Post # 80
July 3, 2024
Claire Bodanis
While struggling to marshal her thoughts for this month’s FW blog, Claire turned to an unlikely source for inspiration…
“As we stand on the precipice of another UK general election, the political landscape is poised for yet another seismic shift. The air is thick with anticipation and speculation, as each party hones its strategy, rallies its base, and attempts to sway the undecided electorate. In the tradition of Falcon Windsor, where communication is crafted with precision and insight, let us delve into the intricate dance of democracy that is about to unfold.”
Yes, dear readers. I found myself in the admittedly unusual position of struggling to write my blog this month. Or rather, struggling to decide what to write about. A number of themes had been rattling around in my head. AI – we’ve just started the focus groups for our research project. Sustainability reporting requirements – they’re certainly not going away. Truth and decency in public discourse – I’ve found myself compelled to speak up for the importance of truth in a number of different contexts these last few weeks: politicians canvassing outside our local bakery; protesters screaming abuse in Oxford Circus; and, sadly, a visiting priest pronouncing nonsense from the pulpit of a friend’s parish church. And, of course, the coincidence that this blog will be with you the day before we in the UK vote in the General Election.
But like a dog going round and round in its basket before it settles down to sleep, I kept going round and round without, unfortunately, settling on anything. I simply didn’t feel I had anything new or interesting to say. About anything.
With blog deadline looming, I reflected on the demo of ChatGPT 4.0 our lovely friends at Insig AI had given us a couple of days ago. I was somewhat underwhelmed, by the way, but then I thought – well, people talk about how good it is at giving you ideas, so why don’t I see what it has to say? Could it (eek!) give me some ideas and a few intro sentences to help get me started? Or even (shudder!) give me something I could edit?
Well, the ‘something I could edit’ didn’t go so well, did it? After that rather crass beginning, it went on and on, through a series of unbelievably banal paragraphs summarising the approach of each of our political parties (not entirely accurately), with a few ‘unique narratives’, ‘unprecedenteds’, and ‘cut through the noises’ to give it a flavour of being personal opinion. Along with more mangled metaphors of the ‘delve into a dance’ variety.
But then, I did ask it to ‘write a 700-word blog about the upcoming UK election in the style of Claire Bodanis of Falcon Windsor’. Everyone says that it’s all about getting the prompts right. And perhaps there just isn’t enough CB of FW material out there for it to learn from.
So I tried asking it to write ‘on behalf of ’, rather than ‘in the style of’, and I even uploaded a couple of word docs with blogs so it didn’t have to find them for itself on the FW website. Result? Pretty much the same, with a slight variation of banalities in the introductory paragraph. By the way, I also had a go at asking it to do the same thing as if it were economist/journalist Tim Harford, and then The Economist, to see if the problem was simply a ‘not enough data’ issue; but it came back with pretty similar banalities – in Tim’s case, with extra data and economics thrown in.
And yet. Everyone keeps going on about how great ChatGPT is as a starting point for writing (‘although we’d never publish anything without checking it first, of course not,’ ho hum). So, I thought to myself, there must be a way to get it to write as if it were me. Perhaps the problem is that I haven’t been specific enough and it doesn’t realise that I really want it to write as if it were me… I know, I’ll ask it to ‘write 700 words on Claire Bodanis’s personal opinion about the UK election’.
Would you like to read it? Here we go:
“As the UK braces itself for another general election, it’s hard not to reflect on the weight of this moment. Having spent years immersed in the art of communication and narrative crafting, I find myself considering not just the policies and promises of the parties involved but the stories they tell and the visions they paint for our future. This election feels particularly consequential, a crossroads where our choices will shape the socio-economic and cultural landscape of the UK for years to come.”
And then, as with the first blog, it went on and on through a series of very similar generic paragraphs, summarising the approach of each party, although this time, inserting ‘my opinion’ into them. In commenting on the Conservative Party, I apparently say “As someone deeply invested in the power of narrative, I can appreciate the emphasis on stability and gradual progress.” I also believe, it seems: “It’s a time to ask hard questions, to demand clear and honest answers, and to envision the kind of society we want to build.” My conclusion? “Let’s make our voices heard and our choices count, steering our nation towards a path of prosperity, justice, and sustainability.”
God help me.
Or rather, God help you, dear, lovely readers, were I so to pollute your inboxes.
And so, while I cannot promise I will always write something that you want to read, or that you enjoy reading, what I can promise is that I will always try. If I hope that you will take the time to read what I’ve written, at the very least I should do you the courtesy of taking the time to think about what I’m writing, and write it myself. To think about what you might be interested in right now, and bring you a perspective that’s not just a meaningless rehash of stuff already out there on the internet, however grammatically correct or logical in flow.
And what I can also promise is that I will never, ever subject you to such fatuous, self-aggrandising, sententious drivel.
Thank you, ChatGPT – you certainly cured this writer’s block!