Monday, 7 April 2025

♫...Old Nick Bond, Wrote a Book, AI, AI, Ohhh... ♫

I'm definitely not a technophobe. No way! I was the first person I knew to get a smart phone. I regularly eschew a staffed checkout for a self-service, preferring my own thoughts to the pained small talk some cashiers feel the need to offer. And then there're the apps. I can turn on my heating, defrost the car, or search for directions before I leave the house. Technology? All over it, mate. 

An animation of the cartoon character Inspector Gadget in a grey Mac and hat, scratching his chin with a gloved hand on a spring that's popped out of his hat.
Just call me Inspector Gadget
But what I continue to be, I like to think, is discerning. Look, I'm no Maggie Philbin or Judith Hann. I'm just an everyday person navigating the world. I don't need the blingiest, most space-age gadgets for every given task. Nope, I try to look at a new technological advance on offer and make a decision. Is this actually better than what's gone before? It's great when something comes along that makes life easier. But here's the rub. It must be easier AND better. Not easier and crapper. That's a rubbish pay off. Who wants ease when the end result is shite?

Why is this on my mind right now? Well, it's because of the current discourse surrounding artificial intelligence. Look, I know the score. We've been using AI for years. Without realising it, most of the time. This article is from 2019. I deliberately found something from a while back, to show how people have been climbing aboard the AI train without much thought. Me too, natch. And you know what? Fair play! Having my Hotmail account (mostly) spot the spam and send it straight to Junk, is good. It makes my life better, not having to wade through gross crap from bots and pervs. Carry on! 

Likewise, I'm pretty reliant on my SatNav. Because of a missed update, I recently learnt the hard way what it's like to follow directions in an unknown town towards a closed road. Arghhh! I managed not to stop dead at the red closure sign and cause a pile up. Instead I turned off at the next open road, drove around in a flap for a bit, before finding somewhere to stop and have a think. Bring back my AI updated satnav! I need it! 

And when someone has purchased one of my books in the past, and then Amazon suggests my latest one to them while they're looking for something else, I'm grateful! I have many beefs with Amazon, but not that. That makes my life easier and better! Hurrah.

But back to the topic in hand. I said there'd been a load of AI discourse lately, and there has. I see it in publishing chat, a lot. Because whilst there are some decent ways we can use AI and not feel like we're compromising on something fundamentally good, it's not always the case.

Lisa Simpson is crossing her arms across her chest and looking outraged as she says, 'I'll die before I misspell.'
Take spell check. If you're terrible at spelling and grammar, you'll probably love it. You'll cling to it at the end of something you've had to write, changing every highlighted error. But for those that are pretty handy with their written communication, it's clear that spell check makes mistakes. It doesn't get context. It misidentifies English spellings as incorrect, or flags up deliberately chosen dialect or slang. I rarely use it. 

Or, you know when you're typing an email and your computer tries to guess the end of the sentence and offers the next few words? Urgh! Only if I were writing in obvious cliches would that be any use to me. Or predictive text? It's often wrong. Or when I Google something and have to scroll past the AI overview first. Why would I want an AI overview? Where's it come from? What sites has it used? Why is it slowing me down while I check I'm getting information from a trusted source. To rely on AI for all of that, feels like we're throwing our hands up in the air and saying, 'Quality be damned!' 

I was talking about this to a mate recently. She'd started to use ChatGPT for work - to get ideas for presentations to clients while she wrote them. It posed a question. (Full disclosure: I can't remember if I asked it. Wine had been taken. ) The question was, 'Why would she think an AI program would give her a better result than her own brain? Or her selected trusted sources that humans had written? When AI is comprised of pulling generic stuff from a load of random, unchecked places, why would a mishmash of derivative information be better than what she could produce herself? Particularly when she knows the specific needs of her client base. I think I know the answer. It's because it's quicker. It cuts a corner but gives her more time for the rest of her job. And I guess that makes sense. I can see why that would be good when your day is comprised of a million other things. 

But it's not that simple for everyone. When your entire job is the artistic creation of chapters, verses, or scripts, perhaps the ability for someone to generate a bland and basic facsimile of your content is NOT the way forward. This is the issue that the publishing industry is grappling with at the moment.* How can we protect creative professionals and their intellectual property, in the face of the rise of AI? That's the question currently being debated between anyone linked to publishing. I'm sure other areas of the arts are having similar convos.

That's not all though. A recent Atlantic article broke how Meta (that's Facebook and Insta and whatnot) have been using published authors' work to train their AI engine. No one had been informed about it before the fact. No one had been paid for their work. It is only possible to check if your content had been stolen by using the handy search tool in the article. So far, mine has not. But many authors - both traditionally and self-published - have had their copyrighted work ripped off to train Meta's AI tools. 

An animated cartoon Shakespeare head. He's got the receding hairline, the white ruff, and is crying.
A weeping Shakespeare 
laments his lack of copyright.
Take William Shakespeare. He's had his plays used for AI training. Having died well over seventy years ago, his copyright expired a while back.** But let's use the example to see where it leads. Say you want to write a Shakespeare-style scene for, oh I don't know, a comedy sketch? Or a school project? You could ask the AI engine to write you something Shakespeare-esque, involving a skull, or a quill, or even a wheelie bin. It'll pull from a variety of sources, most notably Shakespeare's own stuff, and it'll churn out something 'in the style of.' The result would probably be amusing. Perhaps Shakespearian-sounding in places. But it would definitely be clunky, include small amounts of gibberish, and be a pale imitation of the real thing.*** And you know what? That's fine. It's Shakespeare. His canon is established. His work is in the public domain and has been forever. No one needs to worry about Shakespeare getting ripped off or devalued. 

