The fashionable thing for writers to say is that they don’t use AI for writing, but they use it to make their writing better.
For instance, somebody at the PSA World Conference last week said he uses AI for “argument testing.” I shrugged, in sleepy acquiescence.
Then I thought, no! You know who real writers use for “argument testing”? Their readers!
Lookit: Before I publish a thing—especially a potentially controversial thing—I run it by a bunch of people I know. Those people are all in my head. They’re a different crowd, based on the topic of the piece. If I’m declaring Triumph motorcycles superior to Moto Guzzis, it’s one group. If I’m trying to convince you that J.D. Vance is far more loathsome than Donald Trump, it’s a different set of people. They are not a review committee that gets to vote on my piece. They are review individuals, whose opinions I have come to respect, on these subjects, as I respect my own.
One recent post notwithstanding, I very rarely run anything by an actual person. I just think of their point of view, and read the piece through their eyes. Which I’m really good at, because I’m a writer.
That habitual, by-now-instinctual procedure often leads me to acknowledge downsides to what I’m proposing, add caveats (and embellishments!) and otherwise strengthen my argument. (Like right here, where I think of the corporate writer friend who wants to know I’m not judging her for using AI to make sure the CEO reading the earnings script she’s writing won’t be blindsided by an activist investor who disagrees with the premise. But of course that’s not writing, really, that’s messaging.)
Once I’ve consulted all the friends and enemies of my message that my mind can conjure, I’m happy to fire it off, secure and heart-glad in the knowledge that readers will let me know what I’ve missed, where I’m deaf or blind or dumb. I’m up for that process. I live for that process. Sometimes, I release an argument from the harbor knowing that there are a few leaks in it that I don’t quite know how to seal, and looking forward to having them pointed out.
The idea of turning to Claude to “test” my arguments so I can make them unanswerable to everyone on the Internet—this starts to defeat the reason I write in the first place. I don’t write to make unassailable arguments against immaculate counterpoints, but to communicate, with other human beings.
Shopenhauer said, “Reading is thinking with other people’s minds.” Writing is speaking to other people’s minds.
Other.
People’s.
Minds.














