I've been weighing up this musing for a while, somewhat influenced by the current creative power struggle between Human and A.I.!
Now, the technology itself doesn’t frighten me, but more how it’ll become over relied and depended on. We’ve been no stranger to scaremongering; change, difference and progress, but I think it’s that over reliance and complete dependence on such which frightens me more. Who programs it as opposed to the program itself etc. Having discussed aspects of this before, some parts are very much “The more things change”, but other nuances could spell out an entirely different future for all concerned.
How is this connected to the title? Well, as someone who’s aspired to tell stories (especially within Filmmaking) for a very long time, it can often feel somewhat disheartening when I finally feel like I’ve made actual progress within a professional career, only for such prospects to be quashed at the idea that Executive Producers and those higher up the food chain, could or would rather commission stories wholly and solely automated by A.I. and algorithms than a Human who could implement such technology into their pre-established writing skills. Or it could help them develop such if new to it all.
Having tried Chat GPT myself, it makes me wish that such software had existed whilst I was studying at University. No, not for essays! Granted, I personally wouldn’t take the first creative idea that it feeds me for gospel (you get out as much as you put in with it), but for those days of Writer’s Block and Analysis Paralysis, it’s an excellent springboard that can help you make sense of those rough ideas, and somewhat assists with articulating the intangible that floats around inside your head. Albeit robotically, but you then take the next step of a to-and-fro process, to subsequently develop and truly flesh out what’s been lodged in your mind. Cutting out the middleman and endless hours of procrastination.
That’s how I’ve used it anyway. Never for Covering Letters or this Blog. Though it wouldn’t surprise me if you thought any of my writing appeared robotic or cut-and-paste!
More disappointment than fear clouds my thoughts at the notion that “A robot’s stealing my job!”, despite perpetually being 'in-between'. My mind then decides to recount how I’ve always felt late to the party with more than just career opportunities.
Because I spent most of my childhood with developmental and speech delays, the majority of my memories of the 1990’s are of; Child Psychologist, Physiotherapist and Speech Therapy appointments. Special Needs groups too! Yes, there are fragments of remembering certain commercials and moments (with the additional privilege of siblings for company), but a lot of it was trying to make sense of the noise and confusion around me, often feeling left behind whilst games of Bulldog were being banned in the playground.
Ok, bad example. I don’t think anyone misses having their head caved in by tarmac Rugby tackles!
The point is, I’m no stranger to feeling like I’ve always had to play catch up. Working out what everybody else knows and is aware about later than everyone else. Not just with trends, or what everybody’s currently binge-watching, but with life in general. The small steps I take up this hypothetical staircase can feel pointless, when I'm already halfway up, as the newly installed escalator to my left has dozens of people sail passed me, up and beyond. Do I go back down the stairs and join them? Or carry on up? Especially when the sort of stories I aspire to tell garner next to no interest, in comparison to the flaming behemoths at the box-office. A yardstick I've never dreamt of comparing or measuring myself against!
There’s no fear of missing out. Simply frustration. For instance, I’ve been struggling to learn how to drive for the past 5 years at a time where the cost of insuring and owning a Car has reached unprecedented heights. Each failed test attempt feeding into such complex thoughts that rattle around in that space between my ears. Hardly helped by my financial situation. Aware money can't buy happiness, but it does help!
Though I managed to earn my Motorcycle Licence in my early 20's at a time others learnt how to drive, it would be preferable to be able to fit more than just a couple of bags of shopping within the given spaces. Different responsibilities these days.
Aware, that I once remarked that my life is; “Simply on pause.”, it would be nice to not feel complete displacement or more reasons to feed into this in-built Learned Helplessness, every time I’m able to ‘press play.’
But some things such as the exponential growth of science are out of our control. We can’t stop such a trajectory, and regardless of how it will end, or where we will all end up, we all have to find ways to cope with the forever updating and upscaling shiny tools and toys on display around us there for us to make what we will of them. For better, or for worse.
I’m pretty sure I will reach the top of those stairs one day. If nothing waits for me at the top as whatever was there has already packed up and left, I’ll laugh and move on. That’s usually been the case before. Sod's Law and all that. I’m hopeful however, there is home for my creativity somewhere. The limited skills that I aspire to bring to the table in between everything else. Be it this blog, or the ideas and scripts that I tinker with in between. We all eventually find a place.
You may seldom find me at parties these days, or perhaps I’m there but in the kitchen. But regardless of if you’re embracing or repelling the new sights and sounds of the now, as long as there’s some semblance of; contentment, fulfilment or enrichment in your life, does it matter if you’re late or even there with everyone else at all?