Trusting the Irreplaceability

“Writing can soon be replaced by AI easily.”

“….”

My heart really skipped a beat when someone said this to me. But when I think deeper, what hasn’t been replaced by AI or technology recently? Hair loss—you can fix it without even growing hair. Heart malfunction—you can get a brand-new heart; likewise, kidneys, intestines… almost everything can be replaced. Sooner, babies don’t even need to be born; they can be made! (Yet in action—but no wonder if it comes to action.) So no wonder writing, too, is said to be easily replaceable.

I’m not a meticulous writer. I just want to pour my mind out, so that some beautiful souls—with lots of patience—might read and resonate with me(not like a one-time conversation, as the words remain here). That’s it. I write about the little happenings around me—not to belittle small things. In this fast-moving era of scrolling reels and shorts, we often forget to look around and enjoy those little moments.

How could AI do that for me? Maybe it can help polish and reframe my words. But authenticity? Originality? That’s where it definitely falls short. It cannot be one’s creation.

A few months ago in Singapore, I attended a meetup where a famous critic, Corrie Tan, answered a few questions from the audience. One of the questions was about the use of ChatGPT, and her response left a lasting impression on me.

She said that for a student whose English is very poor—and for whom it is a third language—ChatGPT can definitely help bring out their abilities and allow them to express themselves better. But, she added, it is like medicine: if you overdose on it, you know what the consequences will be.

I found that thought very sensible.

I often hear this now—school and college students use AI to finish their homework and assignments. Just 10 to 15 years ago, I clearly remember how we used to roam around libraries to find answers for our work. That was definitely not the ChatGPT era. And this era is definitely not the library era—though libraries have advanced digitally(in case of doing homework or assignments).

Setting all that aside, AI is making an impact everywhere—from beautifying emails to developing software. It’s a striking contrast to a time when writing a permission letter to our professors, with no fewer than four lines, was considered a challenge. Now, I can imagine how neatly and perfectly a letter can be designed exactly the way we want. So, in a way, it has already taken the job, right?

But, but…wait, This blog is not AI generated. It’s still readable. It's ’organic!’. 

Let’s put it this way..nowadays more than to consider ‘organic’ as ‘organic’…‘organic’ is mostly considered as a brand! Anything tagged as ‘organic’ we immediately fall for that not knowing whether it’s truly organic. 

But this  blog is literally a part of me. It cannot exist if I don't write it.

In our regional language, there was a famous actress named Saroja Devi. Her style of wearing a boat-neck blouse 65 years ago is still in trend. It may go in and out of fashion, but it has never really disappeared. Not just the blouse—even the sarees worn by our great-grandmothers are still flaunted by their great-granddaughters.

In the name of technology (and now, with the addition of AI), we have already lost many of our authentic traditions—both in literature and in our lives. Yet, at the same time, advancement has allowed even an old-time joke or song to return to the limelight and make an impact once again.

A handmade painting, even if it’s just a single brushstroke, has nothing in comparison to AI-generated pictures—and the same applies to writing as well.

Ideally, whatever goes out of fashion will come back into fashion. It’s all part of the process—life moves in a circle.

So, humanized writing—or even handwritten script—will definitely be celebrated as something truly organic and handmade: irreplaceable, where every little thing is a treasure of life.