A candid conversation between Andrew Conru and the Seattle Prize art fellows on AI, rehumanism, the future of art, and what it means to be human.
Recorded over dinner at the Occidental Fine Arts Center with the 2025–26 Seattle Prize fellows. Andrew had just completed a 31-day AI coding sprint rebuilding FriendFinder. The conversation ranges from the terror and excitement of AI, to why painting from life matters more than ever, to the announcement of a second fellowship year.
"We have to be fully human because it's going to be so challenging to see our value when AI does it better."— Andrew Conru, to the fellows
Four clips that capture the essence of the evening
The centerpiece of the AI coding sprint. Andrew describes building 500K+ lines of code in 31 days with 20 simultaneous AI agents, the "soul document" concept, working 11 hours a day, and the moment it scared him as much as discovering the internet in 1993.
"I have about 20 of them going, and they all have access to my code and my life story and my goals. And I create something called a soul document — a big long file that has everything about me and my values and what I'm reaching for. And I say, 'All you agents, read that file and let's go rock.' Once I fired this thing up, it scared me almost as much as when I first did the internet in 1993. I did over 500,000 lines of code in the last 31 days. I told the CEO, 'The eagle has landed' — I've rewritten the entire code base."
Short social cut. The visceral comparison between discovering the internet in 1993 and the AI moment now. Perfect Instagram reel or X/Twitter clip — punchy, under a minute.
"Once I fired this thing up, it scared me almost as much as when I first did the internet in 1993. I could sit on my computer and something appears on my screen from China. I caused a computer in China to spin around and my mind was blown."
The vulnerable moment where Andrew asks AI "Am I going to be able to help you create the best site?" and confronts the answer honestly. Shows a founder admitting the tool might be smarter than him.
"I asked AI, 'You know everything about me — my background, my design abilities. Am I going to be able to help you create the best site for our users?' I said, 'Be honest.' And he's absolutely correct — while AI can create the best version, I know that people out there, each one's going to get individualized."
Andrew listens to the fellows' observations about isolation, loneliness, and disconnection — then explains the pivot to platonic friendships. "It's going to be a platonic site — when you want to find a friend." Bridges the art world to the tech world through shared human need.
"One thing I was really listening to when you guys came in is your pain points. You said isolation, loneliness, disconnection, people not trusting things. So much virtual life where you have virtual friends and likes — it's not real. Really is when you're in person. So platonic, friendships and all that."
Short, powerful statement directly to the fellows: "You guys are ambassadors to a type of art that is human and connected to real souls." The emotional payoff of why the fellowship exists. Hero video material.
"That's one of the reasons why I got you guys — because you guys are ambassadors to a type of art that is human and connected to real souls. And that's why I'm so excited to be a part of the next year."
The defining exchange. Nick asks "What does rehumanism mean in the context of AI?" Andrew answers: "We have to be fully human because it's going to be so challenging to see our value when AI does it better." The philosophical anchor for the conference and any rehumanism content.
Nick: "That feeling of just the abyss that AI is bringing — how does that relate to the idea of rehumanism? What does rehumanism mean, especially in that context?"
Andrew: "We have to be fully human because it's going to be so challenging to see our value when AI does it better. It's like if you're a great chess player, then all of a sudden the AI just got better."
Friends ask what their kids should study. Andrew: "Learn something worth remembering." Punchy, quotable — works as standalone social clip or quote card for atelier/education content.
"I have friends who think I'm an authority on what their kids should study. And I feel so sad for them because I honestly say — socializing, having fun, or learn something just because it's interesting. A friend told me when I started painting: 'Andrew, learn something worth remembering.'"
Full explanation of the new Robot Art concept: commissioning world-class artists to paint AI-generated images for $20–30K each. The old project was humans programming robots to paint. The new one: AI crystallizes centuries of artistic wisdom into images, and humans paint them. Announcement video for robotart.org.
"Through the collective wisdom of artists from all centuries and times, crystallized into AI, it generates these images. It is the soul of all those artists together. Boom — it's an image that I find valuable because I find humanity in it. I don't have the time to paint them. So I'm going to put four images up and figure out the right price for whoever paints them."
"You guys are the living proof that AI will never take your job — all your jobs are communicating humanity onto canvas." Then the Cambrian explosion analogy: when photography arrived, art didn't die — it exploded. Reassuring, optimistic.
"You guys are the living proof that AI will never take your job, because all your jobs here are communicating their humanity onto canvas. AI is a completely different thing. It's almost like the photograph — the photograph never took away art. In fact, it exploded. When the photograph came, people said 'we don't need portrait artists,' and then they went into modern art."
