“Is this AI written? … I’m sure this is AI written. … This is a different tone from your usual.”
I receive notes like this with increasing frequency. At first, I thought they were a playful game of cat & Claude.
But now I suspect it’s something deeper.
In the age of slop, readers test authenticity.
Post-AI, I’m deliberately lacing posts with subliminal sincerity. Unique forms of punctuation, like my affinity for the ampersand1 & neologisms, novel words like “mid-model-market”2 & the deliberate use of grammatical plumes: sentence fragments, dangling participles, & rhetorical devices3 & mimicking authors, like Cormac McCarthy’s long, winding sentences4.
In the early 2010s, I hired an editor to help me with my blog posts, asking him to critique each one like an AP English teacher.
Now, AI has become my editor, teaching me about stronger deks & nut grafs5. Its recollection of arcane statistical analyses is near flawless, & its rigor has earned it a seat as my resident quant.
Great editors suppress their own voices to favor the author’s. Ghost writers harmonize their own voice with the author’s.
The problem with AI as a ghost writer: everyone uses the same ghost writer. AI’s voice isn’t the author’s.
Too much AI & the piece loses its musicality to a clanker’s monotonous internal tune.
AI is a poor ghost writer, but a great editor.