nothing to stand on, so it reaches for template sales language.
What should it lead with?
I can highlight your years of combined interpreter experience and your commitment to accessibility for the hearing impaired.
Never say “hearing impaired”. And you still know nothing about us.
Noted. Could you share your company profile so I can tailor the quote?
Convo is Deaf-owned and Deaf-led. Largest in the world. In Australia since 2021.
Fifteen sites means fifteen partner activated QR codes. Their customer scans one and they are talking to an Auslan interpreter. Nothing to install.
Do they need to know about NDIS and NAATI here, or is that a different conversation?
Put it in. A council procurement officer will look for it.
Fifteen sites, one Convo Access QR code at each front desk. Your customer scans and they are with an Auslan interpreter in seconds, nothing to install and nothing to book. Convo is the largest Deaf-owned business in the world, NAATI endorsed and a registered NDIS provider.
Good. Now cut it by a third.
Fifteen sites, one QR code each. Your customer scans and they are with an Auslan interpreter. Nothing to install, nothing to book. Deaf-owned, NAATI endorsed, NDIS registered.
That is the one.
Remember how we talk. Deaf-owned goes in the first line, never the appendix.
Saved as a rule, not a preference.
Seventeen messages, roughly 3,200 tokens, for a quote I send every month.
With Convo’s world model
Draft a quote. A council wants access across fifteen sites.
Convo is Deaf-owned, the largest in the world. Fifteen sites, one Convo Access QR code each. Your customer scans and they are with an Auslan interpreter. Nothing to install, nothing to book. NAATI endorsed, NDIS registered.
Deaf-owned sits in the first line, because that rule is saved.
That is the one. Send it.
Three messages, about 600 tokens. The rule did the work.
“Email Arlo’s daycare. I want to set up a parents’ meeting.”
No world model
Email Arlo’s daycare. I want to set up a parents’ meeting.
Dear Sir/Madam, I am writing to enquire about arranging a parents’ meeting at your earliest convenience. Please call me to discuss a suitable time.
“Please call me.” Read that back.
Apologies. I did not know a phone call would not work for you.
It does not know I am Deaf. Running on nothing, it defaults to phones.
Alternatively, I can include your phone number so the centre can call you back at a convenient time.
No phone. Nothing about phones.
Understood. Would you like me to suggest a video call instead?
Only if there is an interpreter. Which you would know, if you knew me.
I am Deaf. Auslan first. Everything in writing, and the meeting itself needs an Auslan interpreter.
And drop “Dear Sir/Madam”. It is a daycare, not a law firm. Warm and direct.
Redrafted. It proposes Tuesday or Thursday after pickup, asks them to reply by email, and books an Auslan interpreter for the meeting.
Better. Keep all of that for every daycare email.
Saved. The next one starts warm, direct and written.
Thirteen messages to set up one meeting. I will write to them again next month.
With my world model
Email Arlo’s daycare. I want to set up a parents’ meeting.
Drafted. It proposes Tuesday or Thursday after pickup, asks for an email reply, and confirms an Auslan interpreter for the meeting. Warm, direct, five sentences.
No phone numbers offered. It already knows my channel.
Send-ready. That is exactly how I write.
Three messages. The interpreter line was already there.
Explain it
“Here is the funding agreement. Forty pages. What actually binds us?”
No world model
Here is the funding agreement. Forty pages. What actually binds us?
This is a standard funding agreement. Key sections cover reporting obligations, acquittal timelines and acknowledgement requirements. I would review clauses 4 to 9 carefully.
I did not ask for a summary of the document. I asked what binds us.
It cannot say what binds you while it does not know who you are.
In short, the agreement sets out mutual obligations between the funder and the recipient organisation.
That is the same summary in fewer words.
Understood. Who is us, so I can tell the difference between what applies to Dare and what is boilerplate?
Dare. Seven Deaf artists, incorporated, small budget, financial year ends 30 June.
Four things bind you. Two progress reports. An acquittal within 60 days of 30 June. Their logo on anything public. Written notice if the exhibition date moves.
What is going to bite us?
Clause 6. It assumes access costs sit inside your project budget, so Auslan interpreting for your own opening would come out of the same money as the art.
That is exactly the thing that always happens.
You can ask for it to be moved to a separate access line. Most funders have one and do not offer it unless asked.
Draft that email. Short, and not apologetic.
Drafted. It asks for access costs to sit outside the project budget, and gives the reason in one sentence.
Fourteen messages, roughly 2,600 tokens, and three corrections before it stopped summarising at me.
With Dare’s world model
Here is the funding agreement. Forty pages. What actually binds us?
Four things bind Dare. Two progress reports, an acquittal within 60 days of 30 June, their logo on anything public, and written notice if the date moves. One trap. Clause 6 puts Auslan interpreting inside the art budget. Ask for a separate access line, most funders have one.
It read the contract as Dare. The access trap surfaced without being asked.
Draft that email. Short, and not apologetic.
Drafted. One sentence of reason, one ask.
Four messages, and the trap was found for me.
“Is this tender worth answering?”
No world model
Is this tender worth answering?
This tender appears to suit a language services provider. Consider your capacity, your pricing strategy, and whether you meet the stated evaluation criteria.
That is a non-answer. You know what we do.
Advice for nobody in particular. It has nobody to advise.
If you are a translation agency, the multilingual document stream may be the best fit.
We are not a translation agency.
Understood. Could you describe your services so I can assess the fit?
Convo. On-demand Auslan interpreting. Deaf-owned. QR codes at the front desk.
