Joseph Earp’s piece on artificial intelligence and storytelling misses the mark (29 March). He casts creativity as a kind of untouchable genius and AI as its pale imitation. But storytelling is not a solitary act of divine inspiration – it is a craft, shaped in the doing and often improved through collaboration.
Used well, AI is neither genius nor fraud. It’s a tool – like a piano is to a composer, or a chisel to a sculptor. It can’t replace vision, but it can sharpen it. In the hands of a thoughtful human, it helps reshape sentences, test rhythms, offer contrasts. It does not feel, but it can provoke feeling in the writer. It doesn’t know, but it can raise questions that lead to knowing.
Earp warns of AI’s soullessness. But the real danger is not in the machine – it’s in how we imagine its place. If we treat it as a replacement for human voice, we’ll get shallow mimicry. If we treat it as a companion in the process, we might get something deeper – a story honed through reflection, tension and risk.
To call AI “soulless” may be accurate, but it is not helpful. A piano has no soul. A chisel has no soul. But both, in the hands of a feeling person, can bring forth something luminous. Let’s not dismiss a new instrument just because it sounds unfamiliar. The soul of the story still rests with the one who plays the keys – or holds the chisel.
John Hinkley
Leongatha, Victoria, Australia