Rage Against the Machine
Existential angst about AI is running high in the working world these days.
In my business writing courses and storytelling workshops, I hear it over and over: “ChatGPT going to take my job.” If writing is a big part of your work—if you put together creative briefs or pitches, company newsletters or annual reports or white papers—the thought has probably crossed your mind that the future might belong to the machines.
But I’m here to tell you that AI is not coming for you—if can tell a fresh, engaging story..
Because the chatbots definitely can’t do that.
As we all know by now, chatbots use predictive text to spit out a bog-standard version of whatever is called for. They can provide business communications in seconds—if what you’re after is absolutely average, boring work.
I asked ChatGPT for a series of PR pitches recently. Every single one began with, “I hope this message finds you well!”
It included the phrase “we are excited.”
It ended with some variation on “I would be delighted to further discuss.”
The dead metaphors fell like snow. Every winter pitch included some version of, “This holiday season, give the gift of…” or “with the festive season approaching.” When I asked for a pitch about a home exercise brand, it began with “elevate the holidays with…”—kind of a funny opener for a company that sells free weights, unless by “elevate” you mean “clean and jerk.”
So: ChatGPT can definitely write pitches—dull, derivative pitches that nobody wants. That’s the good news.
The bad news: lots of actual human writers aren’t doing much better.
That’s because the people producing most workplace writing are stressed-out junior staffers without great storytelling training. Many of them got their last formal writing instruction in high school or college, where they learned an essay structure that’s worse than useless for goal-oriented professional material.
They don’t know what else to do. And they’re too busy and rushed to figure it out on the fly.
So, understandably, they look for shortcuts and models. They use templates. They cut and paste. They write over other people’s work, change a word or three and hope for the best. A pitch for a new lipstick range, for example, may start life as last week’s hot new eyeliner pitch, punched up with information cut and pasted from the current client’s press release. Replace “just in time for fall sweater weather” with “just in time for spring sunshine,” add a couple of pics, and you’re done.
The result? All pitches look just like all the other pitches. All products, services and clients become…the same. Every hotel is “luxe,” and so is every scarf and every bath oil. Every new shoe colorway is “vibrant,” as is the décor at every new restaurant. It’s also “irresistible”—just like every new ice cream flavor, every new menu item, every deal.
It’s no wonder that editors don’t jump right on pitches like this. There’s zero interesting storytelling here. No clickbait, no standout idea. Nothing for a journalist to build on.
And it’s not just PR and marketing writing: this Frankenstein’s-monster-style writing is a problem for all kinds of business communications, from decks and client emails to internal comms to policy papers. They’re often dull, formulaic, fill-in-the-blanks products—the kind of stuff that ChatGPT excels at.
The kind of stuff that ChatGPT can do for free, and fast, and without healthcare or vacation time.
So how can you do better? Break out of the box? Make yourself more valuable than a bot? Tell a great business narrative that gets noticed and get results?
Before you start writing, ask yourself questions. Lots of questions.
For example:
What’s interesting about this product? What’s weird, quirky, strange?
What would make this a good fit for my ideal publication outlet?
How is this service different from everything else in the category?
What am I saying about this policy issue that’s different from what others have already said?
How can I help my client see that we’re the best fit?
Write down every question you can think of. Don’t worry if it’s smart or relevant or interesting. You can make choices later, once you’ve generated lots of stuff.
You might jot down some answers in response to your questions. And you might use those answers to generate more questions. And so on and so forth.
I know: this approach seems like it might slow you down. Who has the time? But trust me: it will definitely be worth it. Here’s why:
When you ask yourself questions, you’re much more likely to find a great angle or thesis or idea. Because:
instead of writing to the boring typical middle (to the template, to the “insert product name here” bot), you’re writing to the differentiator. The stand-out thing. The unusual. The unexpected. Even—dare I say it?—the authentic.
That’s what lets you cut through the noise.
Starting with questions is not easy. It requires you to sit with what you don’t know instead of beginning on the comfortable terra firma of the familiar. It takes practice, and it takes technique.
But if you can tell a compelling story about something unexpected and interesting, and do it with fresh language, then ChatGPT’s got nothing on you.
Want to learn more about how to make your writing stand out and get results?