Friend or foe? Wednesday Addams talks AI

Landing an interview with Wednesday Addams wasn’t part of my original story pitch.

In fact, I planned to write something simple like “Top 5 coffee shops in Metro Vancouver that give Nevermore Academy energy.” But Enid Sinclair, who happens to know me from an event we both volunteered for, had other ideas. 

“You have to interview Wednesday,” she insisted, bouncing around me in a coffee shop. God knows how she convinced — or annoyed — Wednesday into agreeing to do this interview.

Despite it all, here we are.

Wednesday: Ask your questions, let’s get this autopsy done.

Me: They say generative AI is going to change the world. Do you believe that?

Wednesday: I hope it does. The world needs a change — preferably into something dark, cold, and less optimistic. But when I see people lauding the “creativity” of ChatGPT, it makes me less thrilled and more nauseous. I do not own a cellular device nor do I scroll on TikTok, even though Enid tried to convince me. However, when she showed me this anomaly she called “writer’s aid,” it made me feel ill — though in all fairness, most things do. 

Me: As a writer yourself, do you think AI can write for humans, even as bad as it may be?

Wednesday: To call what AI does writing is an insult. Writing is pain. Writing is loneliness. Writing is staring at a blank sheet of paper until it looks back at you — and your soul comes up with a combination of words and letters that may or may not make sense. If you think AI can write for you, then I would consider that photocopier over there an artist. 

Me: So I take it that you like the traditional tools for writing?

Wednesday: I like my writing to be done with ink or a typewriter. At least this way, my mistakes can be scarred on paper forever. 

Wednesday stares.

Me: Ahem … some strong imagery. But don’t you think it makes the writing process easier?

Wednesday: When people say it makes their writing process easier, I agree. What would also make the process easier is burning their diary and claiming the ashes as memoirs. If I give Thing a paper and pen, he can come up with better ideas than AI. 

Me: But don’t you think it’s not the AI but the people who use it?

Wednesday: Of course, AI is not the only villain here. Humans are worse. Humans have already abandoned letters for text messages and ditched books for TikTok. Now, they are ready to give up the ability to think altogether. At this point, they should simply plug their brain into an outlet and be done with it. Students who use it to churn out essays are not innovators. They are grave robbers, stealing ideas from the freshly buried and handing them in with a smile. 

Me: Any scenario where AI could be considered a friend?

Wednesday: I am not entirely unreasonable. If you want it to summarize boring statistics, fine. If you need it to generate polite emails to relatives you’d rather avoid, fine. But do not let it near literature, poetry, or anything meant to outlast its own heartbeat. That would be desecration. A corpse pretending to breathe is still a corpse. 

Me: Um, so … any final words for writers tempted to use AI?

Wednesday: In the end, AI is neither a friend nor a foe. It is a distraction — a glowing screen of statistical arrangements of already existing data, which is mistook as art. Perhaps, when the servers overheat and the machines stop working, humanity will realize that.

However, if people want to let AI make their appointments with the dentist or water their plants, I do not care. I manage to stay clear of both. 

Until then, I will keep my pens sharp and shovel sharper.