October 2024

I'm usually reluctant to make predictions about technology, but I feel fairly confident about this one: in a couple decades there won't be many people who can write.

One of the strangest things you learn if you're a writer is how many people have trouble writing.

Doctors know how many people have a mole they're worried about; people who are good at setting up computers know how many people aren't; writers know how many people need help writing.

The reason so many people have trouble writing is that it's fundamentally difficult.

To write well you have to think clearly, and thinking clearly is hard.

I rarely predict technology, but I'm confident: in a couple decades few people will be able to write.

Writers learn how many people struggle, and they struggle because writing is fundamentally difficult: to write well you must think clearly, which is hard.

In a couple decades few people will be able to write, because writing is fundamentally difficult: to write well you have to think clearly, and that is hard.

And yet writing pervades many jobs, and the more prestigious the job, the more writing it tends to require.

These two powerful opposing forces, the pervasive expectation of writing and the irreducible difficulty of doing it, create enormous pressure.

This is why eminent professors often turn out to have resorted to plagiarism.

The most striking thing to me about these cases is the pettiness of the thefts.

The stuff they steal is usually the most mundane boilerplate — the sort of thing that anyone who was even halfway decent at writing could turn out with no effort at all.

Which means they're not even halfway decent at writing.

Till recently there was no convenient escape valve for the pressure created by these opposing forces.

You could pay someone to write for you, like JFK, or plagiarize, like MLK, but if you couldn't buy or steal words, you had to write them yourself.

And as a result nearly everyone who was expected to write had to learn how.

Not anymore.

AI has blown this world open.

Almost all pressure to write has dissipated.

You can have AI do it for you, both in school and at work.

Yet writing pervades prestigious jobs, so expectation and difficulty become opposing forces creating enormous pressure. Hence eminent professors plagiarize, and strikingly, they steal mundane boilerplate anyone halfway decent could write effortlessly.

Till recently there was no escape valve. You could pay someone, like JFK, or plagiarize, like MLK, but otherwise everyone expected to write had to learn how.

Not anymore. AI has blown this world open. Almost all pressure to write has dissipated; you can have AI do it for you.

Writing pervades prestigious jobs, and that expectation colliding with writing's difficulty creates enormous pressure, which once drove even eminent professors to petty plagiarism. AI has now dissolved nearly all of it.

The result will be a world divided into writes and write-nots.

There will still be some people who can write.

Some of us like it.

But the middle ground between those who are good at writing and those who can't write at all will disappear.

Instead of good writers, ok writers, and people who can't write, there will just be good writers and people who can't write.

Is that so bad?

Isn't it common for skills to disappear when technology makes them obsolete?

There aren't many blacksmiths left, and it doesn't seem to be a problem.

The world will divide into writes and write-nots. Some of us will still write because we like it, but the middle ground vanishes: no more ok writers, just good ones and people who can't.

Is that so bad? Skills vanish when technology makes them obsolete; few blacksmiths are left, and that's no problem.

The world will split into writes and write-nots as the middle ground vanishes. Is that so bad? Skills die out all the time when technology makes them obsolete.

Yes, it's bad.

The reason is something I mentioned earlier: writing is thinking.

In fact there's a kind of thinking that can only be done by writing.

You can't make this point better than Leslie Lamport did:

If you're thinking without writing, you only think you're thinking.

So a world divided into writes and write-nots is more dangerous than it sounds.

It will be a world of thinks and think-nots.

I know which half I want to be in, and I bet you do too.

Yes, it's bad, because writing is thinking; some thinking can only be done by writing. As Leslie Lamport put it: if you're thinking without writing, you only think you're thinking.

So the split is more dangerous than it sounds: a world of thinks and think-nots, and I know which half I want to be in.

Yes, it's bad, because writing is thinking; some thinking can only be done by writing. A world of writes and write-nots is really a world of thinks and think-nots.

This situation is not unprecedented.

In preindustrial times most people's jobs made them strong.

Now if you want to be strong, you work out.

So there are still strong people, but only those who choose to be.

It will be the same with writing.

There will still be smart people, but only those who choose to be.

This isn't unprecedented. Once jobs made people strong; now you work out, so strong people remain only by choice. The same goes for writing, and thinking.

This isn't unprecedented. Once jobs made people strong; now you work out, so strong people remain but only by choice. The same will be true of writing, and of thinking.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Ben Miller, and Robert Morris for reading drafts of this.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Ben Miller, and Robert Morris for reading drafts.

Thanks to those who read drafts.