When AI language-learning models burst onto the scene in 2022-2023, I had a month or two of panic. What else could you call them but writing machines?
We all watched as writing (or, at least, prose) might have been going the way of everyday math. Something you simply plug into your calculator app to spit out the answers to.
So, as a writer and copywriter, I freaked. Buried my head in the sand.
Then cautiously dipped a toe into AI. Then used AI regularly. Finally, relied on AI too much (in my opinion).
And now, I’m back to writing “by brain” for the most part. I resist the pull of the AI assist unless I’m helplessly stuck articulating an idea, and it’s too small a thing to ask my (human) editor to chime in on.
Maybe you’re with me on this.
But why?
***
The immediate answer might be that we’re now able to tell when something was written by AI (or at least half us of are).
AI writing sounds good and intelligent. But …
Reading it is like seeing perfection in someone, but then because their beauty is so perfect, something snags in your brain — could this kind of tidy beauty be coming by way of surgery or cosmetic injections?
Not that it’s wrong, per se, but now your attention is fragmented; the fourth wall is broken; you’re thinking about the process. It doesn’t scan as organic, and you’re taken out of the moment.
I don’t hate AI or ban its use with writers I collaborate with. There are excellent cases for it (see my interview with Beacon Comms about using AI in mental health content).
But the shine has worn off for me. The pull toward messier human writing (ideas and prose — and, yes, copy) has become downright magnetic.
The deeper answer could be something else…
***
The “get online” necessity of the pandemic cannibalized any shred of my existence that wasn’t already online. Maybe yours, too?
I started ordering groceries through Instacart instead of going to the grocery store or farmer’s market in person. I transitioned from seeing my therapist in her office to seeing her on Zoom. Friendships began to survive on texts and FaceTime calls more than on “hanging out.” I stopped shopping at LA’s vintage stores and switched to perusing Depop. I got an app on my phone to workout rather than going to the gym.
Business-wise, there were no more client meetings in person. Local meetups disappeared and were replaced by global Zoom calls. I left the LA-based business coaching program I was in and joined others that were 100% remote.
And then as the pandemic petered out, I think I just … got accustomed to the convenience of living my life through apps from the comfort of my apartment.
Unlike the start of the pandemic, there was no, “Okay, it’s over; take these two weeks to move back in person!” mandate.
So I didn’t.
***
The big AI entrance of the past few years feels connected to all this. It was the latest iteration of tech subsuming my life. Not only how I interacted with the world but now, in a way, how I expressed myself to the world.
There were instances when I asked AI questions that, once upon a time, I might have instinctually asked friends. Like that trend of asking ChatGPT to tell you something about yourself that you may not be aware of. What a delightfully soul-building question to ask your friends. What a sad feeling it gave me to ask an AI.
(The response I got from typing this prompt into ChatGPT did not bring me to tears the way people were saying it did for them — it read like a magazine horoscope: yes, I could see it being true, but it lacked the specificity and nuance and depth and joy you’d get from a friend who sees you for who you are.)
***
Running a business online and working with clients virtually has pros that I’m not eager to give up anytime soon:
- No need to pay for office space
- Expansion of who I can help — from my city to … the entire English-speaking world
- Collaboration with the best fit for the job vs. whoever is conveniently located
- Ability to travel without havingto pause work (unless I want)
- Being at home with my dog!!
However, I am in a season of re-humanifying my life and business:
- Canceling my non-necessary apps in favor of the in-person version
- Efforting to make business (and non-business) friends who are local
- Hungrily seeking out IRL community in every possible way
- Saying yes, yes, yes to in-person events, even if it means flying across the country to attend and speak at a conference
***
There’s an ache in my heart that tells me my in-person community needs have not yet been fully met. On the worst days, I fantasize about dropping online business altogether and getting a true 9-5. The desire behind this isn’t stability but in-person community, and the strength of it surprises me.
Deep down, I think this need even gave energy to my pivots this year, from generalist website copywriter to a team with a niche.
I dove into an industry niche that I value and that has strong community ties — mental health. Despite how trendy it is to say that “niching down” doesn’t require an industry focus, that piece was vital for me. I wanted the community element that comes from being an industry insider.
And that same want called me to create a company bigger than myself, one with a team of collaborators. Even the work I’ve done in my solo copy business has been centered around partnering with design teams and marketing agencies — something I once chafed at as hindering my independence but now, frankly, I crave!
***
My current online business world still feels too detached. Where you forget about a business acquaintance if they stop posting on Instagram. Where community is so often pay-for-play and remote-first. Where everyone is on a solo-entrepreneur island.
To be seen and known in a smaller circle. To brush actual shoulders with your clients, collaborators, partners. To build a business (and a life!!) that exists in a fixed reality beyond the noisy, lonely halls of social media.
What a dream.
Are you with me?
