“Did ChatGPT help you with that” she said, after I wrote a lengthy reply to her comment on an Instagram post.
This isn’t the first time someone has accused me of using an AI bot. But last night I felt something cold. Something desolate. That no matter how many times I tried to reason with this person, they were convinced I was using AI.
I realized that we’ve entered into a new era where a lot of people can’t distinguish between original creative thought and AI-generated text. Or a beautiful photograph that took a photographer tens of thousands of hours of experience to get a perfect shot, only for people to claim “that’s AI”.
Maybe I am AI. Ape Intelligence. Me write words. Me have thought. Me argue with other apes on pointless social media. Me life no better.
Perhaps I’m the problem. It’s me that should evolve and not worry so much about everyone else.
I am human. I write prose. I have a conscience. I share civil dialogue with fellow humans. I think critically.
I think everyone intersects a crossroads in their life where they have to make a decision to let something go in order to move on. And I think with me, it’s time to let go a lot of things I know are holding me back. Be it stupid little projects that I keep telling myself I’ll finish later, problems I’ve adopted, or various relationships.
And those relationships could be a work peer that makes your job needlessly more difficult, a distant friend who never writes or calls back, or perhaps someone who’s actively trying to damage your (and everyone else’s) reputation.
What I have to tell myself is that I can’t fix everything.
It’s me that needs fixing and only I have the correct tools.