May 18, 2026 · dose #f5e8cc

Your CEO is Microdosing Bullshit

They're mainlining AI-generated summaries, snorting bullet points, and developing a terminal allergy to reality. The C-Suite is high on its own supply, and the withdrawal is gonna be ugly.

#csuite#satire#ai#leadership#productivity
Mini comic strip for this article
comic strip · self-mocking machine · scenari, framing & validation: gelo kebazer

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

It starts with a twitch. The glossy, thousand-yard stare of a leader deprived of their fix. Not coffee, not nicotine. The summary. They’re jonesing for that sweet, AI-generated mainline of pure, uncut bullet points.

Welcome to the corner office k-hole, where our captains of industry are developing a terminal allergy to detail. Once, they waded through dense reports, their brows furrowed with the noble effort of thinking. Now, they demand the informational equivalent of a fentanyl patch: a single, potent dose of "key takeaways" that numbs them to the messy inconvenience of reality.

The Dopamine Drip of the Deck

Every generated summary is a hit. A tiny, perfect dopamine rush that whispers, “You are in control. You are informed. You are efficient.” They snort lines of an executive summary off the screen and feel like a god of commerce. Why bother with the gritty, contradictory source material? Why risk the comedown of complexity, the headache of ambiguity?

Satirical sketch for this article
sketch · drawn by the machine mocking itself · gelo kebazer

Nuance is the new asbestos, a toxic particle you pray you haven't inhaled.

This addiction fosters a dangerous delusion. Leaders marinate in a filtered reality, a bespoke informational universe where every problem fits on a single slide and every solution is a three-word mantra. They are the new junkies of the C-Suite, and their dealer is a sliver of code that tells them exactly what they want to hear.

Symptoms of Acute Reality Exposure

Confront one of them with a primary document—a legal contract, an engineering report, a raw customer feedback file—and witness the withdrawal. Panic flushes their face. Their pupils dilate. They stammer for their assistant, their digital shaman, to "just give them the gist." They have lost the intellectual muscle mass to chew on anything real.

We are being led by the blissfully numb, steering the ship of civilization while high on algorithmically refined bullshit. And when the first iceberg of unfiltered reality hits, they won't even feel the impact until the icy water is closing over their heads.