A ChatGPT post for the wary and uninterested

Dear readers - I’m squeezing in one last post for 2022…see you in 2023!

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I am not an internet person. In other words, when it comes to any cultural phenomenon existing on the internet, my default position is “I don’t get it.” I take some pride in this, particularly when it comes to certain addictive social media platforms, and I really admire the rare writer these days with no internet presence (an approach which I did try—did you catch my work in the print-only Talking River Review last year?!)

However, I am also chronically behind the times, since “the times” occur very much on the internet these days. I have found that this type of lagging can compound—once you elect not use Twitter, then it seems even more daunting five years later to get into TikTok, and then whatever comes next may be simply outside of my capacity. This idea scares me, that I might be unable to engage with something new because of a habit of not engaging with new things, and that this habit will leave me unable to interact with the world that way that the world wants to interact.

Enter ChatGPT. For the uninitiated (and I’m wondering if this group of readers tends uninitiated, like me?), ChatGPT is, essentially, an AI writer. It is accessible to anyone on the internet, and you can ask it to answer questions or write in various styles. The results are stunning. For examples of what it can do (and a bunch of laughs) check out this post by comedian and genius Alex Dobrenko on his Substack Both Are True.

I am reflexively dismissive of this ChatWhatever. I hear second hand about the amazing things it is doing, but I don’t see them myself because I am not on Twitter, and the very last idea on my mind is to actually get an account and look at it. People text me about it. I start to feel low-grade sense of anxiety. I should check this out. It’s a writer. I’m a writer. But I don’t want to.

Why is that? Why don’t I even want to sign into this thing and ask it one measly question, see what it can do? Why can’t I just be amazed and tickled the way it seems everyone else is? (“Everyone else” being a few YouTubers whose reactions to ChatGPT are featured in an episode of The Daily podcast, who all seem excited about it—my meager data points.)

One answer is, of course, fear. I think that fear drives a lot of my internet luddism—fear that I will find that I’m not doing enough (what successful writer isn’t on Twitter these days?!), fear that by looking I will find out that the way I’m doing things is no longer relevant and that the new ways of doing things, which I’m bad at, have already taken over, that the train has already left and I’m not on it. How many generations of people have felt this same fear, how many people whose jobs are under threat currently feel it? I think that for me, with ChatGPT being a writer, with my being a writer, with this being one of the first few examples of technology really making its way into the realm of creativity, my awareness of that fear crystalized and I can feel, actually feel for the first time, the dread and overwhelm that must be felt by millions who see technology and a younger generation coming fast in the rearview mirror. I think this is a useful fear to feel. It makes it impossible to dismiss the impact of our breakneck progress on the inner lives of so many individual people. That doesn’t make it fun, though.

However, my avoidance of internet stuff is not only driven by fear, and I think it would be selling myself short to end with that. I also have a sense that certain things I do, certain ways I do things, are precious to me; a deep knowing that certain approaches to tasks or creativity yield better work or make me feel more satisfied. I would not be quick to replace, for example, my system of taking notes on index cards, because the inefficiency of it is what makes it so powerful—the slow pace forces space for the mind to work, the physicality opens new channels of thought. This is a much more glowing review of my internet hesitation, a sort of self-knowledge combined with dogged resistance and persistance.

I think these two drivers—fear of what’s coming and love for what is—give me a glimmer of an answer regarding what to do about ChatGPT, and how to think more generally about engagement with new internet technologies for those of us who aren’t drawn to them. For me, it is about understanding what is precious to me and not letting it be disrupted; and also understanding what I’m afraid of and not letting it block me.

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I used ChatGPT for the first time in the middle of writing this post. Having come to my neat fear-and-love conclusion, I decided that trying it would not, it seemed, disrupt something precious to me, and so I shouldn’t let a nebulous fear of it block me. Using ChatGPT was easy and demystifying, and therefore therapeutic. It is a mindblowing technology and it is unimaginable to me how it was built. At the same time, it lacks even the slightest twinkle of what I love about good writing: the beautiful language and the surprises, the complexity and the contradiction, the introspection and the subtlety. ChatGPT is not claiming to provide these things (yet), but it was good to see it for myself. And when the next iteration arrives, I will be a bit familiar.

In my long-term quest to imagine matriarchal principals applied to the modern world, I asked ChatGPT to do something that I can never do: “Tell me about a matriarchy in the voice of a man.” ChatGPT responded:

A matriarchy is a social system in which women hold primary power and predominate in roles of political leadership, moral authority, social privilege, and control of property. Matriarchies have been documented in various cultures throughout history and are often thought to be more egalitarian and peaceful than patriarchal societies, which are based on male dominance.

In a matriarchy, men may have complementary rather than dominant roles, and their rights may be protected along with those of women. Some men may find this type of society more fulfilling and rewarding, as it allows for a more diverse range of voices and perspectives to be heard and valued.

It is important to note that matriarchy and patriarchy are not necessarily mutually exclusive and that many societies have elements of both systems. Some societies, for example, may have women who hold significant power within the family or community, but men still hold more power in the larger society or government.

It is also important to recognize that gender roles and power dynamics can vary greatly within and between different matriarchal societies, and that it is not fair or accurate to make generalizations about all matriarchies. Every society is unique and should be understood on its own terms.

I couldn’t agree more.

—Rae