Writing slow in times of TikTok and AI

We live in an age obsessed with speed. Our attention spans (including mine) have shrunk to only handle one-minute content, and we are emotionally dysregulated because feelings no longer come at a human speed, but rather as a storm every time we scroll. Opinions are faster, responses are too. As generative AI is reshaping how we think and write, and social media rewards a blitz of emotions over substance, I find myself craving the time to write, read, and think with care.

The rise of AI

Leaving aside the foundational risk to our societies of the fast progress of GenAI (for more, see here), the reality is that GenAI is taking over many of the tasks that used to be inherently human: It decides for us how to respond to an email (listen here), answers questions we may have ponded over for hours or asked friends, and probably makes us lazier, and less knowledgeable in the long term (see here).

But I will not claim to know more than your average amateur follower of these developments. What has been worrying me, is the impact of these tools on writing, both in the field of art and in academia, as I started a PhD a few months ago.

A preprint from 2024 already shows that academic papers are increasingly using certain style words, due to the use of LLMs in writing. Having recently made it my job to read, write and talk about papers, I worry about reading the same ideas over and over without the joy that a well written, carefully crafted and creative paper sparks.

Social (?) media and online communities

At the same time, the only social media channel I once found mildly benefitial (Twitter) is now in the hands of the extreme right, and the algorithms make meaningful content impossible to find amidst a storm of hatred, duck videos, and again, bots and AI generated fake images of giant squids and whales (or at least, this has been my experience).

I tried the alternatives, and in none of them did I find what I once had. Nor was it a feasible quest. I spent over a year platform-less, and quite disengaged from debate. In retrospect, the co-optation of Twitter created the space for me to re-think my approach to online communities. Did I want to continue producing and consuming bite sized commentary? The response is in front of your eyes.

The need for thinking slow

I’ve been trying to read longer pieces (been loving substack!) and I also want to write more, both to exercise the writing muscle and to convey thoughts with all their nuance (or at least, with some more than in 240 characters).

Also, making a website is fun, and this website is mine. I decide everything, from the color of my hyperlinks, to its structure, and what is featured when. It is my space to design and craft, without word limits or algorithms. My poetry, my academic work and my collage can joyfully co-exist in one place.

We wanted an alternative to Twitter that did the same thing, but, it turns out, maybe we did not need more of the same. Some of us have filled the gap with texts that require sitting with a whole cup of coffee, and slower thinking in the era of immediacy. I am loving the revival of newsletters, and my favourite academics writing substack posts (see exciting recent announcement by Julia Steinberger).

So this is where I will stay, for now.