As a creator of text- and photo-based work, I am exposed to two kinds of risk—one—of being replaced by AI, the other—of being accused of using it to cut corners. Those are two good reasons to submit an affidavit.
In terms of using AI as a writer’s tool, there was never a dilemma for me—to this day I haven’t deliberately used AI to create any of my writing. (I cannot say I don’t use AI at all because I don’t always opt out when running web searches or looking up translations.) Importantly, I’ve never been to the Chat GPT website. I don’t even know if it’s a website or an app! I’ve hard of Claude (a name I remember) and other alternatives to the original Chat GPT (with names I don’t). My attitude when someone insists I get some answers from a model (usually ones I assumed they might have) is like Picasso’s when they asked him about the moon landing.
Of course I’m no Picasso when I consider how satisfying creative work is being outsourced en masse to machines, especially if it spells ecological death by data center. But I’m learning to let improbable acceptance carry me as needed. Yes, I used to have a gift for writing few others had at their disposal. Now algorithms exist that can almost do what I used to do. But I still have my gift! I just won’t be selling what it lets me create to the people no longer interested. I’m lucky this won’t crush my livelihood and I feel grief when I think of all those who aren’t, my sisters and brothers of the em dash and the curly quotes and knowing when it really needed to be “you and me.” Increasingly, I notice all the ways my writing had to be something it wasn’t to satisfy client needs. Maybe with the clients gone I I’ll have an easier time figuring out what it is I really want to say.
In the past, I have found false accusations unfair and worrying, but I’ve developed an observer’s curiosity in this regard. After all, whoever assumes I am using AI (a) cannot fathom the attention I give to the task of writing and (b) probably doesn’t take the “from scratch” approach to many other things. Either way—they’re demonstrating values that clash with those I cherish. I’ve even discovered an unexpected benefit to this Orwellian nightmare, since I used to dislike the infrequent errors I let through in my writing, whereas these days I feel they finally serve a purpose as a kind of “certificate of authenticity.” On my first ever resumé I put “uncanny ability to catch typos” in the “skills” section. Today it’s leaving the occasional typo in that’s uncanny.
As for photos, I’ve always retouched mine judiciously. I oppose both the outright removal of flaws and the inclusion of them without softening the edges. AI functionality has made this faster in lightroom but not much different. What is clearly possible owing to AI that wasn’t before is the removal of distracting background details—electrical outlets, parts of parked cars, stray clutter. For the past couple of years I’ve often deployed the magic wand of Lightroom’s AI tool to tidy up backgrounds. It felt right at the time, but it also feels important to admit this, issue the disclaimer. For a half year or so I’ve been mostly on hiatus from photography. I have an archive of fifteen thousand photos I’d like to cull to around a third of that size. I feel it’s wise to wait until after I’ve cleaned things up before I add to my collections. I don’t yet know what my ethics will be when it comes to doctoring my images with the help of AI. What’s certain is that I’ll be considering these ethics as I go—and staying transparent about what I’m doing.