
I must credit Ann Althouse for pointing me to an August opinion piece by the New York Times’s NeverTrump fake conservative Bret Stephens (who wants to repeal the Second Amendment!). I guess I should check out the Times more often; it’s just that it is an enemy of the people, one of the worst, and I resent what the paper has done to American journalism and, as a consequence, our nation.
But I digress. The subject of Stephens’ August column, “I’m Begging You: Never Write With A.I.,” is that learning to write clearly and well is an essential human skill, and one that has important feedback. In addition to making communication between human beings better (more effective, more persuasive, more rational) writing also clarifies the writer’s thoughts, requires close examination of arguments, biases and assumptions, and, essentially, the more one writes, the more adept one becomes at life competence.
I agree with the theory, with a blazing caveat. Stephens is speaking from the biased perspective of one whose associates are all in the upper echelons of educated society, are well above average intelligence, and who work, play and live among the minority of Americans who read, have articulate conversations, and place a high priority on verbal interaction. My late wife and I would sometimes change our table at a restaurant because the conversation at a table next to us was so banal and inarticulate that we wanted to scream.
Military analysts have noted that one of the reason Ulysses S. Grant was such a successful general during the civil war was that his written orders were masterpieces of clarity, telling subordinate exactly what they had to do in straightforward prose. You can see that same skill in his autobiography, which Grant wrote in his final days while dying of throat cancer so his family could pay off his debts with the income from its sale. (Which it did. Mark Twain published Grant’s story.) Today, most students graduate from high school unable to write well, or even coherently. You learn to write by reading and writing; I had to compose five-page essays in the 5th grade, ten-page essays in the sixth grade, and up to 20-page compositions, (with footnotes!) in high school. I wrote a 116 page honors thesis as a senior in college. Later, when I was an administrator at Georgetown University Law Center, I was stunned to learn that GULC was admitting students who had never written a substantive paper at all.
I’m digressing again, but my point is that for, tragically, the majority of Americans, being able to let a chatbot turn their jumbled thoughts, flawed logic and infantile vocabularies into clear prose is a major boon for them and the people they are trying to communicate with. Is it likely to be great writing or even good writing? Not right now, it isn’t. I am working on a project that requires a clear web page to describe it, and the content I have seen was heavily dependent on AI. Nobody had to tell me that; it was obvious, and bot-writing usually is. And it’s bad.
However. the theme of this post is that Stephens felt that he had to somehow virtue-signal to the Trump Deranged. Here is how he ended the column:
I agree with your points.
I did find it humorous that, in an essay at least in part dedicated to extolling the virtue of clarity and concision in writing, you found yourself digressing repeatedly.
I’m a big fan of irony.