Nobody understands the frantic search for a pen and scrap of paper quite like those of us who write. Whether you’re a poet, an author, or a student – we all experience the priceless feeling of being randomly gifted a tank of inspiration out of nowhere, ideas telepathically floating into your brain from an unknown source.
From there, the scavenger hunt begins. Sometimes it’s followed by the fear of letting the idea slip away before getting it onto paper and doubting whether you articulated it well enough. Other times words seem to fall out of your pen, and it feels as easy and natural as breathing. There’s also the more difficult side of writing, where writing a sentence feels like trying to draw blood from a stone. However, even when your creative mind is on strike, the ravenous need to write always comes back. It might sound very cliché, but regardless of which way it shows up, it’s all down to having a love for words and seeing past the mundane surface of the happenings in your everyday life.
If you are a frequent reader, I’m sure you will have read a novel that has stayed with you long after you finished reading it. Whether it’s fiction or non-fiction does not matter if it is well written. You’ve probably heard it described very generically before as being sucked into the character’s world and experiencing their most personal thoughts and experiences with them. But despite the banality, when you begin to feel delusional for seeing pieces of yourself in them, you cannot deny that all of it is true.
I remember the first time I cried while I read a book. It was a typical weekend evening in my house – I was twelve and curled up under a blanket on the couch opposite the fireplace. I was so engrossed in the story that I didn’t realise that the final page had crept up on me, leaving me with a pile of loose ends and a near-broken heart. Despite my tears, it was the first time I understood bookworms completely and became one myself. Since then, I have read many more books, many of them more beautiful and devastating than children’s fiction. Something written with Artificial Intelligence could never have this kind of effect.
My point is that writing is a craft, and it can only be done well if you have lived and experienced life as a human. There is no use in being able to identify and use literary techniques if you have never inevitably suffered through trials and felt humbled by the goodness on the other side of it all, not to mention the complexities of everything in between – you’d have nothing to say. So why are we allowing computers to imitate the most intricate parts of the human experience? The whole purpose of AI is to give computers the ability to imitate inherent human intelligence, and the scariest aspect of it is its ability to do so. It mimics the creativity, work and even the empathy of a human, yet it’s just data and algorithms hidden behind pixels on a screen.
It has become rampant and sickeningly tempting for many to rely on instead of their own intelligence. As a student, I observe how it has become an artificial solution for many”
On one hand, I must admit that AI can come in handy for some things. It gives great travel itineraries since I can tell it exactly what I’m looking for, which I can’t do with a Google search. It can remove random people and obstructions from the background of my photographs before I print them. It can even help plan my week if I tell it my plans and everything I need to get done.
On the other hand, it has become rampant and sickeningly tempting for many to rely on instead of their own intelligence. As a student, I observe how it has become an artificial solution for many, and it’s seen as a genie who can grant unlimited academic wishes. It’s used as a loophole for poor time management and lack of effort in completing work, and a cure writer’s block. We can ask it to write, reference and edit any kind of work, and all of a sudden, we don’t have to rely on our own capabilities anymore.
Pope Leo gives us much to ponder in Magnifica Humanitas regarding the deeper issues of AI.
Dependence on AI to complete work for us is to neglect our inherent dignity”
He hits the nail on the head by stating that “in the era of artificial intelligence, when human dignity is threatened by new forms of dehumanisation, ours is the pressing duty to remain profoundly human”.
Previous papal encyclicals and Church teachings address the relationship between human creativity and work, and stress how they are part of human dignity since we are created in God’s image. Dependence on AI to complete work for us is to neglect our inherent dignity, hence why it certainly is a form of dehumanisation.
In terms of creativity, regardless of how that may look from person to person, honouring the “duty to remain profoundly human” means to function like one. If talent for writing and creating art of any kind is a gift from God and relies on experience to do well, we should feel defensive when we see AI having the ability to mimic it – not relieved that we don’t need to pour in effort anymore.
There is also a growing concern for the consequences of AI on children. If we can ask it to write emails, solve problems and finish our homework, how will children learn to do it for themselves? I think that one of the most important lessons to learn when you are young is that the most valuable things do not come easy to us. We live in a world where convenience is promised, and AI adds more fuel to the fire.
If we use AI even for ideas for writing, we don’t rely on our ability to form individual thoughts and opinions, which are a defining aspect of how we see the world”
Education, for example, requires hard work. There is no better feeling as a student than the reward of getting a good grade and having your effort and hard work recognised. It is this experience that teaches us that effort has value and keeps us motivated to put effort into everything we create. If we use AI even for ideas for writing, we don’t rely on our ability to form individual thoughts and opinions, which are a defining aspect of how we see the world. It’s like comparing the nutritional value of convenience foods and fresh healthy food you prepare yourself. There’s an obvious winner but choosing it requires more effort.
Writing and creating is nothing less than an expression of what it is to be alive. In an increasingly dystopian world tempted by reliance on machines, perhaps the most radical thing we can do is remain ‘profoundly human’, and trust that the cost of convenience is never worth it.