As a writer who has worked for many years to become good at what I do, I have to admit to a visceral, knee-jerk response whenever anyone mentions AI writing. The proliferation of news articles and think pieces about ChatGPT, in particular, would have you believe that the robots have already taken over. Why, college professors are discovering to their horror that their students are using the AI to write college papers. The nation’s copywriters, we are told, will soon go the way of horse-and-buggy whip manufacturers. Why, it’s only a matter of time before AI is spewing out complete works of fiction, as even now it is being used to produce “art” (as long as you aren’t particular about the number of fingers your models have).

Except that this is all stupid and it’s not happening. At least not now.

The current generation of AI (at least what’s available to the public) is capable of doing a few things reasonably well. It can sound like it was written by a person instead of a random word generator… as long as that person has a brain injury or is just mildly stupid. It can be used to “respin” content to change the wording in a way that could allow you to use the same previously written blog post for more than one client, I suppose. The last time I tried software meant to do this, a number of years ago, it was absolutely wretched, so today’s AI certainly has set the bar higher.

For producing anything that actually sounds good, however, you still need a human being trained to write. Writing is something anyone can do as long you aren’t particular about the quality of the output. Even machines can spit out words in arrangements that conform to predefined rules of grammar and syntax. But there is no AI right now that can produce text you’ll want to read or that you’ll enjoy reading.

Non-fiction produced by AI is… mediocre. If you’re okay with your writing never surpassing a mild, “That was okay, I guess,” then certainly, you can use it. Just understand that nobody’s going to be impressed. If your writing application can be satisfied with a comfortable, often stilted mediocrity, I guess there’s no issue.

Fiction produced by AI, however, sounds like it was written by someone who was scribbling in a notebook while running up a “down” escalator. Here is a good example. I asked ChatGPT to write me a story about World War 1 trench warfare featuring a Private Jerry O’Connell. Here’s what it crapped out:

Private Jerry O’Connell was just a young man when he was drafted into the army to fight in World War 1. He had always dreamed of being a hero and defending his country, but he never expected the brutal realities of trench warfare.

Jerry was assigned to the front lines, where he spent day and night in a cramped, muddy trench with his fellow soldiers. The constant threat of enemy attacks and gunfire made it almost impossible to get any rest.

One particularly cold and rainy night, Jerry was on watch duty when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the trench. He immediately sounded the alarm and grabbed his rifle, ready to defend his comrades.

As the enemy soldiers came into view, Jerry opened fire, taking out several of them before they could even get close. But there were too many of them, and soon Jerry was overwhelmed.

Just when all hope seemed lost, a group of reinforcements arrived to help drive the enemy back. Jerry and his fellow soldiers were able to hold the line, thanks in large part to Jerry’s bravery and quick thinking.

From that day on, Jerry was hailed as a hero among his comrades. Despite the horrors he had faced, he remained determined to keep fighting for his country until the war was won.

Now, here’s a passage written by an actual human being — me — about exactly the same topic.

O’Connell slumped into the mud, feeling it ooze down his back. His arms were numb. He no longer felt the hilt of the trench knife clenched in his hand; he no longer heard the rattling breaths of the German soldier dying in the muck at his feet. He was home again, in Alyssa’s arms, finally warm and full and safe. No one was trying to kill him. He had no blood on his hands.

“Private,” barked Sergeant Hauser above him. “Are you all well? Private!”

O’Connell looked up, barely recognizing the man. He could not seem to loosen his grip on the trench knife. The blade oozed crimson. In the mud and filth around him, the German’s blood mixed with the muck in the trench. O’Connell no longer cared.

“I… I’ m not injured, Sergeant,” he managed.

The Sergeant considered him, perhaps wondering if Private Jerry O’Connell had finally broken.  With uncharacteristic compassion, he said, “Steady, lad. We’ve beaten the advance. They’ll hail you as a hero, O’Connell.”

O’Connell looked down at his hopelessly jammed rifle. He looked back to the Sergeant, but the man was already moving down the trench, checking on the dead, the dying, and those who remained.

A hero. Jerry O’Connell did not feel like a hero.

He only wanted to go home.

Now, I ask you: Which would you rather read? More importantly, which piece of work represents the level of quality you’d like to have associated with you or your business… and which sounds like something a not-too-bright tween would turn in for a sixth-grade reading assignment?

I realize just how appealing a shortcut AI must seem. Not everyone can write. Not everyone can create art. I know several artists who are appalled at the proliferation of AI picture generators. Honestly, if an AI can squat it out, what you’re holding isn’t “art” at all. But for someone without the talent to create art themselves, the allure of a machine that can do it for them is undeniable. Whether art or writing, whether non-fiction or fiction, AI represents a shortcut of which countless people are desperate to avail themselves. That’s understandable.

The problem, however, is that AI simply isn’t good enough not to sound (or look) stupid and awkward. Even when AI improves to the point that it is no longer stilted or obvious (and we’re rapidly approaching that point), it will never have the passion or the independent judgment of a human being who knows how to create. That’s going to be an insurmountable gap in any attempt to use AI to replace a human being. Simply put, you can’t and you won’t, no matter how good the computing power gets.