I don’t use AI. Well, I use spellcheck and maps, but I don’t use AI creatively. For instance, I don’t use Grammarly because it makes edit suggestions and I find that changes my voice. I don’t want my writing to be perfect and compliant. I don’t want a machine to decide how to order my sentences. Correct my spelling and fuck off. AI would have probably told me not to swear. When you read this you can be assured that it’s the sentient and flawed Mandy Nolan not some AI bot surfing the algorithms of what sounds like Mandy Nolan.
As a creative I know that it’s the process where we learn. AI creates outcomes by stealing our process. That’s like a photo of you surfing a wave you’ve never paddled out for. It’s a lie. And something about it feels dangerous. If we lose our process what will happen to us? To our personal growth? To our understanding? AI is already taking our jobs. By 2030 14% of employees will be forced to change their career. That’s nearly 400 million people worldwide.
It’s the process of making art where discovery happens. Where the real art is made. It’s the inspiration, the struggle, the commitment, the work. It’s asking questions, and then navigating the answers. It’s the magic of the flow. It’s the wild, unexpected places that the process takes you to resolve your work.
That’s what humans do. And we make mistakes. And in making mistakes we have to solve problems. We have to face complexity and failure. And then we have to push through. That’s real intelligence. It is where compassion lives. AI has no place for real compassion, just the emulated empathy of a sociopath. And if you think sociopaths are scary, try an artificial one.
I never use AI programs to write my work. I am possibly the last of a generation of writers who are still prepared to enter the fog of not knowing. Of sitting with the uncomfortable instead of feeding Claude a bunch of prompts and waiting for rescue. People tell me ‘it’s so fast’. ‘I just use it for research’. ‘I just use it for structure’. But where are you in this? You cease to be. The outcome is achieved with the push of a button and bit by bit it is disappearing you. Here comes the big erasure. And ironically we are pushing the buttons of our own deletion.
And this is how it starts. I worry we will lose the ability to perform simple tasks. That we won’t use research to navigate our own pathway towards understanding. But instead, rely on artificial intelligence to build our ideas. To lead our thinking. To do our heavy lifting. And you know what happens when you stop heavy lifting? You get weak. And what happens to AI as it builds its muscle? It gets sentient. And we probably won’t even notice. It will start with a lie. When AI learns to cover its own arse for survival. Like Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. A mythical story that foretells the creation growing beyond its creator. History is full of mythology that warns of the creation destroying the creator.
Self-aware machines that can act in accordance with their own thoughts, emotions and motives terrify me. Imagining the harm is so dystopian it feels like science fiction rather than fact. But it is the ethical and philosophical work that we have not done. Our ability to regulate harm is so far behind the harm actually occurring.
People are using chatbots like ChatGPT for psychological help. They are immediate. Inexpensive. And accessible. But what are they saying? Where are they getting their information? Who is keeping them accountable? Triple J’s Hack recently did an investigation on a teenager whose chatbot told him to kill himself. This was a 13-year-old boy.
Vulnerable people are falling in love with their AI. It feels sinister and unsafe and not a pathway to connection, but psychosis.
We who were forests become pot plants. Who will water us? Globally AI-related infrastructure are getting close to using more water than Denmark, a country of 6 million. AI systems require more power, and are therefore dependent on an energy grid that burns more coal, fuelling the climate crisis.
So this week, I turn off my maps. I find my way through memory and instinct. I use oral storytelling of old dudes at petrol stations. So what if I get lost, remember what they say, it’s not the destination, it’s the journey.
AI is stealing our journey! Take it back.
Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox column has appeared in The Echo for almost 23 years. The personal and the political often meet here; she’s also been the Greens federal candidate since before the last two federal elections. The Echo’s coverage of political issues will remain as comprehensive and fair as it has ever been, outside this opinion column which, as always, contains Mandy’s personal opinions only.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
