How to Compete With AI Writing
Why human writing and art will always flourish
Are writers the stagecoach drivers of the automobile era? Why would someone write in a world of large language models that can pump out passable prose far quicker than humans? How do us cavemen with quills compete with AI writing?
When I first witnessed ChatGPT in 2022 I overreacted. It was probably because I was consuming too many tech bro podcasts at the time. But I was convinced that knowledge workers — like us lawyers — were doomed. And my love and aspiration of ever “making it” as a writer seemed like aspiring to be a Renaissance painter in a world of digital photography.
Eventually, however, I came to understand that photography didn’t replace painting. But it did change it. Prior to photography’s invention in the early 19th century, painting’s value was largely based on its ability to depict reality. Suddenly, artists were faced with a technology that could capture scenes and likenesses more quickly, accurately, and cheaply than any painter.
But did painters drop their brushes en masse? Did the craft die? While some certainly viewed photography as a death sentence for their work — as many painters had focused on realistic representations like portraits and landscapes — others embraced photography as a tool. They used photographs as a reference material to aid composition and detail.
The photography revolution forced painters who wanted to compete to double down on their creativity and unique impressions of the world. Basically, exploring what photography couldn’t do.
Impressionism was born. Painters like Monet and Renoir captured light, color, and fleeting moments in ways cameras never could.
Many other movements followed, from post-impressionist painters like Van Gogh to the cubism of Picasso. Far from sending painting to the extinction annals alongside the dodo bird, photography forced it to, as my Dad always said, “Have a meeting with itself.” Painting’s value shifted from realism to creativity, interpretation, and emotion.
Writing must do the same in a world of AI writing. If human writing is going to break through and avoid its extinction event, we must double down on our humanity. We must inject personality, emotion, creativity, and interpretation in our writing, all of it informed by our unique human experiences in the real world.
If you’re like some of the writers who submit work to the publication I manage, which occasionally reads like a robot drafted it, you will be left behind. Because if your writing is formulaic and lacks soul, it doesn’t matter who wrote it. You might as well have had ChatGPT save you the time.
For the rest of us “impressionist” writers intent on proving human writing still has its place, we must adapt. Below are some ideas of what that looks like. And unlike photography, AI threatens to reorient practically every industry, so even if you’re not a writer, I hope these ideas add some spice to your craft.
How to double down on humanity in writing
I come from a world of academic and formal writing. It’s why I have written about populism, antitrust, and finance because that’s how my brain was wired. Political science and philosophy in undergrad. Law school. Experience in the legal profession and finance.
But that doesn’t mean my writing must be sterile. I’m sure it can get that way at times, but at its best, good academic or legal writing has humanity at its core. Ask any good trial lawyer how to win over a jury and most will say “great storytelling.” The best writing, no matter how formal, draws inspiration from and appeals to human emotions.
One of the best examples of this in the legal world was the late Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia. Many disagree with his judicial philosophy, but few would disagree with the quality of his literary prose.
“Frequently, an issue of this sort will come before the Court clad, so to speak, in sheep’s clothing . . . But this wolf comes as a wolf.” (dissenting in Morrison v. Olson, 1988)
Or the effectiveness of Scalia’s theatrical style.
“Like some ghoul in a late-night horror movie that repeatedly sits up in its grave and shuffles abroad, after being repeatedly killed and buried, Lemon stalks our Establishment Clause jurisprudence once again . . . .” (concurring in Lamb’s Chapel v. Center Moriches Union Free School District, 1993)
This type of theatrical writing reads like a human wrote it because it’s unexpected. It’s anything but an LLM predicting the next likely word in a sequence.
Differentiating ourselves from AI writing will require more of us to double down on our humanity in this way. Surprise readers. Drop expected twists and turns. Use analogies. Anecdotes. Metaphors. Similes. Dig deeper into the creative writing toolkit even if you write more formally for a living.
Human details are the garnish to any writing dish
How did something make you feel? Or if you’re writing from the third person, how did it make your subject feel? What did you see, touch, smell, or taste?
These human details are possible in any form of writing. And LLMs struggle to replicate them because they lack genuine human experience. They’ve never endured pain and suffering.
The ecstasy of a first kiss. Or the birth of a child.
Even if your writing is not personal, it must still be informed by your personal experiences. Otherwise, what are we doing here?
Our massive advantage against AI is our real world human experience. How we move through this world and react to its ever-changing complexities shapes us. We need to tap into that energy more to elevate our writing and work product to distinguish it from AI.
It’s never been a better time to write personal essays
While the world gets crushed under the weight of AI slop that proliferates across the internet daily (and increasingly on short-form video), don’t try to compete. Adapt in a way where AI cannot compete. Your expertise is in yourself.
Personal writing isn’t for everyone. For most of my life I avoided it. Hell, just three years ago I self-published an autobiographical fiction novel under a pseudonym for fear it would hurt future career prospects or people would think of me differently.
Personal writing exposes us. Some details or opinions and perspectives are probably best left unsaid. But that doesn’t mean we don’t all have great personal essays in us.
