As the semester has been slowly coming to a close (in its own hellish, 4pm sunset, beating-the-dead-horse-that-is-my-extended-project kind of way), AI has been on my mind a lot. I’ve been reading articles these past few months on ChatGPT and the way it replaces everything from relationships to therapy, so much so that it has led to a human overdependence on AI. I think most of us are aware of both our growing reliance on AI, whether it's simple Grammarly auto-correct or full-blown para-delusional relationships with ChatGPT. I’m also at fault – as someone who uses summary and recording software catered towards my ADHD, it’s helpful, though not entirely ethical. Even to support my needs, water is still tossed down the drain in developing countries. As much as I want to do a better job, it’s hard to ignore the reality of even ‘good’ AI. 

Through my readings on AI, I learned that AI has recently been terrorizing and stealing from artists, whether it’s copying human styles, winning official art competitions, or making AI music which now tops the charts in our very own cozy corner of the UK. That’s when a sudden realization hit me: dystopia is no longer a genre we play fantasy in – it’s a seemingly inescapable lifestyle. 

Take for example this seemingly insignificant moment from last year. During one of many 11am IR lectures, I overheard a conversation between two of my friends about how to end your lesbian situationship. A classic social predicament to find yourself in these days, I wasn’t too engaged, until my friend half-laughed, half-sighed about using ChatGPT to help her formulate her text. My curiosity morphed into quiet horror, but I did not say anything at the time, shock fizzling throughout my body. I do, however, remember feeling slightly disappointed: I thought, ‘Well, my friend is an intelligent woman with enough critical thinking skills and emotional intelligence to come up with a coherent and balanced response, surely?’.  

Apparently not. Though, who am I to judge how she navigated that conversation? Maybe she was too tired or too traumatised by the experience (and who wouldn’t be) to want to put any more effort into it, when she could get a machine to do it for her. Because that’s what AI is for: to help with our problems. Right? 

If it wasn’t already obvious, I vehemently disagree. Watching AI develop to the point of artists losing jobs, friends being unable to communicate with their situationships, and even Gen Z struggling to distinguish AI photos and videos from human made content has sent me into a state of near insanity.  

As I mentioned before, I want to confess that I have used AI. I do not anymore, and try my best to turn off every AI feature that damages my cognitive ability, but I’m not going to attempt to paint myself as a saint when I have fallen into the same trap as everyone else. However, I’ve now developed a sense of shame every time I even flirt with the idea of using ChatGPT within the privacy of my own mind. 

Yet, some people do not share this same sentiment. Some people, I have come to learn, have no shame. And not in the sexy way. Once my resentment for ChatGPT settled in, it was everywhere. On more days than not, I see people shamelessly sitting with their laptop screens open to ChatGPT for their assignments, typing their little prompts and questions into that innocent looking search bar. One might as well start publicly announcing their kinks on t-shirts and eating off the ground (is that even shameful these days?). But seriously, the unashamed, public use of ChatGPT is the most obvious example of our generation’s abuse of AI and the degradation of critical, human thinking. And in the space of academia, it becomes even more dangerous. When I see someone using ChatGPT in the library, I can only think, ‘Do you remember why you came here?’.  

I can already hear the pushback, so let me nuance my anger. Firstly, I understand that in our current socio-economic climate, AI can help you with a likely overwhelming amount of work, as more students work part-time and commute because of horrendous rent and cost-of-living prices. But education is not to blame, rather, it is the lack of support in place to help a growing number of students who do not have the same luxury of time they had a decade ago. 

Secondly, in a conversation I had with a friend studying psychology, she quickly countered that her professors instructed her to use ChatGPT to structure their essays in exams. This is apparently true for subjects like chemistry and physics too. As a student who is told time and again by their humanities departments to steer clear of any AI, I found myself perplexed at the differing attitudes. Yet again, in bi-monthly anthropology workshops which tackle the intersection of AI and anthropology, we use ChatGPT to see how AI reacts to certain anthropological prompts. It seems it is harder than I would like to separate myself from the very evil I seek to reject. 

But that won’t necessarily stop me. This article is written as humanly as possible; my own tiny way of resisting the use of AI to engage with the world. Another student-based magazine announced their theme ‘Machina’ for their new issue to spark discussion on technology, and of course, AI. In a post to encourage submissions, a photo of prompts generated by ChatGPT was posted to their social media. It is likely all in good nature, and I’m not here to police anyone, but the haunting image of ChatGPT ignited a quiet burning resentment I held deep inside for this software. Human creativity was being replaced quite literally in front of my eyes. I was quite angry. 

Know this: my articles may come off a bit rough around the edges at times, but you will not catch me using AI to help me write them. They are 100% human, which means they won’t be perfect. I am not a seasoned writer with twenty years of experience. The only way to write better is to experience the ups and downs of my writing. I understand that this means time and patience to develop my craft, and in a world where immediate results are the norm, it may look like I’m falling behind. But I argue that a mind which relies on reality to inspire will get me further in the long run. Tortoise and the hare, if you will. 

This too applies to my personal life. When I think back to the memory of my friend using AI to help her with a difficult conversation, I can almost picture the image of a robot speaking for her. It’s like if someone took the infamous Key and Peele skit of the Obamas having ‘anger translators’ and twisted it into dark and cynical image of robots speaking for the former President and First Lady instead. 

I’ve had many difficult conversations as I’ve entered young adulthood, many of which I wanted to run away from or completely forget about. Most of these have been messy and miscommunicated, angry and sometimes nonsensical. But I’d rather that than have a machine speak for me. It defeats the purpose of those conversations in the first place. I forbid a machine to potentially ruin a human connection; I can do that just fine myself! 

Despite my cynicism, I'm trying to make an aggressively human stance on things that, in my opinion, should stay human. I once joked to a friend that if I keep seeing people using ChatGPT in public, I’m going to start bringing a water gun onto campus and spraying them in protest. Too much? Maybe. But the point is that many things in life do just fine without AI. It’s better for our health, emotionally and intellectually.  

And if you disagree? Well – you’re entitled to your opinion, and maybe a water-proof jacket