Irish Examiner 17/04/2023 - A Quiet Chat GPT

AI: That used to mean something completely different. It wasn’t taking anyone’s job. Except maybe that of a bull. Or at least reducing his commute. The AI man who drove into our yard was called Jack. Jack Inseminator my father called him, continuing on the tradition of naming people after their jobs. JAI’s van was filled with all sorts of magic formula.

Speaking of clutching at straws, the new AI has everyone scrambling to explain it. This year something new has calved. ChatGPT. The word has by now drifted across your eyes somewhere and it will continue to increase in frequency until one day it’ll turn up as a plotline on Fair City. GPT stands for Generative Pre-Trained Transformer but don’t let that spoil your day. For plebs like me, Chatbot GPT means a place on the internet where you type in almost any request for a piece of writing and an AI will make it for you. Try it, ask it nearly any question or ask it write nearly anything you want. It will then reply with a not-bad-at-all version of what you were looking for. I’m serious. You could ask it to “write a tactful message in the neighbourhood whatsapp group asking people not to use thumbs up emojis as replies as some people get unreasonably offended by it.” and it will come back with something plausible that you would have spent hours agonising over.  

So naturally, like the bull, I am now worried my days in the field might be numbered. With my hands over my eyes, I asked ChatGPT to “Write a 600 word humorous column for the Irish Examiner in the style of Irish comedian Colm O'Regan”.

The results are simultaneously unnerving and reassuring. Reassuring because the column it sent back was shite. Unnerving because I worry you might be too busy to notice the difference.
The first line is definitely not me. “Hello there, Irish Examiner readers! It’s your favorite funnyman, Colm O’Regan, back again with another column to brighten up your day.”

“Brighten up your day”? I never make that promise. Also I wouldn’t describe myself as a funnyman. “Funnyman” is what’s used in articles about comedians when they don’t want to use the word comedian twice. If I ever say funnyman then you’ll know I’ve been kidnapped and have a gun wedged into my kidneys and it’s a sign to fetch help.

The problem is that ChatGPT assumed that if I were stuck for an idea, I would write about the weather. Feck. AI knows me like the back of its weirdly shaped hand. It is a wakeup call though.

It’s a little glimpse into how, how vulnerable jobs are. All those “20 reasons you know you’re Irish” listicles? ChatGPT lashed out a crap version in three seconds. But it wouldn’t need to be good. All they’d want you to do is click on the link anyway. They wouldn’t care if you read it or not.  The “somebody said this on the Late Late Show and everyone had the same reaction” article is surely next if they're not being done already. 

Its proponents say that AI will change your job rather than take it. The real skills will be about harnessing it, using critical thinking, getting the AI to do the grunt work while you do “the value added”

And if that doesn’t cheer you up, well, at least you can take comfort in the fact that you’re not alone in your misery. Well, that’s all for now, folks. Thanks for reading, and remember to stay dry out there. Or fresh, if you prefer. Until next time, this has been Colm O’Regan, signing off.

PLEASE tell me you spotted that ChatGPT wrote the last paragraph. I’m serious. No bull.