I was a sucker for the challenge. And like Narcissus gazing at his reflection in the pool of water, I was smitten by what I saw.
A writer I respect, and who, like me, is generally not inclined to support the use of artificial intelligence as an aid in writing, suggested submitting a sample of our writing to an AI program for an analysis of our style. I never should have done it, but I gave the AI program my online URL, www.billteague.online, and asked for some comments on how I write – not so much what I write.
The program said of my style in these Observations posts, “(it) is reflective, conversational, and deeply rooted in personal observation. He blends thoughtful commentary on faith, life, and culture with a tone that feels approachable and sincere…His prose is straightforward yet carries a gentle rhythm, often punctuated by a dry wit or subtle humor that keeps it engaging. He’s not afraid to question conventional wisdom or admit uncertainty, which gives his writing a relatable, grounded feel. …Overall, it’s a style that invites readers to pause and think alongside him, rather than dictating answers—intimate, unhurried, and quietly provocative.”
Well, thank you very much! I feel affirmed, especially since Microsoft Word often tells me my sentence structure is too complex and that I might be better off choosing a simpler word.
It was an interesting exercise – affirming and maybe helpful. But it is artificial affirmation. Fake praise. A Colorado State University post says artificial intelligence “combines large sets of data with intelligent, iterative processing algorithms” to find patterns and features in the data it is analyzing. I don’t know anything about an iterative processing algorithm, but I doubt that it actually felt invited to think along side me or that it may have been engaged by my dry wit or subtle humor.
Maybe AI will be helpful in curing diseases or getting my Amazon order to me by tomorrow. But any affirmation I may feel or encouragement I may receive is false. An algorithm’s “well done” is less real than a sleeping parishioner’s “nice sermon” at the backdoor handshake line after a Sunday worship service. As a stone tossed in the pool distorts the image Narcissus so adores, a mis-programmed algorithm will shatter my AI-generated sense of worth.
Especially in the age of artificial intelligence, we need real people to tell us real things – affirming or maybe not so affirming.
Solomon was wise when he wrote, “the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel” and “faithful are the wounds of a friend.” Proverbs 27:9 and 27:6.
Sure, I’d like to improve my writing style. Maybe AI can help. But I would rather have a friend tell me my sentences are too complex than have a machine affirm me for being approachable and sincere.