Never miss a VeryGoodCopy Micro-Article: **SUBSCRIBE**

I asked one of the big AI writing engines a question:

“Can you describe meeting your first born child?”

The AI thought for a moment, then it produced 88 words:

Meeting my first born child was a truly magical experience. It was a moment of joy and excitement that I will never forget. When I held my newborn for the first time, I felt a wave of love and warmth that I had not experienced before. I was filled with so much joy and pride that I was now a parent. My little one looked so peaceful and content in my arms. Seeing my baby for the first time was an unforgettable moment that I will cherish forever.

I read it, then wrote my own description (limiting myself to the same 88-word count):

“He’s so quiet,” I said, looking up at the nurse.

She smiled behind her mask. We all wore masks. Gowns, too. Gloves and hairnets, too.

“Is that ok?” I said. “Is it ok he’s not crying?”

(I thought healthy newborns cried.)

“It’s ok,” said the nurse, “he’s quiet but alert,” she said. “Just look at him looking at you.” I looked. “He’s looking right at you.” He was. He was looking in my eyes. “He’s saying hello,” she smiled.

“Hello,” I said. I felt like crying. “Hello, son.”

**AI can be a remarkable productivity tool.**

For example, I use AI as an instrument, an aid for sourcing and organizing ideas.

AI can give writers and copywriters the dots to help us start writing (which, often, is the hardest part).

But you know, it cannot connect the dots like we can. It can’t be personal like us, human like us. It can’t feel the gravity of a profound moment, like a birth, much less the essence of another person. These are uniquely human things. And so, AI cannot write like us. It can’t tell stories like us. It can’t. Because the specifics, the details, the granularities we collect through our lived experiences belong to us.

The Human Condition—its nuances and imperceptibles, its vastness—belongs to us.