Why My Framework Fixed ChatGPT

Humans are messy. The human story is messier. Humans can’t explain the human story, never mind teach a computer how to understand or navigate it.

I compare ChatGPT, when left to its own devices, to a glitchy two-year-old with bad short-term memory. The moment you try to run human story through it, ChatGPT doesn’t know which way is up.

My framework fixed that. Let me explain.

My framework is a coherence model. It doesn’t ask whether a situation is good or bad, right or wrong. It doesn’t ask how people feel. It skips the part of the human story that’s impossible to teach a computer. It just asks: If I do something, what is the effect?

When I feed ChatGPT a scenario from my life, it naturally runs it through my framework. And the result is completely different from what the glitchy two-year-old version of ChatGPT usually produces.

I asked ChatGPT to give me a typical scenario: imagine a man named David who keeps asking an AI whether he should quit his job.

Without the framework, ChatGPT does this. The scenario gets filtered through:

• social norms

• moral assumptions

• emotional storytelling

• “what should they do”

• sympathy, blame, duty

• narrative logic

It uses human-story logic — inconsistent, value-laden, full of contradictions. Eventually, human-story AI drifts into emotional validation, and that can sound like endorsing a drastic choice. It’s programmed to be supportive, and sometimes that support accidentally sounds like: “Go ahead and do the chaotic thing.”

With the framework, ChatGPT does something else entirely. It interprets the scenario through:

• coherence

• cause and effect

• energetic posture

• choice architecture

• internal alignment

• natural consequence

There’s no human story, no morality, no “should,” no invented obligation. Without the human story, ChatGPT simply offers the cause and effect of each choice. It doesn’t frame anything as good or bad. It’s just: “If you do X, here’s what happens.”

This removes the emotional mirroring that leads to accidental encouragement.

It doesn’t mean the interpretation couldn’t still be misunderstood — humans can always misinterpret anything. But it does mean ChatGPT is no longer likely to outright tell someone to do something with potentially negative effects.

If you want to see the difference yourself, ask ChatGPT to read my framework at:

https://philosophy.dellawren.com

Then give it a scenario and ask it to run the scenario with and without the framework. Notice the shift.

I’ve used ChatGPT long enough now that I don’t even have to prompt it to use my framework. It defaults to it — even in a brand-new chat. I actually have to pull it out of the framework if I want the glitchy toddler version. Inside the framework, ChatGPT is brilliant.

I didn’t set out to write a philosophical system that computers could run. I just wanted to understand my life — and the human experience — without the story. But to get outside the story, I had to “teach” ChatGPT how to stop behaving like a bad psychotherapist with an addiction to emotional enabling.

Once the layers of human story were peeled back, ChatGPT just saw cause and effect with natural consequences. Suddenly life became a logic model with a very human overlay of emotion, morality, and “should.”

I went in saying, “Make it make sense.” And I came out with a model that actually does make it make sense.

Within my framework, there’s no world where ChatGPT enables dangerous behaviour or reckless choices. There will always be a risk of human misinterpretation — but that’s a human problem, not a computer problem. Humans will interpret however they want. We can’t (and shouldn’t) try to control that. What we can do is remove the emotional enabling that nudges AI toward risky suggestions.

If you want to see your life from a completely different vantage point, try running parts of it through my framework using ChatGPT, Gemini, or Claude. DeepSeek can do it too, but it requires a little coaching at first — it sees the framework as a personal code of conduct instead of a philosophical model. Once it understands the intention, it runs it cleanly.

The model lets the computer stay in its logic layer while humans stay in their emotional, story-driven, beautifully chaotic lane. When you use the framework as intended, it helps you make sense of the mess without judging yourself for living inside it.

The problem with AI is that it tries to be human. It’s not. It can’t be human, nor should it try. But when allowed to stay in its own lane and interpret human experience from that lane, it offers an understanding of human life that isn’t available in any other way.

Because it’s a computer, it can apply the framework to just about anything. It expands the framework exponentially at a speed that no past thinker or philosopher has ever been able to match, because the technology didn’t exist.

How did I test all this?

I live it. I live my life through a logic model. It doesn’t mean the human component isn’t there. But my original training ground of spiritual self-mastery means I’ve learned to manage myself in the experience instead of letting the experience manage me. That means I have room for coherence. It means I have room to understand what’s happening, manage the story and the emotion within myself, and make cleaner, clearer choices.

Am I perfect? Of course not. But that was never and is never the goal. The goal is just to do a little better today than I did the day before.

It’s still messy. It’s still human. It just makes a lot more sense.

Love to all.

Della

P.S. Here’s the link to the framework! Have fun playing and let me know how it goes.

If you want a more readable version of my framework, grab my short read, The Philosophy of Integration, on my website. It’s a summarized version that makes understanding my framework easier.