When evil was authentic

I recently had a conversation with a member of the vast online literati. Intelligent, well-read, normally quite articulate, and fanatically against the idea of “technology-assisted writing”.

Like what I asked. Styluses, quills, pens, typewriters?

“You know what I mean,” they spat out. “AI.” I could feel them pounding those two terrible letters on their keyboard, punctuating their disgust with a simmering period mark.

What exactly was the difference?

“They can do all the work for you,” the writer answered flatly.

My colleague paused and admitted that they had not really seen a chatbot actually do “all of the work” for a writer, “but they can definitely do it for coding already, so it’s only a matter of time.”

“They can’t really code very well,” I gently corrected, “and there are lots of errors and exploits in what they produce.”

“Then that makes them all the more dangerous in fiction writing,” my colleague proclaimed. “They can subliminally slip in product placements, propaganda, all sorts of mental poison.”

And humans unalloyed by AI haven’t done that?

“Not to that scale and speed,” they clarified.

That was a not-invalid point I admitted, but was that the fault of AI or the fault of corporations?

“It’s both, but ultimately the AI. It’s like nuclear power. It began as a bomb and it’s inevitable that it will end with a bomb.”

“But the pen never murdered anyone?”

“Not outside fiction, no.”

“How about outside ‘Mein Kampf’?”

Through the computer screen and across the ocean floor cables, somewhere on the other side of the planet, I could sense them sighing with aggravation.

“That was humanity’s fault, not the pen’s,” they answered pointedly.

“So, how does this work?” I asked, my own annoyance bubbling over. “Hitler’s pen factually killed more people than Openheimer’s bomb, but Openheimer’s bomb could still one day kill more people?”

That was exactly it, yes.

“And Hitler’s pen is dead and gone?” I pressed.

“I didn’t say that,” they replied. “But now it’s got access not just to the bomb, but also AI.”

“There’s really only one solution,” they said finally. “Un-invention.”

Back to when? Cuneiform tablets? Fire? They lol’d at the idea. “Back to when technology didn’t have the scale it does now to ruin the world.”

“But when has that been?” I asked. “Language is also technology, and it seems to me that we did a pretty good job ruining our lives with it long before nukes and bots.”

“Sure,” they conceded. “But at least the evil was authentic.”