Let us be honest with ourselves. It’s late April. Assignments are piling up. Our group project members are slacking off. In the gloom of impending exams shines a glimmer of hope: our good friend, ChatGPT.
In many of my Business Analytics classes, the use of AI is encouraged to provide insights and check our code. But ChatGPT is the enemy of the creative. Artificial Intelligence makes a mockery of art. Because ChatGPT is a language model, it cannot speak to the distinctly human experiences that shape literature. It will never know how it feels to laugh when someone passes gas. It will never feel embarrassed after talking to an acquaintance with a piece of spinach stuck in between its teeth. It shouldn’t be able to write an article as well as me — a 21-year-old college girl with plenty of human experience in my back pocket.
Right?
Who’s ready to play: Are You Smarter Than an AI?
The rules are simple. I’ll provide you, dear reader, with a sample paragraph from an article I almost wrote (but never fully flushed out). ChatGPT will give its own attempt. Then, it’s up to you to decide who the better writer is. Play at your own risk — the fate of mankind may rest in your hands. If AI can be better creatives than humans, then what good are we anyways?
Let’s start off on a lighthearted note.
Round One: Pop music.
Me: “Taylor Swift’s most recent album, ‘The Tortured Poet’s Department,’ is also her most important for Notre Dame students. Like many of us, Swift is an extremely talented, attention-seeking overachiever. She knows what it feels like to be on top of the world. Since lockdown, the queen of pop has produced four new albums and four re-recordings. But let her latest feat serve as a warning: make sure you take a second to slow down. Soak up your success and revel in your fame before diving back to the drawing board. Lyrics like ‘You smokеd, then ate seven bars of chocolate/ We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist’ pale in comparison to the sparkling prose she once dreamt up in albums past (‘Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I can recognize anywhere’). Swift’s talent as a lyricist is inarguable, but within her newest release lies a cautionary tale: Let’s just all take a second to breathe.”
Now, let’s let the robot give it a whirl:
ChatGPT: “Taylor Swift’s recent musical output has been nothing short of prolific. However, amidst the whirlwind of releases and re-recordings, one can’t help but wonder if there’s a cautionary tale hidden within her lyrical landscape. In ‘The Tortured Poet’s Department,’ Swift navigates the complexities of fame and ambition with her signature candor. Yet, beneath the catchy hooks and poetic musings lies a subtle reminder to pause and reflect. Lines like ‘I scratch your head, you fall asleep/ Like a tattooed golden retriever’ serve as a tongue-in-cheek commentary on the fleeting nature of success. Swift, much like her audience, is susceptible to the allure of constant productivity. However, amidst the chaos of creativity, there’s a plea for balance. After all, in the tumult of life, it’s the moments of stillness that truly define us.”
…So ChatGPT can write a decent review. Big whoop. Any dummy with a pencil can scrap up an opinion on a piece of art. But writing about a distinctly human experience, such as female friendships, is something an AI shouldn’t be able to accomplish. Right?
Round Two: Relationships.
Me: “In lieu of dining hall meetups, this semester, my friend Anita and I have been sending each other 3-minute-long voice memos via iMessage. She’s abroad in Hong Kong and I’m eleven hours behind back in the Midwest. Summarizing the past nine months in the span of a three-minute-long voice memo is an impossible ask. What I end up telling Anita is that these days I feel as though ‘the world is my oyster.’ I have an internship lined up in my favorite city, a regular schedule filled with interesting classes and an abundance of trips planned for the upcoming school year. But what does that even mean, that the world is my ‘oyster?’ Oysters are slimy and fishy and expensive. If I wanted the world to be anything seafood related, I would’ve chosen butterfly shrimp. And if I wanted the world to be anything at all, I would probably want it to be made of chocolate. Anita laughed when I said that phrase. She said hearing me speak that way made her happy. I guess that’s the whole point of a good phrase: to make people you love happy, even if it doesn’t make any sense and even if they are very far away.”
Let’s let the bot try to write something as poignant about a uniquely human encounter.
ChatGPT: “Ah, the modern marvel of digital communication and the bonds it fosters across continents. Attempting to encapsulate the essence of nine months past and prognosticate the forthcoming six, all within the confines of a brief voice memo, feels akin to capturing lightning in a bottle — an endeavor both daunting and exhilarating. Yet, amidst the constraints of time and space, a simple phrase emerges: ‘the world is my oyster.’ Now, one might ponder the peculiar choice of metaphor. After all, oysters, with their slippery shells and briny depths, hardly seem emblematic of worldly ambition. If I had my druthers, perhaps I’d opt for a more palatable symbol, like chocolate — decadent, delightful and devoid of any aquatic connotations. Yet, as Anita’s laughter resonates through the digital ether, I realize the power of language lies not solely in its logic, but in its ability to evoke emotion.”
I’ll let you ultimately resolve who’s the better writer. But I’m pretty sure for now, we’re safe from the threat of robot journalists.
The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.