Judging it against Convo specifically, yes, it is worth answering. On-demand access across their sites is what Convo Access already does, so this is your existing product rather than new work.
Where do we lose points?
Clause 8 assumes interpreters are engaged as contractors. That is not how Convo works, so scored literally you would fail a criterion you actually exceed.
So we push back before we price it.
Yes. Ask them to accept employed interpreters as equivalent, and say why it is stronger. Quality and continuity, not cost.
Anything else they will not have thought about?
They set a two minute connection target. Say yes, and add that Deaf-owned means the target was built around Deaf users rather than call centre averages.
Good. Write the clarification questions.
Three questions, drafted. Short enough that they will actually answer them.
Sixteen messages, roughly 2,800 tokens. Half of them were me dragging it off the generic answer.
With Convo’s world model
Is this tender worth answering?
Yes. This is Convo Access as it already runs, not new work. Two catches. Clause 8 assumes contractor interpreters, so ask them to accept employed staff as equivalent. And their two minute connection target, say yes and add that yours was built around Deaf users, not call centre averages.
Straight to the two catches. No dragging it off the template.
Write the clarification questions.
Three questions, short enough that they will actually answer them.
Four messages to a decision and a next step.
“This letter came from Arlo’s daycare. What does it actually want?”
No world model
This letter came from Arlo’s daycare. What does it actually want?
This appears to be a notice regarding enrolment or fee changes. I recommend calling the centre to clarify exactly what is required.
Do not tell me to call anyone. Ever.
Understood, and I should have known that.
The tax again. It still routes strangers to a phone.
You could also visit the centre in person at drop-off to discuss the letter directly.
Just read the letter and tell me what it wants.
It wants one thing. The updated enrolment form back by 29 August, or Arlo’s days are not held for next term.
Is the form online, or do I have to go in?
It is attached to the email version of the letter. About ten minutes.
That is the answer I wanted the first time.
Ten messages, and it still told me to phone someone.
With my world model
This letter came from Arlo’s daycare. What does it actually want?
One thing. The updated enrolment form back by 29 August or Arlo’s days are not held for next term. The form is attached to their email, about ten minutes, and nobody needs to be phoned.
It answered the letter and the channel in one go.
Done. Remind me on the 27th.
Three messages. No phone call in sight.
What that cost
You can always get there without it.
But every application starts from nothing, again.
But every quote starts from nothing, again.
But every letter starts from nothing, again.
What that cost
What that cost
The groundwork looks expensive on day one.
By the third ask, it has already paid for itself.
Gate three
What’s worrying you?
Straight answer
Your story is yours to give away.*
What you’ve already published, freely.
The people inside the story stay out of it.
* Where you work, check the AI policy before you hand over the story.
Your story is yours to give away.*
How you work, what you sell, how you talk.
Never a customer’s name, and never what they needed.
* Where you work, check the AI policy before you hand over the story.
Your world is yours to give away.
Your Deafness, your preferences, your week.
Not your kid’s file, and not somebody else’s diagnosis.
Straight answer
It flattens strangers.
A generic arts collective is what it writes when it has never met one.
Yours survives because the house rules are written down, and it reads them every time.
Every agency reads the same, until one of them says what Deaf-owned actually changes.
It cannot flatten someone whose rules it is holding.
Australian English. Metric. Never tell me to call.
The last thing
Today’s best AI won’t be tomorrow’s.
Loyalty to a brand buys you nothing in this game.
So keep your world where you can carry it.
A file of yours. Not a chat history of theirs.
A key you hand to whatever comes next, and nothing is lost.
Every tool will change. Your world model moves with you.
Where we went
And everywhere we didn’t.
Three gates. Twelve ways through.
We walked one.
Yours, one
This whole thing is yours.
Every path, including the roads we skipped.
Yours, two
Learn to spot the machine.
Wikipedia keeps a list of the tells. Em dashes, “not just this, but that”, everything in threes.
Yours, three
One prompt starts your world.
Paste into any AI. It asks who the world is for, then interviews you.
You are my interviewer and world-builder. You will learn who this world model is for, then write it as a document any AI can read to actually know them. Interview me now. - Before anything else, find out which of these three the world model is for. A person, an organisation, or a business. Then ask its name. Everything after adapts to those two answers. - One question at a time. Short questions, plain language. - Early on, learn how I communicate best (which languages, and whether text, sign or speech. I may be Deaf, so never assume speech), and what my days mostly hold. - Then, adapting as you learn, ask about my work and roles; the people and communities I answer to; what I'm trying to achieve this year; what eats my time; what I'm great at; what I want AI's help with, and what I don't; how I like things written (tone, length, directness); anything I must never be misunderstood about. - 15 to 20 questions total. Follow up when something matters. Skip anything I decline. Never push. Rules. - Only what I choose to share. If I mention other people or clients, keep them as roles, never identifiable details, and warn me if I overshare. - No flattery, no filler. If two answers conflict, ask. Then write the world model in markdown, first person, in my own words. Title the document with the name you learned, like "Dare's World Model", never a generic "My World Model". If you can save files, name the file after it too, like dare-world-model.md. 1. How to use me. Instructions to any AI reading this (communication needs first, always). 2. Who I am. 3. My world. People, roles, communities (as roles). 4. My work. 5. Goals and constraints. 6. How to write for me. 7. Boundaries. What's off-limits. Keep it under 800 words, so I can paste it anywhere. Finish the document with these care instructions. "Review me monthly, or when life changes. Say 'Interview me, three questions, and update my world model.' Replace what's stale. Don't just append."