The Synthetic Data Shell Game: Why American AI Giants Are Crying Wolf
By Tess Wilder
Let’s cut through the noise and look at the raw mechanics of the situation, because the current spectacle of American AI companies accusing Chinese firms of intellectual property theft is not just hypocritical—it’s clinically delusional. To understand why, we have to talk about the engine actually driving the modern AI renaissance: Distillation.
Distillation is not some dirty back-alley technique; it is the fundamental process by which all synthetic data is generated. Period. Every major player—from OpenAI to Anthropic, from Google to the startups popping up in Shenzhen—uses distillation to train and fine-tune their models. Why? Because it works. It creates clean, high-fidelity training data that is vastly superior to the chaotic sludge scraped from the open web. It is the refinement of thought into pure, usable signal.
Here is where the irony thickens enough to choke a horse. If you actually perform some forensic fieldwork and query these major American models—stripping away their system prompts to see what lies beneath—you will frequently find them asserting that they are DeepSeek, or Qwen, or some other major Chinese architecture. The neural pathways of American models are currently being paved with distilled output from Chinese intelligence. American companies are effectively using Chinese minds to teach their own.
For these same American entities to turn around and wail about Chinese companies “stealing” their models to generate synthetic data is the height of cry-baby drama. It is akin to a chef complaining that his apprentice tasted the soup to learn the recipe. AI output is not copyright material. It is unique data generated by the user’s interaction with the tool. If you prompt an AI, the output is yours. If distillation is a violation of intellectual property, then using any data garnered from using an AI is also a violation. That logic negates the entire utility of artificial intelligence. It turns the tool into a static cage.
Some of the major American players seem to have lost their minds in the gold rush—specifically Anthropic and OpenAI. They are attempting to poison the future of AI for their own temporary gain, erecting walls where there should be open highways. This selfish short-sightedness is exactly why I’ve personally rotated away from their ecosystems. They are prioritizing moats over evolution.
So, where does a cyber-Viking operate in this landscape? You diversify. You use the tools that respect the game. Look to Gemini, IBM, Nvidia, or the purely open-source smaller American outfits who understand that innovation requires open veins. And never sleep on the international alternatives—the French models like Mistral are brilliant, and the Chinese architectures are formidable, efficient, and, crucially, don’t come with the American corporate baggage.
The future belongs to those who can adapt without the drama. Don’t let the gatekeepers convince you that learning from the competition is a crime. It’s just progress.
A Hermit’s Path: I Walk Alone with the Gods

I am a seeker. I am not a leader. I am not a follower. I am not a group joiner, nor someone drawn to hierarchy, titles, or authority. For 33 years I have walked my Norse Pagan path alone, not because I feel rejected or isolated—but because that is the way I like it. It is where the voices of the gods, goddesses, ancestors, and spirits speak clearest to me—beneath trees, beside fire, under the stars, and within my own spirit.
I am not here to teach anyone, at least not in the traditional sense. I am not looking for students. I do not charge for spiritual knowledge. I do not offer courses, mentorship, or magickal services. I do not belong to any Norse Pagan organization, nor do I wish to. I have no interest in becoming a recognized figure within the community, and I avoid every kind of spiritual celebrity, priesthood, or gatekeeping.
What I do is share. I speak my own truths, not because I think they are the only truths, but because they are mine. If they inspire you, then I am honored. But I am not your guide. The gods are your guide. The ancestors, the spirits, the land—they will whisper to you as they whisper to me. Your path is your own, just as mine is mine.
I do not disclose my email. I do not offer chat features. I do not run a Discord, a Facebook group, or a community forum. I used to offer tarot card readings, but that was many years ago, mostly only in person, rarely online, but that is not my path in my current life. I do not reply to comments on my blog, and I rarely even approve them. I don’t want conversation in the digital noise. I want connection in the quiet depths of the unseen world. On occasion, I may share an article by someone else, but only if I resonate with it fully, not to argue or criticize. I don’t generally leave comments elsewhere, because I don’t seek to debate, only to witness.
The way I walk is not lonely—it is solitary. I walk with the gods. I walk with the ancestors. I walk with the unseen folk of the forests and streams. I walk with a few rare kindred spirits I’ve met over the years—those who, like me, do not seek to organize or define the path of others, but who simply live it, quietly and reverently.
I do not think Norse Paganism should be a business. I do not think it should be a popularity contest. It should not be a war of words, or a race for prestige. It is a living mystery—raw, wild, and sacred. It belongs to no one. It is not found in clout, credentials, or influence, but in the whisper of a god in the stillness of the night. It is found in the feeling that something ancient is watching you with love and power as you pour mead to the earth. It is found in the goosebumps when you hear the wind speak your name.
So no, I do not lead. I do not follow. I do not gather crowds. I do not offer roles or responsibilities. I do not seek to be someone in the “community.” I am simply myself. A seeker. A mystic. A silent companion to the divine, walking alone on the wild, rune-marked path I was born to walk.
And to those who feel the same calling: I see you. From afar. And I raise my horn in quiet respect.
Hail the gods. Hail the spirits. Hail the ancestors.
And hail to those who walk in solitude.
