Lately, there’s been a spate of revelations about AI users slipping slop-assisted work past human editors.
First there was Shy Girl, the horror novel pulled by its publisher once they realized it had been largely AI-generated. Editors failed to see the slop, and many readers were duped too. Emily Hughes, author of Horror for Weenies, published an excellent reflection on the deeper issues at play, as well as the personal embarrassment of falling for it. But it’s likely now that all of us have been tricked at some point, and it’s not just because the software is improving. As Hughes wrote, “remember that LLMs write like that because people write like that.” In other words, the slop is coming from inside the house.
Then there was more discourse around Washington Post columnist Megan McArdle’s admission on X that she frequently leans on AI software in her writing process. McArdle’s usage struck many (myself included) as being well beyond what’s acceptable for a professional writer. AI has been integrated into so many digital processes that keeping writing completely clean may be actually impossible. And even AI skeptics will give a pass to using software for some of our most thankless chores. But McArdle goes much farther than this, using digital tools to “generate pushback on my column thesis, suggest trims when I’m over my word count, sharpen podcast interview questions, and perform a final fact check on columns and editorials.” She claims this doesn’t interfere with “the main job: reading, thinking, and writing,” but I think it’s reasonable to counter that each and every step of reading, drafting, and rewriting constitutes thinking—writing is thinking, and allowing generative software to take over any part of the writing process compromises it. I imagine The Washington Post won’t think of this as an issue, though, since both McArdle and the Post have been frequent AI boosters.
And just the other day, The New York Times announced they’ll no longer be working with the freelancer Alex Preston after he was caught using an LLM to write a book review, according to The Wrap. After a reader flagged that Preston’s writing copied language from a Guardian review, Preston “admitted he used an AI tool to help draft the piece and that he failed to catch the Guardian material before the paper published the review.” The Times‘s staff also missed it.
In each of these cases, a tech company outsmarted a human—or several—either by producing text convincing enough to pass the smell test, or by creating and marketing a service that convinced a writer to offload part of their labor. The way out of this bind is going to require all of us to get better at spotting the output of AI, and to continue shaming those who get caught red keyboarded.
I’ll admit I may overestimate my own abilities to spot AI writing, because so many of my interactions with the technology have been so underwhelming. Even AI-powered search—which is what I hear users and apologists tout most often—isn’t good at all. As an experiment, and to get a sense of what other people might be hearing about me from LLMs, I asked Gemini this simple question: “Who is James Folta?” The answers it spit out were staggeringly wrong. I tried multiple times with different phrasings, and each time there were major mistakes. The broad strokes were usually close, and the AI flattered me as a “thought leader” or “a prominent writer,” but the model ignored my personal website, hallucinated articles, incorrectly attributed other people’s writing to me, and completely omitted any of my work for Lit Hub. (Interestingly, it did pay a lot of attention to one thing: “James Folta’s take on AI is one of sharp, vocal criticism, particularly regarding its impact on creativity, media literacy, and human labor … he has written extensively about the “degrading” effects of generative Al on the internet and the arts.” That’s right, and I’ll keep arguing with the robots.)
I bring this up because the solution I so often hear is to counter AI with other software that can sniff it out, a loopy arms race that reminds me of the Simpsons gag about “a fabulous type of gorilla that thrives on snake meat.” But of course these detection programs are also unreliable, and perhaps will never get any better. Frustratingly, all of this back and forth, parry and riposte between AIs and anti-AIs will only further entrench these systems and enrich tech companies by making us beholden to them on either side of the debate.
I have to trust that if we get to together and get organized, we can find ways to push back. I’ve been part of some exciting conversations with peers about how to advocate for ourselves and our work, and I’ve been inspired by unions and other labor groups who are organizing and agitating against AI overreach. As always, solidarity is the way.
But in the meantime, if overworked editors don’t have the time to check every piece of writing, and if squeezed freelancers are turning to desperate tools to make a living, and if digital correctives are unreliable, we’re in a tough place.
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