A.I. Pledge

Let's get things straight, right from the start

For writers and creatives alike, the rise of A.I. technologies is troubling. When generated images, music, and prose are attainable at the click of a button, they flood the system and threaten the endeavours which make us human to begin with.

Yes, they're fun. Yes, the images look cool and the music sounds great (well…I'm sure it will, soon enough). I also have no problem using them as the tools they're supposed to be; alongside art. As a source of inspiration, or to visualise something which would otherwise be impossible.

I've been a writer and professional designer for over 20 years, and I'm proud of the skills I've learned. I design all my book covers myself, from sketch to final product. But I'll happily hit Midjourney up to see a fantasy location or character I'm imagining more clearly. Or throw a bathroom image into Nano Banana to see how those tiles might look in the dream-renovation. Or use it to generate different views of my books or impossible scenes for marketing materials. Why don't I have a problem with that? Because these things are not the endpoint. They're the incidental sights along the way.

Even so, at some point a line has to be drawn, otherwise why should we even begin down that long, difficult road of learning a craft at all?

As I see it, creativity – and stories in particular – are how we connect. They're how we've passed information, lessons, ideas, and culture itself down through the ages. Indeed, the act of creation lies at the heart of the human experience.

For these reasons, I do not believe that someone who uses Sudowrite or ChatGPT to create prose is a writer, any more than I believe someone who uses Midjourney to generate images is an artist.

Using these tools as endpoints – as shortcuts to bypass the hard work, the learning, the trial and error, the failures, the growth, and the human experience that goes into creating art – is pointless. It produces a veneer of creativity without any of the substance. It creates a product with no soul.

This is why I have taken the A.I. Pledge; a commitment to my readers and fellow creatives that I will not use A.I. in any of my written works.

I want readers to know that when they pick up one of my books or read a short story, they're getting 100% human-made content. A product of a human heart and mind, plus a heck of a lot of hard work.

It takes me around two years (admittedly, sometimes longer…) to write a novel, and during that time I'm hunting for perfection. I'm crafting complex characters I want readers to resonate with and care about. I'm building worlds which (hopefully) become vehicles for excitement, intrigue, and inspiration, and plots which satisfy and delight. I'm editing and tweaking for polish and 'punch' and to make the whole thing the best it can be.

And I do all this because I want that connection with people. To express my ideas and vision, and to have someone laugh or groan on the way, or simply say 'I loved it' at the end. For me, there's no greater honour or pleasure.

For me, this decision was easy. But I've had some flak for it. Some have said that A.I. is "the future" and that I'm "missing out". That other writers are going to pump out ten books a year and I'll be lost, working away as a mire of content rises up and buries me.

I don't care.

If this is the way we want content-creation to go, then so be it. There is little I can do about the rise of generated content or people using these tools to bury people like me. But I truly believe that by doing so, these people lose. We all lose.

Following the easy, automated, A.I. path will mean that our art (all of them) will shrivel, and the human spirit will follow.

I therefore encourage any other creators out there to take the pledge as well. To stand up for human creativity and take that long, hard road. Because the alternative is a world without art. Without soul. And that's a world I don't think any of us want to live in.