I Stopped Adding That One Extra Comment

On a previous project, a young engineer once sent me a work request.

It arrived as a Markdown file and had clearly been generated by AI.

That itself was not a problem. I use AI every day, and if it helps the work move forward, I have no objection.

But the contents were a little strange.

Along with the tasks assigned to me, the file clearly included work intended for other people.

As I continued reading, another thought occurred to me.

“Does he actually understand what he is sending?”

The old me would probably have said something.

“This includes requests for other people. Also, you should make sure you understand AI-generated content before sending it.”

This time, I did not.

My reply was roughly as follows:

“I will handle only the requests addressed to me. In the future, please separate requests by recipient. I understand that the files will be provided in Markdown format.”

That was all.

I said nothing about whether he understood the contents.

Just State the Facts

When I thought about it, the facts directly relevant to me were simple.

The request included tasks for people other than me.

So I wanted them separated.

That was all.

On the other hand, thoughts such as these were merely my opinions:

“Is this really an acceptable way to send a request?”

“Did he simply forward the AI’s output without reviewing it?”

I was neither his manager nor responsible for training him. We did not even work for the same company. How well he understood the AI’s output was fundamentally his problem.

In the past, I would have considered it kind to offer one extra piece of advice.

Now, I believe I need a reason before adding that extra comment.

You Do Not Need to Say Everything That Is Correct

At work, what we intend as advice may feel like unwelcome interference to the other person.

Even a question such as “Do you actually understand this?” may be intended as a check, but it can sound like “You have no idea what you are doing.”

This is especially true in remote work, where only the written words remain. There is no facial expression or tone of voice.

In that case, it is better to write only what is necessary to move the work forward.

The request includes other people’s tasks, so please send me only mine.

I will say that.

“Is that really a good way to work?”

I will not say that.

In the past, even people from different companies often sat at neighboring desks and went out for lunch or dinner together.

Relationships developed naturally. With that kind of rapport, a brief piece of advice might be welcome.

Today, remote work sometimes means not even knowing what the other person looks like.

Saying nothing unnecessary can be the best answer.

This Will Probably Happen Even More in the AI Era

As AI becomes part of everyday work, I think situations like this will become increasingly common.

People ask AI to write specifications, compose emails, and organize tasks. Then the output passes from one human to another.

Naturally, the recipient will sometimes wonder:

“Does this person really understand what they sent me?”

But if I start checking the sender’s level of understanding every time, I will only create more work for myself.

If information I need is missing, I ask for it.

If irrelevant information is mixed in, I ask for it to be separated.

If something is wrong, I point it out.

Anything beyond that is the other person’s responsibility.

At work, you do not need to say everything that is correct.

I once believed that adding one extra comment was an act of kindness.

Now I believe that knowing when to swallow that comment is also a professional skill.

The slightly ironic part is that while AI is learning to write more human-sounding prose, conversations between humans at work are becoming increasingly mechanical.

We remove unnecessary emotion, provide only the required facts as input, and return only the required result.

Before long, AI may be the one giving the more human response.