Words matter. But the writers of those words also matter.
So, I have a few choice words as a nationally award-winning writer to ChatGPT. You had better watch your back if you actually had a back or a spine or a metaphorical spine because this master’s degree educated, oxford comma debating, spin a metaphor better than a young Russian figure skater on illegal doping drugs, print thesaurus using, Wordle expert because Y can be a vowel, gold star penmanship earning, iambic pentameter dominatrix will let you know in no uncertain terms, and without an emoji – YOU WILL NEVER REPLACE ME.
And for those of us of a certain generation who had to educate our parents, the use of all caps means that, YES, I am yelling at you. To bring readers up to speed, ChatGPT is an artificial intelligence language model from Open AI, which has been making headlines for its ability to write everything from blog posts to poetry to novels. (Cue HAL 9000 saying I told you so from space.)
Look, there have been times that I have been grateful for technology like spell check because God knows even the French don’t know how to spell hors d’oeuvres. And for some strange reason (I say with a dramatic hand gesture and head tilt) I cannot spell commitment. But ChatGPT can you even understand the satirical intent of parentheses or the correct use a semicolon? Or do you think that is about cancer screening instead of pauses between two independent clauses. Would Emily Dickinson’s “Hope is the thing with feathers,” only resonate with you as an Amazon pillow ad?
Can you grasp, Chatty, if I may call you that, the subtle difference between cry, weep, sob, or my waterproof mascara is cascading down my face in a way even insulting to raccoons? Will you fall back on cliché and misinformation and bias which populate the internet, aka your artificial soul? Do you know how to accurately describe the challenge of slipping out of a pair of Spanx without your date noticing as you get hot and heavy on a futon? The horror when you don’t have your glasses in the shower to mistake hair remover for shampoo? Or, the first time you walk into the nursing home and wonder what horrible person abandoned the old lady slumped in the wheel chair only to realize it is your mother? I thinkest not.
And lest colleagues dismiss this danger like when I warned against DIY Botox, deep fried turkeys, and the cotton ball diet, I say take heed. Amazon already has 200 books with ChatGPT listed as an author or co-author such as “Galactic Pimp: Vol 1” and that is just the beginning of the deluge. Some publications no longer accept submissions because they are being inundated by a bot. How can you have any self-respect when your three-letter name isn’t worthy of a palindrome? Even God has that perk.
For those of us who consider Raman noodles as a food group, the already slippery financial slope of appreciation for good writing is on a cataclysmic waterpark slide. Because here is the sad thing: writers may not get paid much, but once your free trial runs out, the makers of ChatGPT will get paid. A lot. From people who no longer will hire writers.
Perhaps the hope for the future may be presented by ChatGPT itself. When asked “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” it responds, “Chucking wood would require a certain level of dexterity and strength that woodchucks do not possess.” Ah but dear readers, we human writers do possess that level of dexterity and strength to succeed.
That is, if you decide that words matter. And if you decide writers matter. And if you decide to pay us… (Cryptocurrency not accepted.)
