The debt and the standard
My position on the machine, stated plainly enough to be wrong about.
Yes, I pay for a tool trained on stolen books. I knew. I subscribed anyway.
Roughly half a million books. A federal judge called the taking unlawful, and this summer the company behind my favorite AI finished settling for $1.5 billion. About $3,000 a book.
I also participate in (and benefit from) an economy that was built (historically) on the backs of enslaved people of color, live on land taken from a (historically) displaced native population, and enjoy societal privileges and entitlements that gave me a head start over other sexes and identities.
An engaged life, even one that strives to become a better person and help others do the same, is complicated, complicit, and impossible to keep clean.
Last week’s piece was a response to Substack’s Pangram checker announcement/position, the inherent misuse/misinterpretation in AI-scoring, and an initial position statement. This is a deeper exploration and refinement of that position: what do I owe, and to whom, for working this way?
The debt
Training an AI on books was ruled fair use — the judge compared it to a reader who studies in order to write. Acquiring those books from pirate libraries was ruled theft. That’s what the $1.5 billion paid for. And 96% of surveyed authors say their consent should have been required in the first place. It wasn’t.
Intentional theft of someone else’s IP for corporate or personal profit is illegal, AND “Ideas that spread win” (Seth Godin). The creative process has always inherently included elements of thievery coupled with idiosyncratic innovation and augmentation.
“To steal consciously is the way of art and of craft. To steal through breath is the way of wisdom and of art that transcends.” — Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather
What is legal is up to the courts. What is just and right is up to each of us.
Reparations are an attempt to redress systemic wrongs. They require recognition of unfairness and harm, expression of regret, and taking responsibility and participation in redress — not ignoring, distancing, or disengaging.
Canceling, non-participation, and abstinence remove our voice and example from the ongoing discussion about how to increase fairness, access, and abundance. Engagement is, admittedly, fraught, vulnerable, and messy, but it’s the only way I can imagine being able to contribute to the greater good and answer MLK’s invitation: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
A licensing market is forming. Publishers now license titles for AI training at a stated price, split with authors, opt-in only. My money follows the companies that paid, that license, and that keep getting sued into better behavior.
It’s not a perfect position, but, for now, it is my preferred one.
The flood
About half of new articles on the web are now machine-generated. Books assembled by no one have shown up for sale under real authors’ names.
I left LinkedIn and X and took a 9-month hiatus from Facebook because of the flood of AI slop in my feed, and have made dozens of decisions about unfollowing or continuing to follow creators on Substack whose work I recognized as increasingly smelling of “AI creep” based on my judgment of their presence, transparency, intent, and value.
The flood of AI-generated content and the inherent problems and threats it brings is ALSO the opportunity for the thoughtful, disciplined, committed, and well-intended creator to lead the way and forge a path to better.
One of the lessons in this moment is that making a difference is not about being seen. It’s about learning to see.
“Which means the entire contest everyone’s exhausting themselves inside how do I get seen —how do I stand out, how do I prove I’m real — is the wrong contest. You cannot win being-seen against a machine that fakes it for free. But you were never supposed to be playing that game. The light was never for being seen. It was for seeing: for doing the actual work, solving the actual problem, burning off your own dark first. Being seen was only ever the thing that happened to you when the fire got hot enough. The machine can counterfeit the appearance of light infinitely. It cannot counterfeit the fire, because the fire isn’t an image. It’s a cost paid in a body, overtime, that happens to throw a light.” — Nic Peterson, Turn the Light On, or Become the Flame
This is not an either/or moment. It’s an opportunity to embrace a both/and approach that enhances the prospects for users and audiences.
“It’s not slop because it was created by an AI. It’s slop because it’s slop.” — Seth Godin
“Who approved this?” is an invitation to embrace responsibility and agency for what I’m making, what it’s for, who it’s for, and the promise I’m making about how I improve the work and enhance its impact going forward.
And the bar Godin set in December 2022 hasn’t moved.
“If your work isn’t more useful or insightful or urgent than GPT can create in 12 seconds, don’t interrupt people with it.”
The smokestack
One text prompt costs about a quarter of a watt-hour and five drops of water, by Google’s measured disclosure. A year of my heaviest use is a rounding error beside a weekly cheeseburger habit.
