General Statement: AI and Writing

 

The rapid advance and socialization of certain artificial intelligence applications, particularly large-language model (LLM) and generative AI, is a technological shift that has the potential to surpass even the advent of the Internet in its effect on human society and culture. For better or worse, the rise of this technology will radically alter our economy, job structures, and sciences in ways we are only beginning to understand.

 

Some of these transformations can yield immediate benefits, particularly in fields such as medicine and engineering. For other endeavors, the potential benefits might lie further downrange; white-collar jobs are about to face dramatic, devastating disruptions before we see a “new normal” unfold.

 

There is, however, one arena in which I see no benefit from AI, either in the short or long term. The arts—whether they be visual, musical, or written—are under threat from this new technology. We are watching AI degrade the visual arts first, as social media and even previously “traditional” journalists turn out AI-generated slop that passes for art. AI used in this fashion poses a double threat to artists: denying them income and relying on cheap AI programs for visual art projects, while also stealing from those same artists, as AI algorithms scour the Internet, assimilating existing works of art into their databanks to use as the basis for more slop.

 

Creative writing is obviously under attack as well. As with its cousins in the visual arts, good writing was initially immune. Throughout the early 2020s, it was easy to discern writing created by a human vs. words concatenated by language-patterning LLM software. By mid-2025, however, the line had become increasingly out of focus. We are now likely months, not years, away from LLMs so sophisticated that they will be able to generate prose on par with a relatively competent, skilled author.

 

The change in automated writing is concerning. We read fiction not just to be entertained or to be enlightened; we also read for the opportunity to commune with an author, to mingle within another person’s mind and share in their creative product. Fiction produced by a patterning program will soon reach the technical expertise of a good author; however, it will never afford a shared moment of soul. It will never be an honest participant in the comingling of ideas and shared feelings that human communication through words can achieve.

 

As an author, I do not use artificial intelligence in my written work. I do not use it to generate ideas or content. I do not allow a single word chosen by an algorithm into my art. The only software I use in the writing process is a word processor and applications that help me format and check my spelling and basic grammar. I make sure that, even with grammar checks, any improvement suggested by writing software is limited to fundamentals: subject-verb agreement, verb tense issues, and the like. I never allow the software to offer suggestions beyond the “block and tackling” of the most rudimentary grammar.

 

What about the “Em” Dash?

 

Ah, yes, the em dash: the symbol that is alleged to be the tell-tale indicator of AI. Too many dashes? Obviously created by a machine!

 

Nonsense.

 

I use em dashes; in fact, I use a lot of them. I love dashes, and I—unapologetically—use the punctuation throughout my writing. They lend a flow and just the right sense of connection to many of my ideas and narratives. I used them before AI, and I will continue to use them, regardless of how it might appear to others. I won’t let the current wave of AI slop interfere with my style, nor will I allow it to dictate how I punctuate my phrases and put my thoughts to paper.