On Shame, Grammar, and Survival
Not a hot take, just a soft take.
On cruelty, writing, and why I think using AI isn't cheating—it's survival.
This idea is difficult to articulate, and it will likely be perceived by many in an unintended manner. But have you noticed how mean we are to each other? Have you noticed yourself being mean? Have you noticed how that makes you feel?
Every time I go on social media or read the comments on news articles, I am disturbed. For the sake of clarity, I want to focus on one issue in particular, not because it's the most important, but because it's a prominent example of how we often resort to mockery and cruelty, letting performance override compassion.
Every time I go on Threads, I see a post that goes something like, "The em dash is a dead giveaway you use AI to write (insert something mean along the lines of you don't deserve to write and you're stupid)." Then the comments are rife with people arguing that the em dash is not a giveaway, that people can use AI, or that people who use AI are talentless and are the reason the planet is dying.
Energetically and environmentally, yes, AI is harmful, and this is an area that falls outside my scope, so I will leave it where it lies. But let's talk about posting mean things and tearing each other down.
I have used AI to copyedit my work (I am even typing this into Grammarly), and I consider myself a writer. Punctuation has always been a weak spot for me—and I love the inappropriate use of the em dash. It's the little breath or dramatic pause that happens in my thoughts as I put those thoughts to paper. And I never fully learned how to use it appropriately. Learning proper grammar and punctuation is also a privilege that many folks don't have.
The rules that make "good writing" were written by those with privilege—those with specific experiences and certain education. "Good writing" often being defined as writing that conforms to dominant norms. We don't talk enough about how our society uses language to maintain and perpetuate power. There is an ongoing discrepancy in writing due to racialized bias as well as class bias. Many people whose lives haven't afforded them certain privileges are often shamed into silence over comma placements and grammar. When you mock someone's grammar online, you are rarely being constructive, and rarely punching up. But you are reinforcing the idea that only a select few are entitled to take up space as thinkers and creatives.
I attended elementary, middle, and high school, and I earned my Bachelor's and Master's degrees. I have always felt insecure about my punctuation, and it has stopped me from writing even when I have a lot to say. I moved schools, attending eight different schools up until high school. Frankly, my parents were unstable, chose to move repeatedly, and were in a domestically violent relationship that peaked in my middle school and high school years. Those English classes were difficult to make sense of, as I went to bed nightly, wondering if I needed to call the cops, and couldn't sleep because the walls were shaking.
I completed my higher education by piecing together my papers and repeatedly being marked down for punctuation errors. Every time I saw a paper marked up with a red pen, I felt increasingly ashamed: "I should know better; I am in grad school." I wouldn't reread my work because of the shame and overwhelm. After all, what am I rereading for when I don't know what I am looking at? The shame came to a head when I was writing my Analytical Review, my final project to earn my master's degree. My ideas were great, but I kept getting my paper sent back due to all the mistakes I made. One may say, "Why didn't you just learn?" and I would tell that person that at that time, I was working three jobs and trying to secure a post-graduation job; I was tired, navigating roommate and relationship drama. One can only do so much at once, and when people critique grammar online, we lose that context, and backstory is traded for assumptions. Online critiques aren't thoughtfully asking why someone may need help getting their thoughts onto paper, and they are often assuming laziness—a cruel erasure of effort.
What is the benefit of posting these things online without having a nuanced discussion of what may lead people to lean on AI? What are you hoping to achieve by tearing others down? Maybe you could argue the importance of "proper writing,"but if that is your argument, please revisit the paragraph where I discuss privilege and racial and class bias. "Proper writing" and "professionalism" should never demand the erasure of voices that are different.
Our culture has normalized cruelty. Social media is often used as a debate stage when, in reality, we are looking for connection and solidarity. We do a lot of talking and not much listening. How do you feel about that? We often normalize snarky posts and performative takedowns, conflate intelligence with meanness, and equate vulnerability with incompetence. What do you think the consequences are for mistaking meanness for intelligence and vulnerability as incompetence? We risk silencing those with amazing ideas. We risk creating a world where only those who are polished are heard.
We are long overdue for a culture that makes space for imperfect voices and welcomes them with kindness and acceptance. Let's work to replace contempt with curiosity, and let's refrain from critiquing at the expense of compassion. If someone is using AI to express something they have struggled to say their whole life, it's not cheating. It's courage.
Be a part of the shift. Make the internet a little softer—one kind assumption or a curious question at a time.