This cheeseburger comparison is a risk/reward, cost/benefit analysis around the discerned value of AI-assisted work.
The benefit and value to my community, clients, and readers FAR exceeds the cost. The short- and long-term risk to them, myself, and the environment, compared to the upside reward potential, rounds to zero.
My travel or food purchasing/consumption, household maintenance, etc. each have a much higher environmental impact, and they attempt to benefit only my wife and myself.
AND the buildout is still a real problem.
Data centers are nearly half of America’s electricity demand growth through 2030. One AI company ran dozens of unpermitted gas turbines beside a Memphis neighborhood and pumps roughly 800,000 gallons a day from the aquifer that the city drinks from.
We all need to participate in the redress of the environmental/societal impact AND do so in proportion to our contribution and profit from that impact. We all need to play a role. However, the individual creator’s footprint and profit pales in comparison to that of the corporations who traffic in its development and deployment. Responsibility is shared, but should also be proportional.
The line
The Authors Guild now certifies books as “Human Authored.” Their line: AI for research, brainstorming, and outlining is fine; AI-generated text, beyond a trace, disqualifies the work. By that line, some of what I publish wouldn’t qualify. I want to say that plainly, because “AI-assisted” is doing a lot of quiet work in many bios right now.
Here’s mine.
An idea pops up on a walk, or while I’m reading. I jot it down, noodle on it for a few days against my current knowledge and experience and against the known positions of others. I research and discuss with friends, family, and Circle/Inner Circle subscribers, form an assertion/hypothesis, and steelman it against other prevailing positions.
Then I begin drafting how I want to present it to my audience by developing an intended reader’s arc and outline, referring to my own past work (most of which was created without any AI assistance), and collaboratively organizing, drafting, refining, and revising with Claude.ai.
Claude helps me identify what’s missing, broken, or needs work so that I create the best product possible for my readers. An experience transparently enhanced by AI assistance to amplify my presence and the value of my idiosyncratic (and hopefully unmistakable) thinking, technique, tone, talent, taste, timbre, temperament, and talent as the creator of the work.
My answer to “who approved this” is me, always. I take full responsibility for what I publish under my name and how I created it.
How it lands and is interpreted is beyond my control, and I plan to continue to use that feedback to help become a better contributor and creator.
Where that leaves me
My position is to play your game. “Never AI” is a defensible position if it is true (or at least being truly pursued), and if that position truly helps you get closer to what you want and who you want to become (without interfering with others ability to do the same, of course).
“All AI all the time” is not a position I endorse. When it comes to content and creating change, more for more’s sake is a trap.
Like any other tool, the efficacy and ethics of using AI to enhance creative work begins with the intention, integrity, and impact of its employment.
Using the tool out loud and in public while others watch provides the feedback and data that will allow those of us whose work is dedicated to enhancing the lives of others to refine, revise, iterate, improve, optimize, and maximize that endeavor with increasing purpose, prosperity, and peace of mind for all. Historically, the increased access to technology creates greater abundance.
Let’s talk about it
You may weigh the debt differently than I do. Good. Weigh it and weigh in. Decide your terms on purpose. Then, whatever they are, tell the people you serve and feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below.
Onward.
Scott
Written with the assistance of Claude.ai — drafted and refined from my own ideas, examples, and decades of practice. The thinking and the responsibility are mine.
There is too much shame associated with AI for people to admit they use it in any significant way. People are branding others with the scarlet AI without discretion and it’s unfair. It’s all very self righteous and irritating.
Excellent article! I too use AI in my creative process, not to replace my thoughts, but to enhance and magnify how I'm thinking. AI helps me capture ideas, challenges me (because I ask it to), and is a partner. When I taught a webinar on ChatGPT's use in data analysis with Power BI earlier this week, I emphasized the need for the analyst to own the accuracy of the data and the results of the analysis. As with data (numbers), so go words and thoughts. I am the human in my interactions with AI, and I am responsible. When I began writing plays 40 years ago, a teacher told me ideas are cheap, and all stories are recycled; it's how you put them together that is where the magic happens.
Keep up the good fight my friend.