ChatGPT’s clunky version of my column lacks one key thing

Will AI chatbots ever be funny?

This is the month most people change jobs. Those who don’t, worry whether if the next wave of technology will wipe out their job and whether that wave swept while they were lounging under a cabana. Surprise! The next wave just arrived and it’s called ChatGPT.

ChatGPT threatens to do to white-collar work what email did to the mailroom or Zoom did to the conference centre. For those who have been under a cabana this summer, it’s the hot program that can write letters, academic papers, essays, media reports and – gulp – columns on command.

So, in a bid to stress-test my job and convince the editor that I am not a robot, even though I don’t always pick all the traffic lights in the pictures, I asked ChatGPT to write a column in the style of Deirdre Macken.

“As technology continues to advance and automate various aspects of our lives, it is important to consider the consequences and ethical considerations of this progress.”

Yawn. That’s not a column, that’s a school essay. Where’s the panache, the metaphors, ­alliteration, the humour? OK, I forgot to ask the chatbot for humour. Second command: write a humorous column in the style of Deirdre ­Macken.

“It’s another Monday and I’m here to bring you some lighthearted musings and a healthy dose of humour to kick off the week.”

A bit clunky. That’s not a promise I’d like to make or anyone should make, really. I read on, hoping to get a chuckle. Scroll, scroll. Or a snort. Scroll, scroll. There’s this:

“Have you seen those new home assistants that can control your entire house with just a voice command? The only problem is, my dog keeps barking at the thing and now it thinks I’m constantly asking for the weather in Moscow.”

Am I that banal? Or is it? Sure, there is something familiar about the column – the pace, the chatty tone and, if I was a high school teacher, I might give the effort seven out of 10. But my readers are less forgiving. They would know that the references are dated, the opinions are vapid and the humour is groan-worthy.

This writing program is meant to improve with use so I faff around for a while longer. It throws up the odd metaphor – “It’s like a real-life game of Tetris, except you’re in a car and the blocks are other cars” – and there are other ­attempts at humour – “and why is it that every Christmas someone burns the gravy. It’s like a holiday tradition at this point”.

As I said, groan. Overall, there is a whiff of Americanism – not least because the “writer” thinks a dog sounds like a Russian.

There is a sunniness that is cloying outside of the West Coast of the US and it has no authenticity. It reeks of robot. Authenticity is hard to ­dissect in a classroom but you know when it’s lacking.

Culture, too, is slippery, it’s more of a whiff than a word, more gist than geography. But the toughest challenge for robots is humour. ­Humour is contextual, cultural, subversive, playful, hard to explain and, so far, defies JavaScript (that last bit sounded a bit robot-ish).

Above all, humour is human. When you make a wry comment or crack a joke, you’re showing you are conscious – conscious of yourself, of your readers and of the world we all live in.

I’d include a pertinent quote from Eva Hoffman – “There is nothing like a gleam of humour to reassure you that a fellow human being is ticking inside a strange face.” But that’s the sort of thing ChatGPT would do.

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