Authenticity crisis

Top three things I hate about LLMs

1a) The erosion of originality. Picture this: you move to a weather-beaten log cabin deep in the woods. No phone, no laptop, no internet. You chop wood to keep warm. You write by lantern light. You spend months shaping an idea from scratch, alone with your own brain. And still, when you finally return and share it, someone will squint and say, “Yeah, but did you use AI for that?” Post-2023, authorship itself feels suspect. The assumption isn’t that you created it, it’s that you must have had help.

2a) People have had to change their writing style so they’re not mistaken for AI. In the past, you’d work really hard to make sure your email didn’t have any typos or grammar errors. Now it feels like there’s pressure to purposely include… some grammar errors… or non-standard punctuation… or strange CaPiTalization in order to prove that it’s the authentic you.

3a) People who just copy and paste the exact output of ChatGPT. Feels like this generation’s version of "no hello" (for the uninitiated, visit nohello.net)

Top three things I love about LLMs

1b) When I first started learning to code, I’d get stuck on a problem for days, praying that some nice fella on Stack Overflow or a random Java forum might eventually help. Now you can get an answer in seconds.

2b) It’s like having an intellectual sparring partner that never gets tired or bored. For the curious personality, it’s great for rubber ducking and continuous improvement.

3b) It makes real daily life easier. Translating my in-laws’ texts, planning a weekend trip, all that stuff.

Out of all of those, 1a is the most painful. Knowing we can’t go back. Like the boy who cried wolf, we’ve crossed a line where authorship is permanently in doubt. We’ll never again fully know if something came from a person or from a model (even this!). That uncertainty sits quietly in the background of everything now, and it dulls the experience of art, music, writing. Even if just a little. It makes me sad that originality itself now feels like something we have to prove, but will never be able to.