What if I went to the gym and instead of working out I used a robot to do the workouts for me? Why not? It’s a lot easier that way, isn’t it? No sweat. No pain. No ache the next day.
A recent study suggests that the lifetime risk of dementia after age 55 is around 42%, according to the National Institutes of Health (NIH). This means that nearly half of the population will develop dementia after midlife, and the risk increases as we age. For example, the risk is about 20% by age 85, and the majority of this occurs after age 85, as reported by the NIH.1 Compare this to Alzheimer's (a form of dementia) statistics that “about 1 in 9 people age 65 and older (11%) has Alzheimer's.”2
Although dementia and Alzheimer’s are not strictly preventable, they can be delayed. My father has early-stage dementia. He was once an accountant and now can barely do the math to calculate his own age. His hobbies were watching television and working. He did not read many books. He did not try to learn new hobbies. I learned how to draw because of him, but he is barely able to write.
Because of this fear, and the usual “forgetfulness” I see in people my age and older, I started years ago to study not only the academic languages I know but other languages as well. Whenever I can, I pick up Vietnamese. Whenever I can, I listen to my French neighbor speak and try to respond. I attempt to speak poor Spanish each time I see people who might speak it. After all, we are in Tejas. But what I love to do is solve complicated problems in my work to keep my mind active. Much of this problem-solving is done through writing. However, one thing that I try to avoid is letting ChatGPT do that for me.
This is because:
ChatGPT is only a mirror and tool; it does not do critical and creative thinking well. It is like a very knowledgeable eight-year-old. It can do precise proofreading and, until lately, could not count how many letter “r’s” are in the word strawberry (that recently changed with CGPT5).
It is a mental crutch. Since many people rely on it to write, they themselves are forgetting the art of writing, the art of expressing themselves. They forget how to fumble with sentences, how to fail with words, how to construct lines, how to think. Writing is not easy for many people, and that is why they resort to this tool.
It is reported by brain experts that AI tools have led to people not being able to bear what is called a “cognitive load.” When we write, type, encounter a problem with trying to express ourselves, our minds are working hard. This then creates patterns and synapses to figure out the solution. This is why sleeping is great for problem-solving. Even though we might not feel we are getting energy, we are recovering to our baseline of performance, where we need to function on a daily basis. This forms the mental structure of our minds. New experiences, new words, new sights and sounds contribute as building blocks.
When we encounter something, and even someone new, our minds need to make sense of this foreignness. That is why there is much prejudice and bigotry in the world. It is a natural consequence of crossing the boundaries of the tribe. We see the “other” as dangerous and our minds try to make sense of it. Think of a time when you met someone who was very different from you. How did you try to fix the unease? With a joke? With a sentence like, “Where are you from?” That means the mind is trying to adjust and does not realize it. When it can reconcile with something familiar and see that person or thing as not a threat, it relaxes. But when it cannot resolve the difference, then it becomes fearful or angry or even violent.
Writing is a way to help us try to make sense of these experiences, and leaning on AI robs us of attempting this exercise. This is not to say that AI can’t be used as a tool, but essentially it is an underwhelming tool that can never replace the human mind and its potential. Conversely, the more we use it as a crutch, the more it depletes the human mind and potential. We forget why writing was invented in the first place—not only to communicate but to express something deep inside of us.
I write so that people can know the terrain of my soul, the geography of my inner world. Books that are difficult, not because of bad writing, but because of nuance, concepts, and unveiled mystery, are needed to help us think and grow. They are like games that require precision and skill, like Go and chess, not button-mashing to get to a boss level.
But good writing is also helpful, fascinating, and served up with intention. It honors the audience’s mind and assists them in creating their own worlds or solving their own problems. It is not spoon-feeding, but like an Omakase chef handing you a well-crafted Temaki cone.
But our minds are a paradox. They want ease, certainty, and security. The human collective has brought together AI within our lifetimes. What was science fiction is now science fact. We stand at the pinnacle of human development where we don’t “need” to write a text or letter for ourselves—something will do it for us. But what does this mean? We save our time for other things and do not have the friction of needing to think of what to say, but it also means the mind is not getting stronger, not building new systems, not finding new ways to express language. There is no need when we already have large language models. So the same brain that created this marvelous tool is also the same brain that is slowly dying.
Lastly, what makes AI writing so dangerous for us is that the words we use are the closest things we have to symbols for who we are. Insofar as representing ourselves to the world, we have our bodies and we have our words. I can invite you to my place and we can have a wonderful conversation, or you can read my words on this page. They represent me—not all of me, but marks of who I am.
Brush strokes that make an Eastern character in ink are beautiful in themselves because they represent both the words and the artist. This is the same as how we put these words on the page in the order we want. As we read them, these words become either a road to some destination or a barrier. They flow like streams or are dammed up with clutter. This is the same as the soul who writes them. A social media post, if done without AI, reveals much about a person’s internal processes—their skills, the way they think, and how they interpret the world.
As much as social media is a bane, it does show the sea of pain of those sharing their comments across the infinite landscape of our virtual world. We can tell how much hurt a person has in their comments and tweets, how much joy in their posts and texts, merely by the bad grammar, inconsistent syntax, and poor spelling. It is evident that the world still hurts, and AI writing will never really convey any of that.
https://www.nih.gov/news-events/nih-research-matters/risk-future-burden-dementia-united-states#:~:text=The%20researchers%20estimated%20a%20lifetime,the%20societal%20burdens%20of%20dementia.
https://www.alz.org/alzheimers-dementia/facts-figures