It's Not Writing, So You Didn't Do It

Producing words using AI and saying that you wrote it is wrong

There was nothing, no human voices anywhere, just thousands of versions of the same cheery demon.–Sam Kriss

Dear George,

You keep asking so I’ll state this plainly. I don’t think you should produce words using the prompted output of large language models (henceforth “AI”) and then tell people that you wrote those words yourself. Let’s prune this peccadillo with garden snips before we all need to march around with a machete.

This is not a PSA about AI abstinence. This is about attribution. Producing words using AI and then presenting the output as if you wrote it yourself is—to be a little old-fashioned about it—morally wrong. Not like murder or physical assault. More like shoplifting or kicking a pigeon. It’s low-life behavior. You shouldn’t do it.

To be particular, there are two things that I take issue with:

1. It’s not writing, so you didn’t do it

2. It’s not you, so I don’t care

It’s not writing, so you didn’t do it

You’ll notice that I keep saying “produce words.” That’s because “produce words” is not the same as writing. I’ll forgive you if you find this philosophically tricky, because writing often begets words. It’s also fuzzy, because when working with AI you do, in fact, do some writing. You start with what’s called a prompt:

Never ever ever inject hard drive dust

The act of writing a prompt is followed by a deluge of words that resembles something human-written, but that output is not your writing. You did not write it. Nor is this process writing. Writing a prompt is not a speech act (for all the Searle-heads reading). You typed in 50 words and got back 1,500 words, mostly without any of the thinking, sweating, and self-doubt that comes with writing. You see the difference, right?

Now, if you want to keep a personal diary using AI (obviously psychotic) go right ahead. That’s not my boeuf. The words I care about are those presented in public for other people to read:

• posts on a web log

• motherflipping substack

• birthday cards

• political manifestos

• your country’s constitutional framework

When you produce writing for public consumption and sign your name to it without disclosing that you used AI to do so, that’s wrong both logically and morally.

Logically, you are doing a truncated version of something—but it’s not the actual thing. You can call it a “shortcut” but AI is a psychedelic wormhole of a shortcut quite unlike anything in history. Driving the marathon route is not the same as running it. Buying a cake is not the same as making a cake. Writing a prompt is not the same as writing a book.

Morally speaking, the problem is obvious. You didn’t do the thing you said you did.

But look, I can’t write it myself

I can already predict a litany of limp-wristed objections, because I spend way too much time on the Internet:

• I can’t write it myself because I have ADHD/Autism/AuDHD/R2D2

• I can’t write it myself because English is my fifth language

• I can’t write it myself because colonialism/capitalism/woke/dragons

• I can’t write it myself because I only have 10 seconds left to live

• I can’t write it myself because I don’t know how to write or learn

• I can’t write it myself because I don’t want to learn

• I can’t write it myself because writing is not automatically easy and I would like it to be and I want the feeling of having written without having to do the work of writing (even though everyone can totally tell that I used AI)

You know what? Fine. Don’t write it yourself. I truly don’t care. Make words with AI and slap it on the Internet. All I ask is that you disclose it. Tell people what you’re doing as if you’re proud of what you’re doing. Sign your produced words accordingly: “Prompted by George with the assistance of AI.”

If you’re not willing to do that, please ask yourself why not. Is it because you want people to think you wrote the thing? And if so, why do you want that? Is it because you want them to think you have interesting thoughts? And do you actually want the interesting thoughts? I can’t answer these questions for you, but they are worth thinking about.

It’s not you, so I don’t care

“How can I tell what I think till I see what I say?” —E.M. Forster

I lied before. When I said “Don’t write it yourself. I truly don’t care,” I do care.

The reason I don’t want you to use AI and present that work as your own is that it makes it less likely that you will choose to undertake the viciously hard process called writing and let people see who you truly are.

We don’t read for the words alone. We read to connect with other people.

“Dear George, happy birthday. I hope you choke on a chicken bone. –Love V.”

This hand-written birthday card is either a death threat or a joke or something vaguely in between. To truly understand it, you need context and, crucially, a sense of who the writer is, how he thinks, and what his intentions are. The use of AI to produce words by the pound exacerbates the fallacy that writing is all about words, and misses the point that writing is all about you.

Beginner writers plead to the ghost of Joan Didion: “If only I had the right words.” It’s like a painter saying, “If only I had the right brushstrokes.” Sure, technique is important, but a painting is more than pigments arranged just so. What makes an artist is her eye as much as her hand. What makes her work meaningful is not just what it depicts but how it depicts it, and that depends on who she is.

Here is a poem set to music (a song) written by The Beatles:

Half of what I say is meaningless

But I say it just to reach you, Julia

Julia, Julia

Ocean child calls me

So I sing a song of love, Julia

Julia, seashell eyes

Windy smile calls me

So I sing a song of love, Julia

The words convey that it’s a love song. AI could probably produce those words. But how does the meaning of this song change if I told you that it was about John Lennon’s mother? What if I told you it was about his then-new love interest Yoko Ono? What if I told you it was actually, weirdly about both?

Writing was never about words. Writing is the (mind-blowing) technology that allows telepathy via symbols. It connects my mind with yours in silence across any distance. I don’t even have to be in the same room. Words let you feel my thoughts mixing with yours, in your head.

I don’t want to read your AI-produced words because it’s not you. I want to know and feel what you actually think, even if you don’t yet have the right words. You’ll get there I promise. But I know I can’t get that from your AI-produced words because everyone has access to that same random number generator. It’s not just you, and it’s just not you.

But forget about my selfish needs. How will you ever know what you think, unless you try to say it? Writing is a way of actually developing the thoughts you want to share. This essay itself took many turns and twists before it landed here. It’s not perfect. It will never be. Another word for essay is attempt, and when you sign your name to something, what you are really saying is: I gave it my best shot.

Love,
-V