But consider the same process for an author who isn't so established. Their writing style can - on the surface of it - be quasi-replicated easily and cheaply. That means their work becomes devalued, and their career adversely affected. When you're trying to make a living - or more realistically, trying to fund the odd night out here and there - knowing that something can ape your style whilst being less accomplished in its delivery, really sucks. Plus, it's stealing. That's supposed to be illegal.

The UK Government recently had a consultation period about AI. Their AI playbook released in February, gives the impression they're quite keen on its possibilities. The Society of Authors held a protest last week. Targeting Meta, they focused on the illegality of intellectual property theft. The Writers' Guild have likewise been advising their members how to fight back in the face of their industry being swallowed up without much thought. Indeed, my own Government consultation response, that I wrote based on the notes from ALCS, focused on the need for exemptions for copyrighted work. It seems that whilst people are on board with making life easier and processes quicker, they're not thinking about the effects on culture. 

We all access culture. We all devour the products of creativity. Most of us chill out at the end of the day with a binge-watch. (I've recently hoovered up The Residence on Netflix. It was a whimsical delight!) Viewing the pitch from a purely writing perspective, we know how much society absorbs written stories. Whether it's books, films, or soap operas, we're obsessed with the lives of others. Hey, take the film, The Lives Of Others. Would an AI engine create the beautifully nuanced story of one man's journey from a cold rule-based Stasi officer, to someone who learns the value of poetry and expands his inner world, all whilst visibly remaining the downtrodden automaton he's always been? There's no way! The churned out script would be stereotypical fluff. It'd be heavy handed and dull. It might be quicker than writing a film from scratch, but it would be far crapper by comparison. 

An illustrated pencil drawing of a hand, holding a pencil, tapping it in frustration in front of a blank page.
Creating. Takes. Time.
Besides, who says the creative process should be quick? Who thinks it should be easy? It's SUPPOSED to be a slog. It's the blood, sweat, and tears of the creator that over time, make it a thing of beauty; a compelling and absorbing use of your time. It's not meant to be done in a flash and onto the next thing. If it were easy, its value would plummet. 'Quality be damned!' I type, for the second time this post.

All this is to say, that while I'll still watch films that an algorithm has suggested, or use my satnav whenever I'm in a new place, I plan to keep a discerning eye on new tech as it pops up. Does this technology make my life easier AND better? It's got to be two for two. Anything else can be swerved. 

In terms of my books, I'm committed to refusing to use AI in my writing. Why would I? My brain created Leeza McAuliffe and that's where I'll go for her subsequent exploits. Likewise, my front covers are created by a human artist. Gary is his name. He's boss. Could I create something usable with AI tools? Maybe. Would I want to? NO! I want them to be brilliant. I want an artist and designer whose work adds value to my own. Not a quick and easy rip off of other people's intellectual property. It's as simple as that. So while the Government is looking at ways that AI can improve productivity and cut spending in Westminster, it needs to recognise that it's not that simple. Creative industries will be adversely affected if there are no restrictions and exemptions. And with that, the quality of the telly, novels, theatre, even the adverts we consume, will deteriorate. Like I said at the top, I'm no Maggie Philbin or Judith Hann, but I'm no technophobe either. Make my life easier AND better. That's the challenge. When it comes to creativity, I don't think it's something AI can ever hope to achieve.

Have a lovely week, folks.

*Interesting aside. As I typed this sentence, the predictive text element of Blogger wanted me to write '... This is the issue that the publishing industry is grappling with at the Monet.' Sheeeeesh.

**To be absolutely accurate, copyright law didn't exist in Shakespeare's time. But nowadays, copyrighted material becomes fair game for public use, seventy years after the death of the person that holds copyright. Every year there's a new batch of cultural output that  - for example - an author can quote in their own work without getting permission or paying for. This is why I used Ralph Waldo Emerson's writing as an opening quote in Carry the Beautiful. 

*** Here's an example of AI's limitations. A few weeks ago, you may remember, I wrote a eulogy for my laptop. While posting it on Bluesky, I chose a fabulous Gif to accompany my words. Joan Collins, as Alexis Carrington, is dressed to the nines in funereal black. She's wearing a hat with mesh veil over half her face, and she's tearfully standing at a graveside. In the three second gif, she looks down at the grave, has an emotional swoon, and then throws herself into the arms of a burly hunk standing behind. I chose the Gif so its camp comedy could accompany  my tongue-in-cheek writing. But! When I clicked to add the ALT text (the text that describes it for visually challenged readers) there was already an AI suggestion typed into the box. I could accept it, or type my own version over it. The suggestion AI had come up with was, 'A woman wearing a black hat with a veil over her face.' This is the most one-note, basic description of what was, in reality, some camp-as-tits, dramatic, visual hyperbole. Reader, you'll be pleased to know, I wrote over that suggestion with my own description.