Last week, I received writing feedback that left me feeling disheartened.
The feedback was for a short story I submitted to an independent literary magazine. To paraphrase, the advice I received was that the work was “unpublishable” due to syntax and formatting errors.
I’m quite aware that my work is far from perfect - the ratio of “declined” to “accepted” tags on my Submittable can attest to that. But grammar errors so bad that my work was unpublishable? That’s a new one.
I was inspired to do something I had previously considered reprehensible.
I ran my work through a free AI model, with the instruction to check the work for grammar errors.
A few seconds later I received a response: “no significant grammar or syntax errors detected.”
The result returned my confidence instantly. The model gave me some suggestions of phrasing that could be improved, but rather sophisticatedly noted that the use of informal grammar and clipped sentences were consistent with the tone of the piece.
As a creative writer, I have skin in the AI game.
Though it seems that AI have not yet mastered the art of phonetics, a critical element in the type of prose I aspire to write, I can only assume that this capability is coming.
These models are not just tools. They will shape us and affect how we live.
Aside from the terrifying political scenarios espoused by many, one of the most significant dangers is that creativity could be automated to the point that it becomes disincentivised in humans. Months and years of work and learning can’t be skipped by flesh and blood brains, but AI can come up with artwork, business plans, screenplays and even short films in an instant. Why put in the effort when an app might replace you in the next month?
We are already seeing deeply concerning trends in young people.
But AI is parasitic. If its supply of human-made inputs degrade, then its outputs too will degrade.
To be clear, most of the time I feel despondent about the AI wave. This is less due to the impressive output of AI and more to do with the consumerist attitudes of humans that seek to exploit these models (and other humans) on the creative front, in business and politics.
In my immediate case, AI facilitated a useful power reversal.
I didn’t spiral into self-doubt at the editor’s feedback. I was steadied by the app’s emotionless support. Though failure and resilience are part of a creative’s journey to success, the odds sometimes seem impossible, and I am happy that AI could help me on this occasion.
Obviously, I am not an advocate for the theft of any artwork, whether visual, in the written word or any other medium, but if AI is going to replace anyone, I think there might be a case for certain gatekeepers.
We urgently need critical discourse on how AI should be used, who should be allowed to profit from its use, and what kind of human roles AI should replace. AI isn’t going anywhere, and creative communities need to come up with plans about how these models can support their work, rather than replace it.
Read more on my Substack.