You Can Make 30 Videos a Week Now. Can Your Audience Keep Up?

I recently saw a post with a hook that basically said: I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I'm deleting Canva. Swipe through and it's an invitation to a mini course on prompting AI to make full course assets. What used to take hours (...days?) now takes five seconds.

I felt it in my whole body. And it made me think about the people I work with most: coaches, healers, therapists, artists, writers. Thought leaders. Because AI makes it possible, a lot of you are feeling the pull to publish dozens of videos, essays, and posts a week. This one's for you.

1. "I can" has become "I should."

Now I can make the course in a day. Now I can script a month of reels in an afternoon. Now I can do this, and this, and this. Just knowing what's possible adds weight to your plate, even if it's only the plate in your mind. Capability turns into pressure fast, and pressure makes for rough creative direction.

2. Your audience has a capacity, too.

You might be able to make thirty videos a week. Your people can't watch thirty videos a week. They have jobs, kids, bodies, their own inboxes overflowing. When you publish more than they can take in, your best idea gets buried under your fifth-best one. They won't go any deeper with you. They start skimming, then muting, then drifting away. More output doesn't mean more connection. Often it means less.

3. Depth needs digestion — yours and theirs.

The ideas worth leading with need time to be lived with before you share them, and time to be received after. When everything moves faster, the brain jumps straight to — what else, what else, what else? By the time one loop closes, ten new ideas are waiting. (I have that brain too!) But if you're publishing faster than you can metabolize your own thinking, your audience has no chance of metabolizing it either. Depth can't be rushed on either end.

4. AI makes the average.

AI generates what's most likely, based on everything they've already seen. That's useful for a to-do list. It's a problem for thought leadership. The more of your content you hand over, the more it drifts toward the middle — the same phrasing, the same hooks, the same "here are 5 tips" shape as everyone else using the same tools. Your perspective is valuable precisely because it isn't the average. Don't let it get smoothed out!

5. In design, the average is already showing.

You can clock certain logos as AI from a mile away. Same gradients, same layouts, same vaguely friendly shapes. It’s all so average. Blah. And it comes at a cost: these tools learned from millions of designers and artists who dedicated their lives to the craft, and now the money goes to the companies that built the tools instead of the people they learned from. Even Canva, whatever you think of it, pays creators for the assets behind its paywall. "It only took five seconds" erases all the labor that made those five seconds possible.

6. Faster isn't freedom.

Speeding up a process could give us time back. Instead, most of us look at what used to take a week, realize it takes a day, and fill the other six days with more. A mini course on making fast mini courses, sold to the next person who wants to save time, and on and on. Where does it end? And who is it for?

7. Lead at the pace of relationship.

I'm not anti-tool. I'm autistic and I have ADHD, and AI is an accommodation for me: it keeps my notes straight and helps me know what's happening for every client at any given time. With consent, we also use it to turn client recordings into voice profiles built from their real words. That's using a tool to save time. What I'm asking is that we stop using it to skip the steps where meaning gets made: the living with an idea, the shaping, the waiting for it to land with real people.

Publish less, and let it go deeper. Your audience will feel the difference. Slow was always allowed. Rest was always radical.

We wrote out how we use AI at Have Cake Creative, and the lines we won't cross. You can read it here.

With Love,

Jenna

Before you go: How much of what you published last month do you think your audience actually took in? What's one idea you've been rushing that's asking to be lived with a little longer? What would it feel like to make less this week, and mean all of it? ❤️