Pre-War Steel and Pre-AI Content

In fields where sensitivity to radiation is essential, not all steel is equally suited to the task. Steel made before nuclear weapons testing began is considered especially valuable for its lack of modern radioactive contamination. These rare supplies, sometimes recovered from sunken ships, are not necessary for standard construction, but they are vital for scientists who need extreme precision in their instruments.

To use Dwight Schrute’s practical thinking: “Whenever I’m about to do something, I think, ‘Would an idiot do that?’ And if they would, I do not do that thing.” For these demanding scientific projects, using ordinary, newer steel would be a mistake. That is why researchers specifically look for these uncontaminated materials.

This idea fits well in today’s digital world. Most internet text today is created in ways that often closely mimic human writing, and for many uses, this is entirely adequate, sometimes even clearer or more efficient than traditional writing. However, in disciplines where every detail truly matters—whether it is law, health, or foundational research—there is an increasing preference for information with clear, human origins.

Michael Scott once put it this way: “Would I rather be feared or loved? Easy. Both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me.” In a similar fashion, content written exclusively by people before this new era may soon be admired for both its trustworthiness and its source, gaining special value among critical readers and decision-makers.

Steel manufactured after the middle of the twentieth century suffices for nearly all building projects, just as current online content continues to meet most needs, regardless of who or what wrote it. Yet, in the rare moments when uniqueness, clear authorship, and unquestionable trust matter, information created solely by people may become even more desirable.

Andy Bernard captured a similar feeling: “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.” The period when digital writing was shaped only by humans might have already ended, and its unique worth may become obvious only after it is gone.

Steel from a past century keeps its strength, but information cannot escape the passing of time. Even the best work from previous eras will slowly lose its relevance as society changes and new discoveries come to light. Pam Beesly summed it up by saying, “There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things. Isn’t that kind of the point?” The significance and usefulness of information are always connected to the moment in which it was created.

Both pure, early steel and writing with clear human roots show that in a world flooded with resources, the history and character of something can give it special meaning. While the value of steel is held in its elemental purity, the usefulness of information depends on its freshness, trustworthiness, and ability to remain relevant.

Michael Scott’s words ring true: “Sometimes I’ll start a sentence and I don’t even know where it’s going. I just hope I find it along the way.” Searching for genuine knowledge created by people is an ongoing process, and often we only realize its true value once it has faded into the past.