Stop Asking Writers About “AI”

别再问作家关于“人工智能”的问题了

There are questions every person I meet asks, and I’m getting sick of answering. Worse, the newest of these questions has been severely harming my motivation to write for several years. I didn’t want to talk about this, but I’m beginning to think I need to. Hopefully, if I get this off my chest, I’ll be able to move on to writing about things I love. 我遇到的每个人都会问一些相同的问题，而我已经厌倦了回答。更糟糕的是，其中最新的一个问题在过去几年里严重损害了我的写作动力。我本不想谈论这个，但我开始觉得我必须这么做。希望在倾诉之后，我能重新开始写我热爱的东西。

The Dreaded Question

那个令人恐惧的问题

Every time I tell someone new that I’m a writer, they pause for a moment, then ask the same question: “So, what do you think about AI?” Seriously, almost every person asks this eventually. My boilerplate answer is that “I have serious technical, professional, and ethical concerns with the development and use of AI.” People rarely let me leave it there. 每当我告诉新认识的人我是一名作家时，他们总会停顿片刻，然后问出同样的问题：“那么，你怎么看人工智能？”说真的，几乎每个人最终都会问这个问题。我的标准回答是：“对于人工智能的开发和使用，我有严重的各种技术、专业和伦理方面的担忧。”但人们很少就此打住。

Having the Conversation

进行对话

Usually, I’ve actually made the effort and had the conversation. I explain that so-called “Artificial Intelligence” isn’t anywhere near the quality of writing serious authors reach. I explain that when people want to read a book, they’re really wanting to read the creation of another real person, and that you can’t relate to a machine. I explain the systemic harm the technology has already caused to my craft and what damage it’s still likely to do, with no actual benefit. 通常，我确实会努力去进行这场对话。我会解释说，所谓的“人工智能”在写作质量上远不及严肃作家所达到的水平。我会解释说，当人们想读一本书时，他们真正想读的是另一个真实的人的创作，而你无法与机器产生共鸣。我会解释这项技术已经对我的创作领域造成的系统性伤害，以及它未来可能带来的损害，而这些损害并没有带来任何实际的好处。

But I’m really, really tired of having the conversation. Because it’s the same conversation over and over and over again, usually with no actual signs that the person I’m talking to cares enough to change their mind. Often, they pivot the conversation to how they use AI. As far as I can tell, all these people really want is for me to validate them, so that they can tell people, “Yeah, even this writer I know who is critical of AI thinks my use-case is okay.” 但我真的、真的厌倦了进行这种对话。因为它总是没完没了地重复同样的内容，而且通常对方并没有表现出任何想要改变观点的迹象。他们经常会把话题转向他们自己如何使用人工智能。据我观察，这些人真正想要的只是我的认可，这样他们就可以告诉别人：“看，连我认识的这位对人工智能持批评态度的作家都觉得我的用法没问题。”

I mean, I’m not gonna tell them to their face that any claimed “use case” at all perpetuates a belief that things will get better later with AI, and that this belief itself is most of what’s causing all the problems today. I’m not going to tell someone I just met to their face that their harmless pastime is validating the creation of technology that devalues human labor and creativity for the enrichment of the 1% who are salivating at the thought of laying off all their workers to get yet another billion dollars they’ll never live long enough to spend. I’m too polite to say that to their faces. Maybe that’s my problem. Some people mean well when asking. Some people are genuinely curious to hear my view. Just asking the question, though, is the problem, for me. 我的意思是，我不会当面告诉他们，任何所谓的“用例”都在助长一种信念，即人工智能会让未来变得更好，而这种信念本身正是当今所有问题的主要根源。我不会当面告诉一个刚认识的人，他们这种看似无害的消遣，实际上是在为一种技术背书——这种技术贬低了人类的劳动和创造力，只为了让那1%的人致富，而这些人正垂涎于裁掉所有员工，好再赚取十亿美元，尽管他们根本活不到花完这些钱的那一天。我太礼貌了，说不出这种话。也许这就是我的问题所在。有些人问的时候是出于好意，有些人是真心好奇我的观点。但对我来说，提出这个问题本身就是问题所在。

The Harm of the Question

问题的伤害

When your first thought at hearing about the craft I practice is of a technology that is fundamentally incapable of making a difference to that craft and is created with the goal of devaluing my effort and hard work, that tells me that you don’t value me. When you ask me what I think about AI as if that has any actual relevance to the work I do, that tells me you don’t actually care about my work. 当你听到我从事的职业时，脑海中浮现的第一个念头竟然是一种从根本上无法对该职业产生积极影响、且旨在贬低我努力和辛勤工作的技术，这说明你并不重视我。当你问我怎么看人工智能，仿佛这与我的工作有什么实际关联时，这说明你并不真正关心我的工作。

