The lost art of writing

As AI advances, it could permanently alter the relationship between humans and the written word. 
| Photo Credit: Getty Images

If the Elizabethan era was the golden age of literary brilliance, the present age might well be its dark counterpart. Shakespeare’s eloquence and Austen’s wit led to prose that challenged minds and expanded vocabularies. Fast forward to today, and our collective writing skills seem to be on an extended sabbatical, but this one doesn’t promise to rejuvenate us. Instead, it signals a growing cultural decay.

AI is now making its way into the world of literature, stirring both intrigue and concern. In a recent experiment, author Stephen Marche released Death of an Author under the pseudonym Aidan Marchine, blending human input with machine-generated text. This murder mystery, a scholar’s quest to solve the death of a literary icon, showcases just how far AI has come in writing fiction. With 95% of the novel generated by AI, Marche acted more as an editor than a traditional author.

As a writer, it scares me to see what AI is becoming increasingly capable of. Professionals like me — including creative writers — are now facing the uncomfortable truth that AI is not just a tool; it’s evolving fast. While we like to tell ourselves that AI cannot write like humans, the reality is that it’s getting better every day. What’s more unsettling is that content writing, which many writers take on to kick-start their careers, is already a low-paid gig. Now, AI tools are flooding the market with instant content, making it even harder for writers to earn a decent living.

Writer Paul Graham has warned of a future divided into two camps: “writes” and “write-nots”. “Almost all pressure to write has dissipated. You can have AI do it for you, both in school and at work,” he notes. “The result will be a world divided into writes and write-nots.”

As AI advances, it could permanently alter the relationship between humans and the written word. With the ability to generate essays and stories in seconds, students may avoid learning the craft altogether. Loopholes in plagiarism detection tools make it easier to evade scrutiny, blurring the lines between authentic and automated work. This reliance on AI extends beyond the classroom into professional spaces. From marketing emails to business reports, employees can use AI-powered tools to handle communication tasks. The pressure to develop writing proficiency, already waning, diminishes further.

With language models like ChatGPT and Claude evolving rapidly, the need for original thought and expression seems under siege. The value of authorship — the very essence of personal creativity — risks being rendered obsolete. In this dystopian landscape, where essays and novels can be churned out by machines in seconds, the distinct voice of the writer is drowned out.

While some might argue that AI enhances productivity, the broader cultural cost is harder to ignore. Will we enter a world where words lose their power because they no longer carry the weight of human experience? Or will those who can still write become the torchbearers of a forgotten skill, preserving a flickering flame in an age of digital convenience?

The deterioration of writing skills isn’t just a loss of ability — it signals the decline of a civilization’s intellectual foundation. In a world divided between those who write and those who let machines write for them, we risk losing more than words on a page. We risk losing our ability to think deeply.

Joanna Maciejewska, an author and video game enthusiast, captured the sentiment perfectly: “I want AI to do my laundry and dishes so that I can do art and writing, not for AI to do my art and writing so that I can do my laundry and dishes.”

In a world increasingly governed by algorithms, the choice to write may be the ultimate defiance. The question is: will we let machines do our thinking for us, or will we reclaim the pen and safeguard the art of expression for generations to come?

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