I recently overheard a conversation referencing AI document drafting. I wasn’t particularly paying attention, for as a writer, I have an appreciable dislike of the pervasive insertion of AI into every conceivable electronic activity. Not to mention I was one of those hapless authors whose books were used to “train” AI. No permission. No compensation. Just total hock off. Insert angry face emoji. 😡

Being an author of little notoriety is even more the kicker. My voice is a blip against the ever-burgeoning appetite of the AI monster making an ugly attempt to dislodge and/or impersonate humans in countless roles: professionally, personally, and now even medically, including mental health advice. I kid you not, having recently seen a shiny new “option” of speaking to an AI counsellor as a support package for workplaces … 🤢 What could possibly go wrong … 🤦‍♀️

Some people love using AI. Bully for them. And I get it can be useful in certain contexts. For example, an image I’ve used in this post is AI generated. Were AI not being poured on us like itching powder, I may have less discomfort over its use in various applications, especially as a tool. But when copilot appeared on all Microsoft applications I felt compelled to add my disgust to the Microsoft chats flooded with disgruntled users objecting the inability to permanently delete this unwanted “feature” from applications. Instead of fixing this, copilot and other AI bots began popping up increasingly, to the point where I’ve seriously considered the advice of a friend when encountering irreconcilable issues with a PC—throw it out the window!

(Given I’m typing this post, I clearly did not, but I tell you, I’ve been tempted!)

But that’s where that overheard conversation I mentioned above took an interesting turn. As I was about to zone out, one of the participants expressed how much they preferred reading documents self-drafted by the other individual. Why? They had such a lovely way with words. It was a beautiful statement that gave me pause.

That’s when it hit me with the clarity of polished crystal—if we let it, AI can rob us of our voice. You see, the thing AI lacks is … us. Our unique voice. Our undigitalisable thoughts and emotions. Our human irrationality. Our desire to create. Our deep reverence for that which is holy and fully of beauty. Our need to build meaningful relationships. And our need to express what has been deposited in us to the world.

By ceding our communications, investigative ideas and storytelling (and more) to AI, we risk allowing our voices to be stolen by a clever program. And there is not one human, creature or bot in the world that can replace what you and I alone carry and are called to share with those around us, in this exact time and place in which we live.

I can’t tell you how to use AI tools. Maybe it’s been a task saver for you or valuable in ways I can’t imagine. (Online searches, and spellcheck—yeah, yeah, I suppose that can definitely be helpful …) I know some authors who are even experimenting with it for accelerated drafting and other creators who have had great fun with AI-blending of visual art concepts. Whichever way you choose (or not! 😉) to engage with this technology, I hope you never use it as an excuse to relinquish opportunities to raise your voice and release your creative power in this world, in whatever medium that is. How tragic it would be to allow something so precious to be replaced by a tool that’s not even human. Your unique voice is valuable and worth being heard. 💗