Generative AI has challenged our long-standing belief that the process of natural language generation is unique to the human mind. We have always known that computers can perform complex mathematical calculations, surpassing human capabilities in this domain. However, mathematics is often perceived as a rational discipline, naturally compatible with how computers function.
Even in programming, we have accepted that humans must “adjust” to communicate with machines. This is why programming languages have evolved—to serve as bridges between human logic and machine execution. Programming, in this sense, functions similarly to mathematical symbols and equations, allowing humans to interact with computers through structured and predefined rules.
However, the rise of generative AI has shifted this perception dramatically. For the first time, it appears that computers—more specifically, AI—can manage natural language in a way that closely mirrors human language use. Instead of humans learning to communicate with machines, it is now the machines that have learned to communicate with us.
How AI Handles Language
At the core of this transformation is the large language model (LLM), powered by the transformer architecture. This breakthrough enables AI to process information in a way that resembles how our neural networks function. Once the model reaches a certain threshold in data processing, a qualitative shift occurs, allowing it to generate human-like language with remarkable fluency.
Although the statistical mechanisms behind AI’s word prediction are well understood, the leap from a simple next-word prediction to what feels like genuine thought is puzzling. It seems intuitive and counterintuitive at the same time.
This resemblance to human cognition becomes more apparent when we reflect on our own use of language. When we engage in conversation or write, each word we choose determines the next, shaped by context and past experience. AI’s deep learning models essentially mimic this process, reinforcing the idea that our own brains may function in a similar way.
Creativity and Originality
This realization leads us to question what truly defines human creativity. If both humans and AI determine “the next word” based on prior context and probability, does that mean creativity is merely an advanced form of pattern recognition?
Traditionally, we have viewed creativity as the act of generating something entirely new—something that emerges from nothing. However, if we examine our own creative process, we may find that even human originality stems from the continuous interplay of past experiences, knowledge, and contextual cues. This suggests that our creative output, like AI-generated content, is fundamentally shaped by what came before.
For instance, when I write, I often feel as though the words themselves guide me. A single sentence influences the next. A completed paragraph directs the flow of the next one. An entire article inspires the next writing project. In this way, the creative process unfolds not through a radical leap into the unknown, but through a natural, almost inevitable progression—just as AI determines the next step based on the existing sequence.
This challenges our long-held belief that creativity is an entirely human domain. If we strip away the romanticized notion of inspiration, the mechanics of creative thinking and AI-driven text generation may not be so different after all.
Our Pre-Trained Data
One of the defining aspects of AI’s intelligence is the sheer scale of its pre-trained data. AI models appear remarkably knowledgeable because they have been trained on vast amounts of text from the internet, making them capable of retrieving and synthesizing information instantly.
If we apply this analogy to human intelligence, we can think of our lived experiences as our own form of pre-trained data. A person who has spent fifty years in the world has accumulated a wealth of experiences, interactions, and knowledge. These are stored not just in conscious memory but also in subconscious and even collective unconscious layers, as Carl Jung suggested.
Unlike AI, we do not memorize and retrieve information with the same efficiency. We have not read every page of Wikipedia, nor can we instantly access all academic literature. However, we have something AI lacks—a deep, embodied experience of life. Our knowledge is stored not just as facts but as emotions, instincts, and intuitive understandings shaped by personal encounters, struggles, and moments of insight.
If humans possess a unique creative edge over AI, it likely resides in this deeply ingrained experiential knowledge—an aspect of intelligence that cannot be quantified merely by the volume of stored data.
Human Creativity
This perspective raises a fascinating question: Is it possible that human creativity is connected to something greater than individual memory? Could our minds be, metaphorically speaking, thin-client devices that access a vast, universal memory?
While this idea may sound mystical, it resonates with various philosophical and spiritual traditions. The notion that human consciousness is linked to a larger collective knowledge has long been explored in religious and psychological thought. If there is truth to this, it would explain why writing can sometimes feel revelatory—why insights emerge unexpectedly, as if received rather than generated.
Writers throughout history have described this sensation. The apostle Paul, for example, claimed that the Holy Spirit guided his words. Many who practice journaling or freewriting have experienced moments where their own writing seems to reveal answers they had not consciously sought. Were these answers produced by the writer, or did the act of writing grant access to something beyond individual cognition?
Writing in the Age of AI
In an era where AI can generate high-quality content, some fear that human writing will become obsolete. If AI surpasses even the best writers in productivity and efficiency, what remains of the human role in creative expression?
The answer lies in recognizing that writing is not merely about producing content—it is a profound act of self-exploration, meaning-making, and connection. Writing is not just about what we create; it is about how we engage with our own thoughts, emotions, and deeper understanding of the world.
This is why practices like Morning Pages (popularized by Julia Cameron) and Freewriting (advocated by Peter Elbow) emphasize the importance of writing as a personal and cognitive exercise. These approaches are not about crafting polished prose but about tapping into the creative depths of the mind.
At a surface level, both AI and humans generate text through predictive processes. But human writing extends beyond statistical word selection—it is a pathway to deeper insight, intuition, and even spiritual revelation. AI may be an incredible tool for generating content, but it does not replace the unique, introspective experience of writing.
Writing for Connection and Discovery
If writing were only about efficiency, AI would indeed render human authors unnecessary. But writing is more than that. It is a means of accessing something beyond ourselves—whether that is personal reflection, unconscious knowledge, or even the “memory of the universe.”
In the age of AI, we are not competing with machines for productivity. Instead, we are rediscovering the true meaning of writing. For those who seek only efficiency, AI is already a powerful tool. But for those who write to think, to feel, and to connect, writing remains an irreplaceable human endeavor.
The most important things we should never stop doing in life are reading, writing, and counting our blessings. If you believe in the power of writing—not just as a task but as a gateway to creativity and insight—then I wholeheartedly encourage you to write every day.
Image: A photo captured by the author.
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