Robots Write Better Poetry Than You
Op-ed written by Dash Reimer
Well, ‘better’ is a relative term but it feels a lot less relative when we look at the statistics. While the numbers will fluctuate, studies have found that only about 9% of Americans (it would be great to have Canadian data, but alas) read at least 1 poem in the last year (1). Of those poetry readers, it has also been found that people prefer (in a blind study) AI poetry to human poetry and in fact think that AI poetry seems more human than the actual human-written poetry (2).
When I stumble across these studies and reflect on my profession as a poet I usually have to stop and wonder what the point is of it all. Why continue to pour yourself on to a page when the few people that do enjoy my art form would likely prefer to have a computer program hand deliver them a poem anyways? The simplest response is that self-expression carries value for our internal emotional processes regardless of how it is received externally. However, many of us write in the hopes of being heard. So how does that factor into our coming age of customized AI fan-fic television where we can reshape every story we consume into our own image?
This Op-Ed could have been, in some part, written by ChatGPT and the likelihood that you could tell the difference is almost negligible. Computer programs have been able to craft new orchestra compositions in the style of famous historical composers for years now (3). That new viral pop song from one of your favourite artists could be AI or a genuine original and we haven’t taken the time to figure out which it is yet (4). It’s not uncommon that I’ll see friends of mine on Facebook from an older generation reposting an AI video of an Orca that becomes friends with a sailor as if it is live news footage. The point being that the way we currently consume the vast majority of media only gives us so much room to utilize the media literacy that schools these days are so desperately trying to learn how to teach. So where does that leave us as our ability (or desire) to discern between human created art and programmed art diminishes more and more?
The first, most obvious, consequence is that the ability for artists to be able to make a livelihood off of their art will decrease as AI programs cannibalize and repurpose (without compensation) any art it can find. It would be wonderful to not have to consider money in the process of creating new works of art but unfortunately we don’t yet live in a country with Universal Basic Income so these money worries will continue to be a part of our creative process for now. Another consequence could be that the effectiveness of art to actually create change and community (or change through community) will diminish as our art is consumed and created in an increasingly individualized way. And in what world is our Google AI Assistant going to help give us the tools for us to get any liberation from the surveillance state that companies like Google have us under?
However, even past all the other un-mentioned consequences from this descent into our AI generated fixations, I do believe that this will start to push the pendulum so far one way that hopefully we’ll see a growing desire for something that is really and truly human. One of the few things that I cannot imagine a robot ever accurately replicating is in-person community.
I want to hold my partner’s hand while I watch a struggling community
theatre production of Veggie Tales. I want to perform at a poetry slam and
see my ex in the audience and feel a little bit self conscious about the things
I was planning to say. I want to sit at the late night open mic and listen to the
solo bass player with a huge personality do a whole set of solo Slipknot
covers. I want to walk by the river and wander into a crowd of Salsa dancers
and get a little bamboozled for a moment. I want to sit in my friend’s living
room and drink cheap wine and try to remember together how to play
Christmas songs on the piano. I want to frame the 3 line poem about a river
that a 4th grader in Beauval wrote and told me I could keep. I want to live a
life so steeped in love that it collects all of the scrappy and mismatched art
that naturally overflows from our simple and lovely lives.
I want to be tender in a room full of friends.
I want to be frustrated in a bar full of punks and metal heads.
I want to be a little shocked at the poetry that someone’s grandma just read on the open mic.
I want to feel things alongside you all,
so messily and closely
that I can physically reach out
and hold your hand.
Because in the end
it is not the robot’s fault.
Our robots are doing their very best
to do what we asked.
Our robots hope
we are pleased
with what they’ve made
for us.
It is the owner:
of the robot and all
of its proprietary content
that hopes we’ll be stuck
alone
in our bedrooms
and bathrooms
and cars
and basements
while still feeling like
we’re reaching out
and touching humanity
through our screen.
After all, there’s money
to be made (off) of isolation.
So come with me and listen to my shitty first draft poetry at the open mic.
Maybe my friend’s friend with the harmonica will come through for a solo.
Maybe we’ll just spend an evening sitting next to each other,
our knees just about touching.
Maybe then I’ll finally feel like my words get to join
that great cloud of breath that we all breathe together.
SOURCES
1) https://www.arts.gov/stories/blog/2023/new-survey-reports-size-poetrys-audience-streamingincluded
2) https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-024-76900-1
3) https://www.sciencefocus.com/news/ai-beethovens-symphony
4) https://www.npr.org/2023/04/21/1171032649/ai-music-heart-on-my-sleeve-drake-the-weeknd
