Why ChatGPT Can’t Picture a Full Glass of Wine and Why I Think Humans Aren’t That Different

Turns out it’s not just the algorithm, we struggle to see a full glass when it doesn’t match the one we imagined.

Apparently, ChatGPT can’t generate an image of a wine glass filled to the brim.

Not because it’s withholding. It simply hasn’t seen one. Every wine glass image in its training data was filled to the halfway mark. So when you ask it for a full glass, it gives you what it knows, a neat little half-pour, every time.

I haven’t stopped thinking about that because I’ve done the exact same thing. In different parts of my life.

For months, I was job hunting with an image in my head so sharp it could cut glass. A job in Dubai. A work wardrobe with actual work outfits (It’s a big deal for someone who has worked from home all her career). A commute, a desk, a badge, maybe even an after-work mojito if I got lucky.

This image wasn’t aspirational, it was survival. I had moved countries, pivoted sectors, and walked away from the job I loved most. I needed something to hold onto. So I imagined this future job like a lifeline, down to what I'd wear on a Monday. Weirdly, job hunting was devastating, especially the number of times recruiters looked me in the eye and said, “You’re in. You can join on Monday,” only to ghost me right after.

Every day during that 4-month hunt, I’d wake up to at least one rejection email. They said volume negates luck, so I applied to 10 companies a day, but it’s also brutal. There were days I genuinely thought, “What if I’m not good at what I do? What if I just got lucky before?” That’s how deep the rejections cut.

Eventually, a consultancy project I’d started grew into a full-time role. No application. No interview. Just the right people saying, “Let’s keep working together.”

I said yes immediately.

But here’s the strange part: I didn’t celebrate. I wasn’t elated. I felt flat. Because this job didn’t look like the one I had spent months fantasizing about. It was remote. It wasn’t based in Dubai offices. There were no outfits or office badges. It was, by all accounts, everything I wanted just dressed differently.

And I didn’t know how to feel about it.

It was like my brain couldn’t recognize a full glass if it wasn’t poured the way I’d pictured.

That’s the thing about mental images. We don’t always create them from scratch. Most of us walk around with success templates, hand-me-downs from culture, media, friends, family, that one Instagram influencer with the most aesthetic apartment and protein sponsorship.

Mine was clear: job → salary → house → maybe afford a kid in this city someday. I never stopped to ask: Is this my map? Or did I just download it from somewhere and start walking?

This rigidity isn’t limited to work.

Last July, I went sober. A slight dramatic breakdown. Just a slow realization that the thing I once loved, my beers on a hot day, the cocktails I chased across cities, had started to drain more than it gave. I missed workouts, felt wrecked the next day, and slowly noticed that even my favorite drinks came with a hangover I couldn’t afford anymore.

So I quit.

And the wildest part? I barely missed it. Something I’d built entire memories around just faded. I thought that would shake my sense of identity. Instead, it clarified it. Maybe the glass wasn’t full of what I thought I wanted, and Yay to me for being sober 365 days!

Even now, I find it hard to pivot when reality hands me something that doesn't match the image I trained on.

A remote job? It doesn’t feel like I’m “making it in Dubai” the way I pictured.
A weekday swim at 2 PM? I used to think that was only for freelancers or housewives. Now I am the person in the pool, wondering how I got access to this strange new club.
A quiet evening without alcohol? I thought I’d miss the buzz, but I like the stillness more.

Each of these shifts brought joy. But only after I stopped judging them against what I thought they should look like. It’s not just stubbornness.

Psychologists call it Cognitive inertia refers to the tendency of the mind to resist change and cling to established beliefs or patterns of thinking, even when presented with new information or evidence that contradicts those beliefs.

Once we build a mental model, a vision of success, a career path, a life plan, our brains resist altering it. We’re not just attached to the outcome. We’re attached to the image of it. That’s why it’s disorienting when reality hands you a “yes” in a costume you didn’t script. The story doesn’t match the storyboard. And we panic.

But the issue isn’t the pivot. It’s the picture.

We’re not ChatGPT. We don’t have to stick to what we’ve been shown. But we do have to recognize when the image in our head is just a rough sketch, not gospel. I’m still learning how to do that. Still learning how to spot a full glass, even when it comes with no office, no badge, no buzz.
Still updating the dataset.

I don’t have a perfect reframe yet. But I know this: I’m done judging good things just because they don’t look like the plan

Trying to pivot better,
Niharika Anjan