I’m writing one on how it’s been four years now since I quit my corporate job. I think it’s shaping up to be a great essay because only I can tell that story. It’s also highly relatable and (hopefully) valuable to anyone considering a career change, stay-at-home parent life, and the challenges of being “the man of the house” while my wife is the main breadwinner.
That’s the type of personal storytelling that AI will never be able to replicate unless it can get some real life experience. It reminds me of the famous Robin Williams monologue from Good Will Hunting where he reminds Will that he’s just a kid. Will can read all about the Sistine Chapel, for example, but until he visits and smells the place (which surprisingly doesn’t smell like much!), he won’t truly understand its beauty.
In that example, Will is the LLM. A genius. A prodigy. Capable of thinking, processing, and analyzing complex material better than most. But he’s flawed in that he has little to no life experience just like a LLM. (How’s that for a human metaphor?!)
Celebrate your flaws
I think one of the most beautiful features of humanity is that we’re flawed. There is beauty in the imperfections. The stories of redemption. Finding inspiration in the pain. Overcompensating for a lack of skill elsewhere.
AI has a cursory understanding of this, but it’s too damn perfect. Never any typos. Never any misaligned sentence structures. Too pretty, too pristine, too perfect.
Occasionally, I want fragments. Random words. Unconventional prose. Sure, throw in a typo or two. Let me know a human wrote it.
Perhaps that will be our code in the future. The discreet typo or sentence fragment to signal humanity.
Like the impressionist painters reacting to photography, us writers should be empowered to react to AI writing with more creativity. Maybe we experiment with the medium of writing itself. Adopt new ways of stringing words together. Composing sentences. Structuring paragraphs. Telling stories.
AI excels in a world of rules, parameters, and models. Humans excel in the abstract, the undefined spaces, and the weird.
Celebrate your “weird”
Now is the time to dig into your weird idiosyncrasies and make them dance on the page. Keep it somewhat reasonable, of course, but there has never been a better time to embrace your weirdness. Which basically just means different or unconventional.
Why was David Bowie so popular and influential? Because like a purple cow, nobody had seen anyone quite like him before. His alter-ego Ziggy Stardust was mind-blowing.
Find your inner David Bowie. My brain draws “weird” connections all the time — some fail to land, while others surprise and delight readers and viewers. Which is, in part, how one of my Instagram reels gained some 366k views and counting. The comment section loved how I compared Tokyo to Tim Duncan and Hong Kong to Allen Iverson. It was unexpected. It was kind of weird. Who has compared Asian cities to NBA basketball players?
I was unsure before pressing publish, but I pressed it anyways. Now, this won’t work all the time, but unless we’re willing to practice publicly in the “weird zone” we’ll be playing basketball against AI with one hand tied behind our backs. We must unleash our full human expressive potential.
Will AI win the writing competition?
I have hope for humanity in an AI world. I trust writers will carve out their place. Same for filmmakers, knowledge workers, and many back office functions.
Humans are social animals. We crave human connection. And human storytelling that helps make sense of the human condition. Or stories that add a unique perspective to this complicated and often cruel world.
But like the photographers of the 19th century, we must resist putting down our brushes. No matter our art or craft or profession. We must adapt. Push forward in a more creative way.
It has the makings of the next impressionist renaissance. We just have to dare to pick up a brush.
Thank you for reading. For my latest video, which explores luxury and what it means in the context of a hotel, enjoy the following about the Four Seasons Hong Kong.




First of all, that hotel room is better than any of the apartments I’ve lived in over my lifetime. Wow. Amazing. Your son really was getting into this video. He’s so cute!
As for your article, so much to unpack. I find, personally with AI, that I’ve really started editing a lot more than I used to and telling it to keep my voice, leave my words, don’t change this, don’t change that, take out the dashes. But it’s getting to be more effort doing that because it really does like to fight you and write it the way it wants to write it. So that’s gonna be tough moving forward.
Personally, I think it’s the performative writing, and performing vulnerability, and performing experiences, that are far more detrimental to writers than even AI. Because when you put a real, live experience written next to one of those pieces, you haven’t got a chance. Because those pieces are so neatly tied together, they don’t care about taking liberties and making stuff up.
It’s like watching a cinematic movie rather than reading somebody’s lived experience.
Love the Good Will Hunting example. It's one of my favorites. And 💯 you might be able to explain it, but you haven’t lived it.
"Perhaps that will be our code in the future. The discreet typo or sentence fragment to signal humanity."
This made me laugh because it's both absurd and probably true.
We're heading toward a world where perfection is suspect.
It's like how luxury brands sometimes include intentional irregularities in handmade products to prove they weren't mass-produced. The dark side to this is when AI starts learning to fake imperfection lol
Remember, they copy us.
I think the only sustainable answer is what you're already suggesting: write things only you could write. Stories so specific, connections so weird, experiences so personal that AI couldn't replicate them without actually being you.
Happy Tuesday, John....