Andrew's clearest philosophical statement: our organic nature, finite lifespan, pain and joy — "all the things that AI will never feel because we're organic and our finite lifespan is the thing that makes us so precious." The definition clip for any rehumanism context.
"AI and tech — the things we've built as a machine of society — that's what gets us away from our organic past. So we focus on: what does it mean to have our own pain or joy or challenge? All those things are what AI will never feel. Because we're organic. And our finite lifespan is the thing that makes us so precious — to value our time, because it's finite."
A tense, thoughtful exchange about whether the fellows should paint about war — October 7th, Ukraine, drone cameras. Andrew pushes: "Can we have a voice through this work?" A fellow pushes back thoughtfully. Shows the creative tension and ambition of the fellowship.
Andrew: "What if you replace that person with a young girl related to October 7th? Those are the type of things I want us to consider — can we have a voice through this work?"
Fellow: "I thought it could be fascinating — war, the greed of rulers. But October 7th as an event turned to hate and judgment. As a concept show, though — absolutely."
The big announcement: Andrew offers all fellows a second year. Troy asks if the fellows will help select the next cohort — yes. Troy pushes for better content capture: "Let's have Chuck here, everybody mic'd up." The fellowship growing into an institution.
Troy: "Two big takeaways. One — did you just offer everybody a second year? And two — are you asking the artists to help in the selection process?"
Andrew: "I did. I would hope you guys would want to give an honest assessment, because we want the next group to have the best year."
Troy: "If that happens, let's set it up so I can capture it — everybody mic'd up, chatting about it. That would be important."
Raw memoir material. Andrew describes selling FriendFinder, being burned out and clinically depressed, and the strange realization: "I was unemployable the next day because I had too much money." The identity crisis that led to painting. Essential for the book and documentary.
"When I sold the company, I was burnt out, stressed, and I didn't know I was clinically depressed. The next day — just like if you're at Oracle and you get that email — all of a sudden you're unemployable. I was unemployable because I had too much money. The thing I really liked was connecting people. And I just watched the others do nothing. Until I started painting."
Nick's extended monologue making the optimistic case for humanity post-AI. Charts GDP over history. Farming was replaced but we're better off. We're moving toward an "economy of creative people." "People will always watch human football... people are going to want a handmade chair." The most articulate hope in the entire dinner.
"If you look at human history — chart GDP, any metric for affluence over time — despite plagues and wars, it's on the rise. There's going to be short-term pain, but if we move toward an economy where people can actually do what they want for work... People will always watch human football because we're tied to our bodies, our mortality, the struggle. People will be interested in human art. People will want a handmade chair. These things are going to come back in style."
Nick's conversion story: arrived at the fellowship painting from photos, discovered painting from life through the program. "There is nothing that beats the richness of that experience. I'm living my real life and being a person in the world. That's rehumanist to me." Perfect atelier/education content.
"When I arrived for the Seattle Prize — paint from photo all day long. But after being around Daniel and painting Michaela playing violin, there is nothing that beats the richness of that experience and the memory. You can even smell and feel it. That's rehumanist to me. Working from life forces you to be selective — you have to go after the most poignant aspect. It focuses the mind."
"I can look up the Mona Lisa on my phone, but that's not the same as booking a ticket, getting dressed, seeing the brush strokes. Where can my body, the blood pumping through my heart, be in space and time — taking in experience." The case for in-person exhibition. Perfect for salon and gallery promo.
"I can look up any painting on my phone. I can look at the Mona Lisa right now. But that is not the same thing as booking a ticket, waking up, getting dressed, seeing that thing, looking at the brush strokes. The more we get to this digital age — I am all about: where can my body, the blood pumping through my heart, be in space and time that I am taking in experience."
"I'm not taking another dollar of profit ever from my company again." The enough principle: successful people who decide they don't need more. Andrew is excited to use AI to build a machine that provides human connection as a service. The ethical core of the FFN relaunch and the climax of the book.
"I'm not taking another dollar of profit ever from my company again. They have this thing called the enough principle — people who are successful enough that they don't need more. And I'm so excited that I'm going to take this AI tool and make a machine that provides a service of human connection."
Andrew's vision: "A combination of YouTube, Match.com, Facebook — without any advertising" at $5/month. Contrasts with Match Group making a billion in profit. Then the self-aware origin story: "I created the first online shopping cart, the first scripting language for websites... here I am again." Funny, honest, visionary.
"We have full Zoom capabilities, video chat, friend groups. It's basically YouTube, Match.com, Facebook — without any advertising. Five bucks a month. Match Group makes a billion a year in profit. They'll keep their monopoly. But we're going to do what we did before — when I started the first dating site, it was free. I created the first online shopping cart, the first scripting language for websites. Here I am again."