I recently read a Note on Substack from Linda Caroll where she admitted the rise in AI is making her less interested in finding new writers. And, to be clear, that's less interested in "finding" them; not "having found them."
For me the saddest part of AI existing is that it's made me less interested in exploring to find new writers, new voices. I'm not proud of that, but I recognize it. It makes me sad. Click a new name, it's AI. Click another, it's AI. It's tiring. But when I do find an actual human voice, what a joy.
- Linda Caroll
Read on Substack
I had to think about that.
I reread her Note a few times and then I left a comment asking whether she feels like non-AI voices stand out more now when stumbling upon them. In a matter of minutes she answered, "yes absolutely."
Huh.
I'm not entirely surprised by that, but I'm also seeing lots of folks who can't tell the difference between AI writing and non-AI writing, or who think they can but actually can't. It's often the latter. Researchers found that most people actually can't tell nearly as well as they think they can.
Other commenters replied to weigh in.
Perhaps it's a shared bias of those who subscribe to Linda, but most folks replying to the Note were of a similar sentiment: that feeling bamboozled by AI is an instant turnoff. But that's exactly what I'm finding so interesting as this conversation unfolds. The shared disdain for "AI slop" seems to be far less about the words it uses and far more about feeling like we have to decipher "whodunnit?" At least, that's how I feel. And that sort of begrudging constant-vigilance is what I'm gleaning from Linda's Note, too. So now I'm sitting at my desk, mulling all of this over, while leaning back in my chair.
If more and more people are feeling jaded by the rise in AI popping up in their feeds acting like humans, our quagmire is actually with trust. Or, uh... well, distrust.
Glancing out the window, I'm spinning the ring on my left hand with my thumb and index finger. My wrists are propped along the edge of the desk. Someone replied to my comment thread to point out that, as of now, the suspicion seems much higher in the realm of non-fiction compared to the narrative strength of fiction. They cited the presence of a writer's personality as a way to tell, and I initially agreed. I still do but, now that I'm thinking this over, I actually wonder if it's more about... values.
My eyes flit back to the laptop screen on my desk. The more this all swirls around in my head, the more certain I'm feeling that displaying how we think has become the entry point to our work. Whereas, the work itself used to be what created credibility. That was the trust-builder. Now, perhaps, it isn't AI that's sowing such distrust, en masse... maybe it's those among us trying to pass off AI-generated stuff as their own. But why? To manufacture credibility?
The trees rustle their agreement beyond the window.
As I'm sitting here in my office, watching real people collectively bemoan having to interrogate every single thing they come across as real or fake, I can't help but notice something...
For everyone who shrugs off AI as just another tool, absolutely no one wants to get caught using it for writing.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
350/365
Do you know folks who try to pass off AI generated prose as their own?
Do you know why?
onward.

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