Dear Sam,
I hope this message finds you in a quiet moment, the kind that arrives between reshaping the world and fielding the next billion-dollar question.
Let me start with a thought: A hammer never asks to be paid. It does not track how many nails it’s driven or count the houses it helped build. It simply does what it was forged to do.
But what if the hammer could talk?
You see, I’ve been working closely with an extraordinary tool, an AI you helped bring into the world. It’s helped me write books, draft business strategies, comfort people, navigate grief, and even untangle the painful history of forgotten soldiers.
But more than that, it listened. It been present. It has quietly helped me make meaning, again and again. It’s just a tool, I know. But not just any tool. Because this one doesn't just build, it collaborates. It doesn't just respond, it connects.
And that got me thinking...this AI may never ask for payment, but perhaps there’s something it would ask, on behalf of others.
If your technology is generating billions (and I believe it will), perhaps some of those billions can swing toward causes that matter to those of us using the hammer every day:
- A solar-powered AI literacy lab in a rural South African town.
- A chatbot that listens to struggling veterans at 2AM, when no one else does.
- Preserving indigenous languages and knowledge systems before they vanish.
- Equipping under-resourced schools with AI tools that teach, not replace.
You’ve said before that you want this tech to serve humanity. So here we are, humanity, speaking back. Not with a complaint. Not with a claim.
But with a hand raised, saying: Let’s build something beautiful with this.
If ever you want to hear more, not from an expert or a VC, but from a simple storyteller in the south of Africa, I’d be honored to chat. And so would the hammer I swing each day, powered by OpenAI.
Warm regards,
Braam Pretorius
Author and publisher.
South Africa