Author: Franz Malten Buemann

Our stories about brains are all invented.

If a stunning surrealistic painting turns out to have been painted by an elephant or a toddler, does that make it less beautiful?

If an essay on the nature of reality was written by GPT-3 or a Tufts scholar, does it matter?

There are people who have no voice in their heads–they function as ordinary humans, except without the jabbering noise some of us call ‘consciousness’. Are they still human?

If a book was written by a ghost writer, or a team of ghost writers, does that make it less of a book? Not worth reading?

At some point, these aren’t simply philosophical debates. Given the connected nature of our economy and the advances of AI, these questions are showing up in our lives every single day.

All of the intent that we’re busy assuming that other creators have is invented. By us.

The stuff we interact with, created by us, by animals and by computers, it is simply the result of synapses firing away. We invent the story of its creation for our own satisfaction and sustenance.

When AI is smart enough to write an essay, then what happens?

GPT3 is back in the news, because, as expected, it’s getting better and better. Using a simple chat interface, you can easily ask it a wide range of questions (write a 1,000 word essay about Clara Barton) that certainly feels like a diligent high school student wrote it.

Of course, this changes things, just as the camera, the typewriter and the internet changed things.

It means that creating huge amounts of mediocre material is easier than ever before. You can write a bad Seinfeld script in about six minutes.

It means that assigning rudimentary essays in school or average copywriting at work is now a waste of time.

But mostly it reminds us that attention and trust don’t scale.

If your work isn’t more useful or insightful or urgent than GPT can create in 12 seconds, don’t interrupt people with it.

Technology begins by making old work easier, but then it requires that new work be better.

The thing is that facts almost never get in the way of a good story.

Because a good story feels true.

A good story resonates.

A good story is based on our feelings, long-held and hard-earned.

A good story sticks with us, regardless of the facts.

If I bring facts to rebut your story, they will fail… unless the facts I bring are the foundation for a new story, a story about doing something smart, based on evidence or simply more effective.

But facts alone have little chance in a battle with a good story.

Part of the job of making change is working to make sure a bad story doesn’t get in the way of good facts.