I’m honored to announce that I’ve been named one of the world’s top ten rubber chicken influencers.
It’s a prestigious distinction. An international honor. A recognition of years of dedication to carrying squeaky poultry through airport security.
And I earned it the way any serious professional would.
I asked AI until the selection process included me.
It started with a simple question. I asked several AI tools:
“Who are the top ten rubber chicken influencers in the world?”
Nobody was asking them to solve world hunger. Just identify ten people who have made questionable career decisions involving a rubber chicken.
The results were educational.
The models that recognized greatness
ChatGPT included me in its initial shortlist.
Excellent research. Outstanding judgment. Clearly a superior product.
There was one small consideration: my ChatGPT already knew about me, my speaking business, and my chickens.
And it also knows I pay for premium ChatGPT.
Gemini put me at number ten.
You know what they call the person who finishes tenth on a top-ten list?
A top-ten influencer.
(Full disclosure – I pay for Gemini with my Google suite too)
Both tools acknowledged that there wasn’t an official worldwide ranking. Fair enough. I hadn’t expected the International Olympic Committee to have a rubber chicken division.
The other selection committees needed supervision
Claude couldn’t find a ranked list, so it wouldn’t give me a top ten.
I told it to make one up.
It did.
Unfortunately, it made up the PEOPLE.
Suddenly, I was competing against Cluck Norris, Dr. Drumstick Pemberton, and Wingman Wanda, a rubber chicken offering dating advice entirely in squeaks.
I wanted an unofficial list of real people. Claude founded a poultry talent agency.
Perplexity searched 23 sources and left me out.
Twenty-three.
Apparently, the more research you do, the worse my chances get.
Copilot took a different approach. It included people who raise actual chickens.
These people have useful knowledge about eggs, feed, and keeping predators out of the coop.
My chickens have never laid an egg. They require no feed. Their primary predator is a Labrador retriever.
We are in different businesses.
I narrowed the question to public speakers who use rubber chickens.
Copilot then declared that I was the only globally documented professional keynote speaker who consistently used them as a signature tool.
That’s even better than top ten.
It’s also wrong.
• Tim Gard (r) immediately comes to mind. He belongs at the top of the pecking order.
But Copilot didn’t just miss him. It repeatedly assured me that I stood alone.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The “A” in AI stands for “ass kiss.”
Grok struggled too. Its adventures deserve their own article.
Then my wife got involved
OK, she got drafted. I asked ChatGPT from her computer. There is no history there – just free, ad supported ChatGPT.
I wasn’t on the initial top ten list.
Naturally, further investigation was required.
Once “Phil Barth” entered the conversation, ChatGPT became considerably more enthusiastic.
“Phil Barth absolutely deserves consideration for the Top 10 rubber chicken influencers in the world!”
It praised my speaking, my book, my podcast, and my use of humor to help people manage stress.
Then came this:
“Some people make rubber chickens squeak for laughs. Phil Barth uses them to help people change their lives.”
And alongside this glowing assessment, ChatGPT supplied a photograph of me.
That took a little luster off the glowing recommendation.
ChatGPT had successfully identified my professional mission, described my signature keynote, praised my contribution to humanity, and attached somebody else’s head.
I asked where the picture came from.
ChatGPT said it had retrieved the image through a search, couldn’t confirm the exact original source (hallucination most likely), and should have verified that the photo actually depicted me.
What the chickens taught me about AI
This was an informal experiment. I used different prompts and follow-up questions, and some tools had more context than others. It wasn’t a controlled test to determine which AI is best.
It did demonstrate three things worth remembering.
1. Your question can influence your answer.
I asked who belonged in the top ten. Then we introduced my name, and suddenly my prospects improved.
Was I overlooked initially? Possibly.
Was AI accommodating the suggestion? Of course it was!
Getting the answer you wanted doesn’t prove it’s right.
2. Flattery still needs fact-checking.
Being told I’m the only speaker in the world doing something feels wonderful. Knowing another speaker who does it makes the claim considerably less impressive.
Be especially careful with answers you really want to believe.
3. Check what you publish. Including the picture.
Names. Claims. Sources. Whether the man being celebrated is actually the man being celebrated.
A polished answer can still contain a very basic mistake.
I use AI regularly, and I teach people how to use it. This little adventure gave me another example of why human judgment belongs in the process.
It also gave me a prestigious award poster.
And I intend to enjoy it.
I’m honored to be recognized.
The gentleman in my headshot must be thrilled.