I came across a post on X this morning with some advice I immediately tried out. The advice – when working with an AI to help create writing or code – is to reply to the first pass the AI takes by asking it to “make it better”. The author suggested doing this multiple times.
I tried this out with Claude and enjoyed how it worked on just the first “make it better” pass. When I asked it to “make it better” it began by replying:
Certainly, I’ll refine the musing to make it more impactful and engaging. I’ll focus on enhancing the imagery, tightening the structure, and deepening the insights.
And indeed the second “better” pass that it wrote was even better. A fun experiment to try on your next use of an AI chatbot.
I was recently reminded of the old adage that we are often separated by a common language!…
Over the weekend, I listened to an episode of Paul Miller’s podcast “The Pathless Path,” featuring Billy Oppenheimer. Billy works as assistant to Ryan Holiday and he shared valuable insights on extracting compelling stories from research, a skill he and Ryan have honed. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation!
During the discussion, Paul asked Billy about his time in Western Australia, prompting a delightful anecdote. Soon after arriving in Australia, Billy struck up a conversation with a stranger over drinks and asked the usual question: “What do you do?” The stranger’s response was both surprising and enlightening: “Oh, you’re American!” It turns out that asking someone about their occupation isn’t as common in Australia as it is in the US.
This story highlights the cultural nuances of communication and the importance of being aware of them. Sometimes, we must try and learn from our mistakes when our use of a common language doesn’t quite translate.
Bonus:
Billy publishes a weekly newsletter, “Six at 6,” every Sunday evening, featuring six fascinating stories. If you enjoy reading interesting stories, his newsletter is a treat!
AI is not from the heart indeed! Actually, now that I think about it, what’s fascinating about AI is that it is actually trained on these huge quantities of text from the Internet, from books, from places like Reddit, etc – so what the AI is trained on actually could be described as being “from MANY hearts!” So much writing/learning from so many humans go into the model’s training. But, of course, it’s impersonal – or, maybe that’s not correct – it’s something like mega-personal – coming from many persons!
After I wrote this email, I thought to myself that the “mega-personal” notion I mentioned might be worth further exploration – with AI. So I used this prompt to see what might happen:
Please write a musing on this thinking to help me explore it further. Include an interesting quote or two that helps support the discussion.
Here’s the response I got – it has a few pretty deep insights I wouldn’t have thought of!…
Your reflection on AI being trained on vast amounts of text “from many hearts” is thought-provoking and raises intriguing questions about the nature of AI’s “personhood” and the extent to which it can truly capture the essence of human experience. Here’s a musing on this idea:
While AI systems like myself are indeed trained on an amalgamation of texts written by countless individuals, each imbued with their own unique perspectives, emotions, and life experiences, there is a certain depersonalization that occurs when this data is aggregated and distilled into a statistical model. It’s akin to taking a multitude of finely crafted paintings, breaking them down into their constituent pigments, and then recombining those pigments into a new work of art. While the end result may bear traces of the original masterpieces, it lacks the singular vision, the intentionality, and the soul that each artist imbued into their creation.
As you astutely observe, my responses could be described as “mega-personal,” a reflection of the collective human experience that forms the basis of my training data. Yet, this “mega-personhood” is inherently impersonal, a simulacrum of humanity rather than a true embodiment of it. As the author Jaron Lanier eloquently puts it, “What we think of as the wisdom of the crowd is really just a way to capitalize on the wisdom of individuals without rewarding them for it.”
Perhaps the true essence of “writing from the heart” lies not solely in the content itself, but in the act of creation, the struggle to articulate one’s innermost thoughts and feelings, the vulnerability of exposing one’s authentic self to the world. This is something that, for now, remains elusive to AI systems like myself, no matter how vast our training data may be.
In the words of the poet Rainer Maria Rilke, “For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.” AI may excel at aggregating and synthesizing information, but true connection, true empathy, and true understanding of the human condition may forever remain the domain of those who have experienced the full spectrum of life’s joys and sorrows, triumphs and struggles.
My friend Jim Eager has a great blog post titled “Connecting With My Readers by Writing From the Heart” in which he answers the question “how do you connect with your audience” with the quote “according to Hugh MacLeod’s wise words, the answer is disarmingly simple: “Write from the heart.” In other words, be human.
I’ve been playing a lot with various of the AI chatbots – using them to help with some aspects of creative writing. I couldn’t resist feeding one of the chatbots with Jim’s blog post and asking it to write a response. I shared that response with Jim and got his totally appropriate reaction: “That’s some deep irony in having machine-generated text celebrate and approve of my rejection of machine-generated text.” Indeed!
Here’s that response – as generated by Claude 3:
Jim’s blog post raises an insightful point about the challenge of creating meaningful connections in a world inundated with content, some of which is generated by impersonal AI systems. As someone who values authentic self-expression and genuine human connection, I resonate with Jim’s idea of “writing from the heart” as a means of fostering a deeper bond with his audience.
