As intelligence itself becomes privatised by big tech, allowing your intellectual faculties to wither in service of inane bots seems a dangerous move, says author Wendy Liu
The author reflects on her early experiences learning to code in the mid-2000s, a period characterized by unmonitored access to a family computer and the use of basic text editors. This self-taught journey involved countless 'painstaking hours of debugging and poring over arcane documentation' for projects that were often abandoned. Despite the apparent inefficiency of this method, it was deeply formative. This process, driven by innate curiosity and a profound desire to understand the underlying mechanisms, cultivated a 'love for a certain way of thinking' that proved invaluable throughout her computer science degree and subsequent software development career. It was a hands-on, problem-solving approach that built foundational intellectual faculties.
The author draws a compelling parallel between her coding experience and her path to becoming a writer. Her motivation stemmed from a 'sense of frustration' with existing discourse on the tech industry, feeling a significant 'gap' between her critical understanding of Silicon Valley and the prevalent optimistic narratives. She emphasizes that the process of writing, including the numerous 'discarded words,' was never a waste. Instead, it was a 'byproduct of thinking,' a transformative act where initial ideas evolve and deepen. Writing, for her, is not merely about producing text but about 'discovering what your values are and convincing yourself that they’re worth fighting for,' highlighting its role in intellectual and personal development.
Both the fields of software development and writing have undergone a dramatic transformation due to recent advancements in large language model (LLM) technology. The author describes this as a 'deskilling' phenomenon, particularly in software development, with the rise of 'vibe-coding' where AI generates code from natural language prompts. This shift has also been used as a justification for 'large-scale redundancies' by tech companies, impacting employment. In writing, the influx of 'AI slop' has led to a noticeable decline in quality and even subtle anxieties among human writers, such as a 'fear to use em dashes,' which have become an unfortunate signifier of AI-generated content.
The author articulates a strong stance against widespread AI adoption, viewing her avoidance of these tools as a critical act of 'cognitive sovereignty.' She expresses significant concern about 'cognitive offloading,' the temptation to delegate intellectual tasks to machines for convenience, arguing that 'thinking is the *point*.' This concern extends particularly to young people who may grow up viewing technology as an impenetrable 'black box,' managed by opaque corporations, thus diminishing their understanding and agency. The article warns against the privatization of thought by huge AI companies that aim to make intelligence a 'utility,' underscoring the political dimension of resisting this technological dependence.
The current period is characterized as an 'AI bubble,' marked by colossal investments of 'trillions of dollars' into data centers and a trend of corporations initiating 'mass redundancies' to channel resources into AI. This environment fosters intense pressure on remaining employees to 'maximise their own use of AI to stay competitive.' Beyond professional spheres, AI's influence has become 'terrifyingly normalised' in intimate personal contexts, from drafting 'wedding vows' to people 'falling in love with the AI itself.' This rapid and pervasive integration raises profound questions about the future of human interaction, creativity, and societal equality, amidst a backdrop of increasing wealth disparity.
The author candidly admits that her principled avoidance of AI tools makes her a 'less efficient coder' and a 'less efficient writer' in a world increasingly valuing speed and convenience. She acknowledges the potential for greater financial gain if she were to embrace AI, but consciously chooses a different path. For her, 'inconvenience and inefficiency may simply be the cost of preserving my humanity, of building character.' This decision is a deliberate act to foster a self 'deeply rooted in the world, who moves with intention and integrity,' asserting that these trade-offs are 'worth it' in the pursuit of higher human values over mere productivity.