As interdisciplinary learners across all academic fields, we are inevitably bound to write. As humans, though, we are also inevitably bound to procrastinate. Even the most meticulous planners among us will, at some point, find ourselves with little time to do much. Enter, AI writers and chatbots.
In an age of instant gratification, of typing a few words into a search bar and receiving thousands if not millions of results in seconds, it makes sense that shortcuts for the sometimes-tedious act of writing would eventually come to be. As learners, too, one of our fundamental goals is to improve at what we do and become better at it. Whether it be to work towards a specific career, out of a desire to change the world in some way, or simply due to personal interest, it is an aim for all of us, in some sense or another. It is understandable that any tool intended to save time on some facet of work or another will be, at the very least, tempting to try.
That said, if I could stop every single one of you from ever using an AI to write for you, I would do so in a heartbeat. Ultimately, they are detrimental to both the originality and integrity of writing, and to our power as learners and teachers.
Even those for whom sitting down to read novels and poetry sounds far more like a chore than an act of enjoyment, writing remains both a vital aspect of originality and a cornerstone of the human experience. Even in times of great strife, people have turned to writing– and, in doing so, have helped us to both document and understand the mistakes and experiences of the past. Every great tragedy, and every great victory, have been marked by the written word– in song, in poetry, and in prose. What marks so much of our understanding of the ancient world? Of the birth of democracy? Of our belief systems? Of the pitfalls and successes of our ancestors? Words– penned at the hands of people, not machines. From sacred texts, to beloved works of fiction and song, to documents and diaries of the governance of the past, words have shaped us, and words have made us. Do we really want to give up that power, that autonomy over our own futures and the futures of everyone after us?
In using AI, perhaps I would form an opinion with some semblance of nuance, but I would not be a better writer for it. I would not be a better learner, and I would not learn to better communicate information. I use myself as an example, but I am not unique. Even for those of you in the hard sciences, those for whom writing is a secondary skill rather than the most fundamental component of your fields, it remains a vital skill. As an English major who writes for pleasure, I aim to be better all the time, and my work is never done. What I do know, though, is how valuable writing is to what we do as learners and as people– it allows us to highlight our own unique voices and understand those of others. I am a better writer by far than I was a month, a year, five, or ten years ago, and the reason for that ultimately comes down to two things: practice and feedback. If I simply researched a topic and threw sources and a stance at someone else and asked them to form a work around it, I would not improve. Writing is communicating, especially in our digital world. Writing helps us conceptualize and visualize in ways that oral tradition does not. It lets us transmit information, especially information not easily absorbed via spoken word, and gives us a unique voice and means of communication that are simply not replicable via artificial intelligence.
All of this said, I am a firm believer that many circumstances demand we work smarter, not harder. If digital planners and Google Calendars are a sin, I can by no means be considered saintly. They are helpful, and they make busy lives easier. I certainly do understand the appeal of AI writers; after all, time is precious, and even poorly-formed works take significant time to construct. They are not, though, worth the detriments they entail. Our autonomy, and our future, depend on our own hands, and we should keep them within our grasp.
Good writing takes time. Good writing takes patience. Good writing takes thought, care, and energy that an AI cannot effectively replicate. Whether you realize it or not, your writing has a voice and a style, and there is a sense of humanity to it that no robot can replace. I put no stake on my own ego in saying that no other writer on the planet would have written this article in the voice and with the words that I am writing it in– and if you had written it, no one else could write it like you. It is your work, shaped by your own unique experiences, education, and values. Why would you want to give that up? •
