In 1965, Paul McCartney played George Martin a new song called “Yesterday” and asked what it needed. Martin heard something McCartney hadn’t: a string quartet, on a Beatles rock record, when nothing like that had been tried before. McCartney resisted. Martin pushed. The result became one of the most recorded songs in history. That’s the story worth remembering as executives rush to put AI in every meeting: the most valuable person in the room isn’t always the one with the most answers. Sometimes it’s the one who hears a possibility no one else can.
Today, I tell people something that sounds almost absurd: the Age of Answers is over. Not because answers no longer matter. Quite the opposite. We have more answers than at any point in human history. Artificial intelligence can write business plans, diagnose diseases, analyze markets, draft legal briefs, build software, and produce strategic recommendations in seconds. What once required teams of highly trained experts is rapidly becoming available to anyone with a laptop.
That’s precisely the point. When answers become abundant, they stop being a competitive advantage. George Martin proved this decades before AI existed. He wasn’t a better songwriter than Lennon or McCartney, nor a better musician than Harrison or Starr. What he brought was a different way of hearing possibility — orchestration, tape experimentation, the willingness to tell four young musicians hard truths about their own material. That is the promise of AI: not a replacement for human creativity, but an amplifier of it, if leaders know how to use it that way.