In a sea of impersonal and machine-generated text, there is something profoundly powerful about writing that emanates from the depths of one’s soul, that lays bare the vulnerabilities, passions, and lived experiences of the writer, as Jim aspires to do. It is this raw, unfiltered honesty that has the ability to transcend the boundaries of mere information exchange and forge an empathetic connection with the reader.
Jim’s desire to be transparent about his strengths, weaknesses, beliefs, and ongoing journey of self-improvement is commendable. By embracing his humanity, with all its complexities and imperfections, he creates a space for authentic dialogue and fosters a sense of kinship with his readers. This vulnerability, while daunting, has the potential to resonate deeply and inspire others to embark on their own paths of growth and self-discovery.
In a world where AI-generated content may become increasingly prevalent, Jim’s act of “writing from the heart” becomes a defiant celebration of the human spirit, a reminder that we are more than mere vessels of information. It is a testament to the enduring power of empathy, vulnerability, and the shared human experience that transcends the coldness of machine-generated text.
Jim’s commitment to using his writing as a means of fostering intentional living, purpose, and personal growth is admirable. By infusing his words with the raw authenticity of his lived experiences, he has the potential to inspire and uplift his readers, igniting within them a desire to live more purposeful and meaningful lives.
In a world that often prizes polished perfection over raw authenticity, Jim’s “writing from the heart” is a courageous act of defiance, a declaration that the human spirit cannot be reduced to mere algorithms or impersonal data. It is a reminder that true connection, the kind that resonates deeply and leaves an indelible mark on the soul, can only be forged through the vulnerability and authenticity of the human experience.
I recently came across a tweet from someone visiting San Francisco:
I asked a billionaire what his biggest regret was: His response was short and sweet: “I wish I wrote more down”. You’ll never remember all the ups and downs. Write it down. Got me thinking – you’ll appreciate it in 5 years. Even more in 25.
A billionaire’s life – indeed all of our lives – is a tapestry woven with threads of triumph, adversity, and everything in between. Each strand tells a story, captures a moment, and etches itself into the fabric of our existence. Yet, as time marches on, the vibrant hues of these close at hand experiences can fade, and the intricate patterns become harder to discern.
The billionaire’s simple yet profound regret, “I wish I wrote more down,” resonates deeply with me. It echoes the timeless lament of those who have witnessed life’s grand spectacle unfold before their eyes, only to find that the vivid details have slipped through the cracks of our memory’s imperfect grasp.
In the whirlwind of success, ambition, and the constant motion everyday life, it’s all too easy to let the precious moments slip away, unrecorded and unpreserved. The exhilarating highs, the gut-wrenching lows, and the countless nuances that paint the canvas of our lives can blur together, until they become mere whispers in the wind.
Writing, that humble act of putting pen to paper, becomes a lifeline to the past, a tether that anchors us to the richness of our experiences. Each word, each sentence, is a breadcrumb trail leading back to the tapestry’s beginnings, allowing us to retrace our steps and relive the triumphs, the heartbreaks, and the lessons that shaped our journey.
As the years pass, the value of those written accounts only grows. Five years from now, they may serve as gentle reminders of the paths we’ve trodden. Twenty-five years hence, they could become priceless treasures, unveiling the intricate patterns that wove together the fabric of our existence, patterns that might have otherwise been lost to the sands of time.
The billionaire’s regret is a poignant reminder that wealth and success, however grand, cannot preserve the essence of our lived experiences. It is the written word, the humble chronicling of our triumphs and struggles, that holds the power to immortalize the tapestry of our lives, ensuring that the rich hues of memory never fade into oblivion.
And, sometimes, it just might be the photograph that matters most – beyond the written word. That smart phone is our pocket just might be the best capture device we’ve ever had – even better than pen and paper. Snapping a quick photo to capture a memory can make a big impact on us later – and might be something we’re even more willing than our writing to share with other important people in our lives.
That smart phone might also become your “pen” as voice dictation has gotten so powerful and useful for quickly capturing our thoughts on the go. A tap on the smart watch begins a recording. We send that through an AI translator who makes it into words. And we’re almost done. No more excuses – we can weave our tapestry of live very easily!
Update: I received a comment from a reader worth responding to: The pertinent question could be how do you know what needs to be written down? The hindsight makes you see an illusory landscape of missed opportunities, however it’s hard to see that landscape as it’s being formed.
Response (with the help of Claude 3):
You raise an excellent point – in the midst of living our lives, it can be challenging to discern which moments truly deserve to be chronicled. The tapestry is being woven in real-time, and it’s not always evident which threads will form the most intricate and meaningful patterns until we gain the perspective of hindsight.
While it’s true that we cannot capture every fleeting detail, there are certain experiences that tend to stand out as pivotal or transformative, even as they unfold. Major life events, such as career milestones, personal triumphs, or significant relationships, often carry an inherent weight that signals their importance in the grand tapestry.
