Typos, Em-Dashes, and an Appreciation for Human Error in an Age of AI

A researcher from the AI company Anthropic, recently went viral after posting a series of tweets where he warned that the development of super-intelligent AI agents was moving too fast, faster than ‘alignment’ (meaning, the AI agents would work in alignment with human values and ethics). He stated the researchers are more fearful for the future capabilities of AI than they’re sharing with the press, and stated these truths prompted him to leave his position at the company.

Another researcher added to the viral moment, tweeting that in his opinion there was over a 10% chance that AI could end humanity in the next ten years.

Artificial intelligence, its uses, environmental impact, military capability, and the ethics surrounded the technology have been hot topics for much of the year. Between teachers lamenting over students who are unable to complete AI-proof, open-ended assignments to data centers being built despite community pushback; there’s strong opinions both for and against AI and its ongoing development.

One of the less dire discussions around artificial intelligence is weeding through writing and art that is generated by the tech versus that which is purely human-created. The Oxford comma, the em-dash, and certain buzzwords have all been pinged as supposed hints that written work has been AI-generated.

Lately, as I delve into my own writing journey; it’s made me think. Of course, we want correct grammar and prose in our blogs, articles, and posts. But as certain markers of good grammar – RIP to the em-dash – is being shirked as “AI-slop,” there must be a certain charm in a there versus their mishap or a comma splice.

It means that there is, in fact, a human at the helm of that project. The words someone need to share were so important that they wanted to do it themselves, mistakes included. For the sake of expression. For connection.

To be so passionate about saying something that there’s a rogue apostrophe. Then, we get an unedited, authentic insight into the mind meeting the mouth (or, keyboard, I guess).

I’ll hold the Oxford comma with care, love the ‘e’ before the ‘I,’ and cherish the run-on sentence. Because it has an informality of a human’s excitement, something that can’t be replicated by a program taught to give perfection.

It also calls into question what is the best way to continue to create work that separates our voices from those of the automated. Luckily, I think that the answer is very simple and straightforward – read. And write, too.

Read the classics. Read horror and fantasy. Read contemporaries. Read the blogs and the news publications and the newsletters. Naturally, we’ll reflect in our own work the things that stand out to us as compelling in those influences.

Then write. Start the substack or the blog or the personal brand projects. Write it and edit it and write it again.

It’s an exercise in persistence, if nothing else. And an opportunity to participate in one of the longest running and most important activities humans can do – bear witness and keep record.

And I’ll forgive the missing comma.