If I tell someone I published a book after meeting them in person, I expect they would want to read it. That’s my own reaction when someone tells me about what they’ve written. If I told someone instead that I asked ChatGPT to write a book so I could put my name on it, would they actually care? Would they ask how to get a copy? Of course not. Because people want to read things that other people have written. AI is completely irrelevant to that; it isn’t a person, as much as the companies making it would like you to pretend it is. 如果我告诉刚认识的人我出版了一本书，我希望他们会想读一读。当别人告诉我他们写了什么时，我自己的反应也是如此。如果我告诉别人我让ChatGPT写了一本书，然后把我的名字挂上去，他们真的会在意吗？他们会问怎么买到副本吗？当然不会。因为人们想读的是别人写的东西。人工智能与此完全无关；它不是一个人，尽管制造它的公司很想让你假装它是。

No one cares that ChatGPT can write a novel. No one cares if the novels it writes are enjoyable to read, because that’s not why we read. But when you ask me that awful, misguided question as if you’re equating my writing with that trash, it makes me wonder if my writing actually matters. I begin to lose motivation to write. I begin wondering how truthful it is anymore to call myself a writer when I dread putting pen to paper. 没人关心ChatGPT能不能写小说。没人关心它写的小说是否好读，因为那不是我们阅读的目的。但当你问我那个糟糕且被误导的问题，仿佛将我的写作与那种垃圾等同起来时，我不禁怀疑我的写作是否真的有意义。我开始失去写作的动力。当我害怕动笔时，我开始怀疑称自己为“作家”是否还有意义。

That’s where I’ve been stuck for three years now. Some of you may have read a story or two from me, such as ”Those Who Breathe Easy” which was published last August or the series of mythology stories a few kind people have been beta reading for me, but I really haven’t been able to get much written. Every word is a struggle with my own self-doubt, fighting the worry that even if I do the work no one will care. And every time I talk myself out of that pit, a new person asks me, “So, what do you think about AI?” Please, I implore you, stop asking writers about AI. 这就是我过去三年一直陷入的困境。你们中有些人可能读过我的一两篇故事，比如去年八月发表的《那些呼吸顺畅的人》（Those Who Breathe Easy），或者一些好心人正在为我进行内测的神话系列故事，但我确实没能写出多少东西。每一个字都是在与自我怀疑作斗争，在与“即使我完成了作品也没人会在意”的担忧作斗争。而每当我把自己从那个深渊中拉出来时，又会有新的人问我：“那么，你怎么看人工智能？”拜托，我恳求你们，别再问作家关于人工智能的问题了。

My Actual Visions of the Future of Art

我对艺术未来的真实愿景

Let’s take a break from that depressing talk. Let’s talk about what I actually expect of the future. Let’s have that conversation for a minute. Now that you know what it costs me to take the thought of AI seriously even for a moment, hopefully you can actually listen and maybe accept some new ideas. Maybe you also hate AI already; this vision of the future can be a bit of hope for you. 让我们从那令人沮丧的话题中休息一下。让我们谈谈我对未来的真实期待。让我们花点时间聊聊这个。既然你已经知道认真思考人工智能会让我付出多大的代价，希望你能真正倾听，或许能接受一些新观点。也许你已经讨厌人工智能了；那么这个对未来的愿景或许能给你带来一丝希望。

AI can’t replace human art, and it never will—but, eventually, our bosses might think it can. They might fire writers, artists, and musicians. I tell this to people whenever I’m brave enough to actually have this conversation: when you fire an artist, they don’t just disappear. They’re still real people who exist in the real world, and they’re still artists. Do you seriously think writers will actually stop writing if big companies stop hiring them? When, in all of human history, has contempt from systems in power ever stopped brave people from speaking up and writing change into being? 人工智能无法取代人类艺术，永远也不会——但最终，我们的老板可能会认为它可以。他们可能会解雇作家、艺术家和音乐家。每当我鼓起勇气进行这场对话时，我都会告诉人们：当你解雇一名艺术家时，他们并不会凭空消失。他们依然是存在于现实世界中的真实的人，他们依然是艺术家。你真的认为如果大公司停止雇佣，作家们就会停止写作吗？在人类历史的长河中，权势体系的蔑视何时曾阻止过勇敢的人们发声并书写变革？

If you fire us, we’ll still be here. We’ll still be writing. We’ll still be publishing that writing, outside of the commercial systems that we’ve been constrained by until now. And, when people are given the choice between a mass market ChatGPT-written romance novel published by a major publishing house or a book that a real human being poured their heart into and then sent out into the world, which are they going to read? When you’re given the option to watch a large-budget Hollywood film ridden with clichés or an independent film put together… 如果你解雇我们，我们依然会在这里。我们依然会写作。我们依然会出版这些作品，脱离那些一直束缚我们的商业体系。而且，当人们面临选择时——是选择大出版社出版的、由ChatGPT批量生产的爱情小说，还是选择一本由真实人类倾注心血并推向世界的书——他们会读哪一本？当你面临选择时——是看一部充斥着陈词滥调的好莱坞大片，还是看一部独立制作的电影……