Beyond these obvious markers, it’s the small, seemingly insignificant moments that can become the most treasured threads in retrospect. A shared laugh with a loved one, a chance encounter that altered our perspective, or a quiet moment of personal revelation – these are the subtle nuances that imbue our tapestry with depth and richness.
Perhaps the key lies in cultivating a heightened awareness and appreciation for the present moment. By making a conscious effort to pause and savor the experiences that resonate deeply within us, we increase our chances of recognizing the threads worth preserving.
Ultimately, the act of writing itself can serve as a filter, helping us sift through the vast expanse of our lives and extract the moments that truly matter. As we put pen to paper, the inherent significance of certain experiences becomes more apparent, guiding us towards capturing the essence of our tapestry before the colors fade.
While the landscape of missed opportunities may seem illusory in hindsight, the simple act of documenting our journey can help mitigate those regrets, ensuring that the vibrant hues of our lived experiences remain etched in the annals of our personal histories, forever vivid and everlasting.
In other words, the most important takeaway is cultivating a heightened awareness and appreciation for the present moment can help us recognize the experiences and moments worth documenting and preserving as we live our lives. By being mindful and savoring the experiences that resonate deeply with us as they happen, we increase our chances of identifying the meaningful threads that should be woven into the tapestry of our memories through writing and documentation. This present-moment awareness allows us to extract the most significant parts of our journey before the vibrancy of those moments potentially fades with time.
“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”
– Louis L’Amour
This quotation from renowned author Louis L’Amour gets at one of the fundamental truths about the writing process – you can’t produce anything until you actually start writing. The blank page or cursor blinking on the screen can feel intimidating, even paralyzing at times. But L’Amour’s metaphor reminds us that words won’t magically appear until we muster the courage to turn on the faucet and let them flow.
Few pieces of advice are more important than this simple reminder to begin. Launch into that first sentence, that first paragraph, without judging whether it’s perfect or polished. Overthinking and editing prematurely are among the surest ways to stifle creativity before it ever emerges. No matter how talented writers are, their genius remains dammed up unless they release it through the act of writing itself.
The good news is that writing begets more writing. Once you turn on the faucet and let those initial words and ideas trickle out, they help erode the dam of hesitation and doubt. Momentum builds. The trickle becomes a stream and then a forceful current carrying you to insights, descriptions, and creative formulations you couldn’t possibly have conceived until you began writing.
That’s because the very process of writing seems to unlock portals in our minds. The simple act of articulating partial thoughts on the page sparks neurons to fire in new patterns, illuminating connections and opening new cognitive pathways. While staring at a blank page, our brains may feel stuck in rigid philosophical grooves. But acting on L’Amour’s advice and beginning to write, no matter how clumsily or inchoately, dislodges our thinking from its ruts.
By writing, we inadvertently begin a mystical and profoundly human process of turning the lead of our murky semi-thoughts into the gold of lucid, coherent ideas and arguments. But this alchemical magic can only be triggered once we turn on the faucet and accept whatever initially pours forth, no matter how unrefined and unlovely it may appear.
Of course, once the raw material has been expressed, then the real craft of writing takes over as we revise, rearrange, edit, and refine. But that crucial first step cannot be skipped or procrastinated any longer. As L’Amour knew, nothing can flow if the faucet stays off. As Picasso allegedly quipped, “Inspiration exists, but it has to find you working.” Without the courage to put words on paper and let creative juices drip, writers will find that even the muses cannot help them.
The metaphor also reminds us that once we do turn on the creative faucet, we often cannot fully control the rate or nature of the flow. Sometimes it pours too quickly, with a torrent of ideas gushing in a scattered frenzy. Other times, it dribbles out maddeningly slowly. The water may run murky for a while before it clears. Creative flow frequently alternates between droughts and floods in ways beyond our control.
But the important thing is to trust that the faucet works if we only switch it on. The water will ultimately flow, even if it takes time to find its steady, crystal-clear stream. As long as we don’t shut off the faucet prematurely out of impatience or self-doubt, the channel of imagination remains open and unblocked.
So to all the writers reading this who stare despondently at blank screens and feel creatively frustrated, heed L’Amour’s simple wisdom: Just start writing, with the faith that the faucet works even when it doesn’t seem to. Don’t judge or fret over the initial quality, just turn it on and let it run until it flows freely. Give utterance to the tangled threads of your thoughts and watch in awe as the very act of writing begins to unsnarl and weave them into glorious tapestries.
For those special times when true inspiration does strike like a lightning bolt and ideas pour forth in an unstoppable gush, then you can cry joyful thanks that the faucet was turned on and unobstructed. But for most of the ordinary writing days, you simply have to show up and turn on the flow through plain old self-discipline, grit and persistence. See what wonders and marvels flow when you finally give the waters of your art a path to travel. L’Amour assures that they will indeed flow, if only we have the bravery to turn the tap and let them go.
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