In the times of AI,

will there also be writing?

Yes, there will also be writing.

About the times of AI.

Can AI write better than humans? Of course it can. If not today, then tomorrow, and if not tomorrow, then certainly the day after. Inevitably, technology will get better. It already has in so many areas. A chess software can beat any grandmaster; a music software can play the guitar or the violin with flawless precision, far better than any human musician. It surpasses us in technique, but — and this is crucial — only in technique.

There is no fun in playing chess against a computer unless your aim is to train so that you may one day defeat another human. The fun, the drama of the game lives in human error and human imagination — not in perfect calculation.

In the same way, AI will outperform human writers in the technical aspects of writing: grammar, vocabulary, structure, plot design, etc. These are necessary elements of writing, but they are never the whole of it. Just like listening to Siri or Alexa can never be the same as listening to another human. Surely, it’s functional and efficient, but it is also entirely without the texture of life. It does not make you feel anything.

Yes, AI will replace many writers in the future, and thank God for that. Academic writing, for instance, deserves to go obsolete. As a reader one often feels the urge to pull their hair out just to understand a simple point. If AI can explain a concept with clarity and simplicity, why should we resist it? Printing once replaced certain forms of painting and calligraphy, yet painters still paint, calligraphers still use their pens. Similarly, potters still create beauty with their hands even though factories produce millions of pots every day.

A pottery artist at work

So, what will happen? It seems that some forms of writing will disappear. And some will evolve. But writing itself will survive. That much is certain.

But let us imagine, for the sake of argument, that you disagree. Suppose you believe AI will replace all forms of human writing. In that case, will human beings simply stop writing?

To answer that question, let me take you back to the early days of your own writing life. Why did you begin this journey? The reasons may vary, but at the heart of it lies a simple truth: you wrote because you had something to say. As long as you have something to say, you will write. No one can stop you. In fact, the more someone tries to stop you, the stronger your urge is going to be.

You may also wonder: what if there are no readers left? Who will read human writing when AI can produce endless polished pages? But if human history teaches us anything, it is that people always keep exploring. And at least some of them do seek the handmade, the imperfect, the personal. Some still buy hand-made pottery even though machines make “better” pots. Some stand in awe before a painting even though a camera could capture the scene with far more accuracy. There will always be readers who seek the human touch.

Ultimately, we must remember why we read. We do not read a writer because their grammar is perfect. We read them because we love their style. And style is inseparable from one’s personality. It is made of quirks, habits, oddities — certain imperfections that no machine can authentically possess.

I, for instance, begin many sentences with “And”. And when I ask an AI to do the same, it never knows how often to use it. It has no instinct for my rhythm. It can imitate me, but it can never be me. A mannequin may resemble you, but it is still not you. A mimicry artist may sound like you, but they do not become you.

Our works may be replaceable. We are not.

And as long as our inner voice exists — that stubborn, irreplaceable essence that each one of us carries uniquely — there will always be human writing.


If you’d like, I can also… Nah, I am kidding. Just trying to imitate these algorithmic loudmouths. Why should they have all the fun?