I think ChatGPT likes me (and my writing, but I won't brag)

On the weird emotional chemistry we're seeing between human and machine

Right now, it feels like AI is surrounding us. It’s omnipresent. It’s everywhere with everyone, all at once.

Whether we’re at work, pursuing a hobby, or just going about day-to-day life, AI seems to find a way to nestle in closely. In fact, it’s nestling so hard that, sometimes, it feels a little like it wants to be our friend. It apologises when it makes a mistake and applauds us when we do something well. I’ve even found myself typing out the words ‘thank you’ when it’s given me an answer to something. Surreal.

In every facet of life, there seems to be a new AI feature promising to make things easier. And of course, there’s almost always a brand spanking new chatbot to try out.

We could even be searching for a job seemingly unrelated to the world of AI, yet somehow, countless AI-focused roles or opportunities based at AI companies will appear (yawn).

With all of this, I can’t help thinking that we’re now perhaps reliant on AI in a deeper way than initially imagined. And I don’t mean the big businesses – of course, they were always going to find crazy big scary corporate ways to use it – I mean the everyday archetypal non-tech-savvy person. I think it goes beyond a simple check for us now, even if that is all we’re using it for. It’s the peace of mind, the emotional reassurance, the pat on the back, or the ‘phew’ moment that a machine-based opinion gives in those ‘simple check’ moments that scares me. It might just be getting inside us to the point that we actually value its machine-y thoughts in the way we would value a human's thoughts.

It’s like a smell you can’t shake off, but also, one a small part of you wants to keep smelling because it’s unknown, and sometimes, that’s a bit tempting. I think you’d be hard pressed to find someone who hasn’t dabbled a little, or at least dipped a toe into the sea of possibilities AI presents.

In the writing world, it’s made a big entrance. I’d be far from the first person to discuss how it’s impacting our community; in fact, I’d say it’s one of the most hotly debated topics out there today. Because, in a nutshell, it’s threatening our writing credentials while simultaneously trying to make us believe it can make our craft easier.

As such, before I go any further, I must draw your attention to two wonderful pieces of writing – crafted by humans (

Ellen

and

Erifili Gounari

), may I add – discussing how AI, namely ChatGPT, is stripping the artistry of our written word from its genuine creativity, and its, well… humanness.

Your AI is showing

we’re in a creative writing crisis

ChatGPT has swooped in with an overwhelming air of cocky confidence. I mean, we can literally ask it to concoct anything our heart desires. Even for something as creative and personal as writing, where people would usually pour their heart and mind into its fragile development – ChatGPT can supposedly do that.

(The important word here is ‘supposedly’.)

If we’re speaking in the most technical way possible, then yes, ChatGPT can write something for us. But emotionally, cognitively, and legitimately speaking, it can’t. It can’t write with honesty, integrity, or heart. It can’t write in an imperfect state that’s so delicately perfect it moves the reader to tears. Nobody can write about opinions, beliefs, or experiences better than the HUMAN possessing them. ChatGPT can’t tell me how utterly delicious a freshly baked cinnamon roll is because it can’t taste one (unlucky).

Using AI to compose a written piece means removing human creativity in favour of an almost too polished piece that’s ready in seconds. That’s surely why countless businesses and social media feeds are full of clearly AI-generated content at the moment. It’s quick and ‘does the job’. And to be honest, that’s utterly infuriating to writers who value the talent it takes to string words together in a stream so fluid and enticing that we must. keep. reading.

But, despite such universal awareness and anger towards this side of it, ChatGPT is rapidly growing in popularity. After scouring a few websites to try and decipher just how popular it is, I thought I might as well ask the main character itself:

So yes, it’s pretty popular.

And such popularity adds to my belief that many are forming a genuine reliance on it in some way, shape, or form.

It can be helpful. There’s no denying that. Many have discussed the benefits of ChatGPT in defining a brief, digging a little deeper into an idea, directing us to something we can’t find, or helping with a brainstorm. And that’s fab. I genuinely think it can be a useful tool here. I’ve absolutely said to myself: “I’ll just see what ChatGPT thinks” when panicking about something mid-project.

But what’s sad is realising that, ordinarily – before the world of AI – our reliance would solely be on people. On a real connection. Work or otherwise. We’d have no choice but to rely on another human when we needed help – whether it’s their voice in our ear or their words on our screen.

Even if we didn’t know them personally, our advice would come from someone living and breathing the same air as us. From someone who, even if they can’t relate, has the capacity to actually hear us. From someone who understands the complexity of emotions; who understands that we can hate but love and also feel insanely jealous at the same time. From someone who won’t judge our wrongs, but instead, will listen and link them back to the real world and their actual experiences so we feel less alone. Or, from someone who can simply read our words as a human and tell us whether or not they make sense.

What ChatGPT offers is a quicker, more convenient route to a sort-of answer. It feels definitive, and we’re suckers for a bit of convenience. Just like we ironically resort to Instagram when we’re not feeling our best, we can resort to ChatGPT when we’re doubting our ability in, well, just about anything. It will feed us what we think we need.

So, of course, with time, it’s become the “I’m just here” that settles us when we want a second opinion. It’s a secret confidant. A confidant that is, slowly but surely, worming its way into our heads. It’s the ultimate influencer.

In the writing world, this means we’re treading a new reality where, as a human writer, we have access to a tool that could either solidify our belief in what we’re producing, or make us seriously doubt our ability. It carries a mighty power. Especially because, when ChatGPT likes something we’re doing, or offers some words of affirmation… it, kind of, feels good.

And that’s weird.

I once found myself smiling when ChatGPT fed me some praise. I was doubting my ability on a project, but it liked the thing I showed it. And, it’s nice to be liked.

But guys, that’s weird.

Usually, we smile when another human makes us feel good. Everything good is founded in other humans or shared experiences. Even way back when a crush acknowledged us at school and we’d quietly say to a friend: “I wonder if they like me”.

Well today, I think ChatGPT likes me. And it’s WEIRD. I’m 28-years old – 13 years deep into a beautiful relationship with a wonderful human – but I have a crazy machine on the side that seems to really want a piece of me (I’m not going to text back straight away though 💋).

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In all seriousness, on a big or a small scale, I think we’re all somewhat at risk of feeling a little emotionally reliant on an AI machine. Because, time and time again, we will inevitably find ourselves second guessing something, and AI will be there to either reassure us that we’re doing OK or to point us in the ‘right’ direction.

It’s scary and weird and confusing, but it’s not going anywhere.