Czech playwright Karel Capek may have predicted the repercussions of Artificial Intelligence with his 1920 play, R.U.R., in which factory machines rebel against their human workers and take over the world. Over the next century, the theme of man succumbing to his own creation would become a regular convention of science fiction, as creator and consumer alike feared the worst: human obsoletion.
Given the myriad of functions performed by modern Artificial Intelligence programs–the most prominent being OpenAI’s ChatGPT–it’s safe to say that their anxieties were not unbased.
Recent demographics show that the majority of ChatGPT users are below the age of 34, many of these individuals being college and graduate students. Artificial intelligence is certainly a helpful tool for those pursuing a degree; its various platforms can aid students in interpreting data sets, performing calculations, explaining multi-layered concepts, and generating practice problems for every subject imaginable.
But while the above applications all represent an ethical use of the software, the lines become blurred when students venture into matters of creativity.
One such subject is creative writing. Does the use of AI destroy the integrity of the art? Or is it a helpful editing tool that will improve the writing of generations to come? The answers to these questions aren’t simple, but those at the forefront of the issue–namely, professors and students of creative writing–can help to navigate its nuances.
Will Brewbaker, a Duke professor of creative writing, declares that “AI poses a real threat to our creative faculties. When we offload the generation of ideas, images, and language to an LLM, we are, to quote Duke professor Thoman Pfau, ‘actively ceding agency’ to a machine–and thus depriving ourselves of the inherent goods that come from exercising our own creativity.” The tagline here is clear; indulging in the use of external tools in this context sacrifices any benefits that would accompany the flexing of a creative muscle. AI is a sure detriment to passionate writers.
This question–that which attempts to formulate a solution–proves the most difficult to address. Professor Brewbaker accurately admits that “I don’t think it’s plausible to ‘push the use of AI’ out of the field. But I also don’t think that means we have to simply ‘accept’ the consequences, or even ‘adjust’ our sense of what should be the case to what seems like it’s going to be the case.” Indeed, the answer to AI use may not be all or nothing, but something shaped by those who are truly passionate about the craft. Brewbaker continues, “Maybe I’m naive, but I think that many (even most) real writers–whether ‘professional,’ students, or otherwise–simply aren’t tempted by AI. They recognize that the value it provides is fundamentally different than the value they can get from reading, say, the poems of Elizabeth Bishop or the novels of James Joyce. If AI provides value to the human as consumer, then poetry provides value to the human as human.”
When asked this question, first-year English student Emerson Eickholt responds: “I believe AI could be used honorably to generate ideas or help with the editing process. AI should be used to polish already-created work. There are aspects of the art of writing that people are superior in, and there are aspects of writing in which AI has the leg up; AI becomes helpful when people learn not to use it.” Perhaps the benefits of AI, as Eickholt asserts, lie not in its creative abilities but among its supplementary tools. Though the integrity of writing should never be corrupted by a fabrication of human voice, using technology to improve its quality can be navigated ethically.
“I think AI is a necessary concept to touch on,” Eickholt muses. “However, a central element of creative writing is the originality of the work and operation of creation. I think that those truly passionate about delving into a field of creative writing appreciate the absence of AI and pure authenticity of ‘imperfect’ work. AI should be taught, but it should not replace human creation.” Here, Eickholt draws attention to an important nuance: authentic writing is by nature imperfect, and it is these flaws that make a piece all the more enticing–both for a writer and a reader. While AI may play a role in the classroom in terms of editing, its use must be limited to preserve the voice of the writer.
The remaining question is this: As progress continues, will those who have dedicated their lives to creative writing be replaced? Some, like Professor Brewbaker, remain optimistic: “I’ll keep this one short: of course not!”
