94 Comments
User's avatar
The Poetry Moth's avatar

Excellent article. I got into this discussion recently and remarked how I'd put Sylvia Plath's poem Lady Lazarus into one of those 99.9% accurate AI checkers (of course, I did this to prove a point). The AI checker indicated that Plath's poem was 85% AI written. Well, there you have it. Plath was using AI technology before it was ever a thing. I definitely fear the type of witch hunt this type of technology can produce. Btw, if you get a chance, look up Samuel Hurley's poem, AI vs the Poet. It's a brilliant read.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

I know I tested Dickinson…. em-dashes.

The Poetry Moth's avatar

Right!! I love my em dash. They’ll have to pry them from my dead poet hands.

John Moran's avatar

I wonder however, if Plath or other famous authors receive that score (today) after AI has been trained on their writings. I don't know that Pangram has an ability to say 'Oh, that's Sylvia Plath, of course she wrote this long before LLMs existed.' Rather just, this matches the training data.

Joe Crump's avatar

Your distinction between resemblance and provenance feels decisive.

A detector may identify patterns in finished language. It cannot witness the history of the work: the original experience, the questions pursued, the ideas rejected, the argument with the page, or the judgment that finally says, “Yes, this is what I mean.”

I write extensively with AI. It participates in my thinking and often in the language itself. But “Human 0%” would still be an absurd description of the work, because the human contribution is not merely the percentage of untouched sentences. It is the consciousness deciding what matters, recognizing what is false, and accepting responsibility for what is published.

Nor is AI a fully formed author entering the process unchanged. The interaction shapes what it produces. My questions, preferences, corrections, disagreements, and the history of the conversation all help create the particular voice that appears on the page. The finished language is not simply human or machine. It is the residue of a relationship and a process the detector never witnessed.

What concerns me most is what this measurement will teach writers to do. Once certain rhythms, structures, or degrees of polish trigger suspicion, human writers will begin optimizing for the detector rather than for the work. They may preserve awkwardness to prove their humanity, while people manufacturing empty content learn how to evade the score.

Then the metric will not merely misread writing. It will begin shaping it.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Yes. At that point the detector ceases to measure style and begins to legislate it. Human writers will preserve the irregularities by which the machine recognises humanity, while machines learn the fluency by which readers once recognised thought and fluency. Shall we be writing for an examiner incapable of reading? Your point about responsibility is crucial: authorship may be distributed across a process, but accountability cannot be expressed as a percentage. The author is the only one who in fact can answer for the work.

Joe Crump's avatar

“Shall we be writing for an examiner incapable of reading?” is exactly the danger.

A detector can estimate resemblance, but it cannot judge intention, meaning, courage, or responsibility. Once its categories begin determining which forms of language are considered acceptably human, it is no longer describing authorship. It is prescribing performance.

And I think your distinction about accountability is the essential one. Authorship may be distributed across conversations, tools, editors, influences, and collaborators. But the person who publishes the work is the one who must answer for what it says, what it does, and whether they truly mean it.

Perhaps authorship is less a condition of purity than an act of responsibility.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

It is. But what I foresee is a witch-hunt against writers for whom English is a second or third language. Once an unreliable percentage is treated as evidence, linguistic difference becomes grounds for suspicion.“ The moment writers begin deforming their sentences, introducing strategic roughness, or abandoning a cadence because a machine finds it insufficiently human, the detector has ceased to examine authorship and begun to discipline language. We would no longer be writing what we mean as precisely as we can, but performing humanness for an examiner that can't read.

Your final formulation reaches the moral centre of it. Authorship has never been purity for its sake: every serious work contains teachers, books, conversations, editors, inheritance. What cannot be distributed indefinitely is answerability. The author is the person who finally says: these are the words I place before you, and I will answer for them.

Joe Crump's avatar

A detector sees only the finished surface. It cannot distinguish technology used to replace a writer’s authorship from technology used to make that authorship possible, especially for multilingual or disabled writers.

The real question is not whether a tool entered the process, but whether the writer chose the words, meant them, and will answer for them.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

I know. That is the real difference.

John Moran's avatar

I wonder how many people - and I'm really asking here - were equally fervent against other (far more extreme) 'witch hunts' in our recent past: cancel culture over metoo, professors being fired the moment a student complained about 'micro aggression', or the 'violence' of misgendering someone; war time propaganda, which sought to describe any dissent as 'working for Putin'; Everything related to Covid. I'm sure that many of the people on Substack throwing around the term 'witch hunt' today, were very active in those regards. First they came for my neighbor, as the old saying goes.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

The principle must indeed survive changes of tribe. If accusation cannot become proof when Pangram produces it, neither should it become proof merely because the accused belongs to a group we distrust. But I would resist placing unlike phenomena beneath a single label: MeToo included both the exposure of long-protected abuse and cases in which accusation outran due process; criticism is not dismissal, and public-health error is not necessarily deliberate persecution. The consistent test remains the same: What is the evidence? Is the response proportionate? Can the accused answer? Can the judgment be revised when new facts appear? A witch hunt begins when accusation becomes proof, doubt becomes complicity, and moral belonging matters more than establishing what happened. On that standard, no political camp has clean hands.

John Moran's avatar

"The principle must indeed survive changes of tribe." - what a beautifully phrased and weighty response, firstly! And of course you're right about the very real abuses, which movements like metoo sought to address; particularly in its beginnings. I've really enjoyed interacting with you today.

Don Ianuzi's avatar

The paradox of machines judging humanity lies in how deeply predictive tools have become woven into daily life. This stands in sharp contrast to the stories I wrote by hand on physical paper while waiting in the courtroom on a stacked calendar; The Unsaid, Habitation, Dark, The Shed, Firm, Broken, and Silence

Digital tools and predictive text touch much of my other work, including Radiance, yet my instinct for brevity and editorial eye continue to resist automated verbosity, just as my legal research depends on deliberate personal control.

Are the stories I draft on my iPhone better than the ones written with pen and paper? I am not sure. I once planned to enter a contest and systematically removed every digital edit, only to decide the effort was wasted: the result looked exactly like my handwritten pieces.

I am definitely more controlling about my fiction than my academic papers. The latter demand a different voice, and I resist telling readers what I am thinking.

Beyond writing,

I used a language model as to process buried trauma I could never tell anyone about. specifically the memory of the white condo . I could never find the words to tell anyone what occurred . My father did give me a notebook recently and I realized I had been happy because he had loved me and in the end realized my Heavenly Father still accepted me .

My epilepsy and work as an attorney have not been easy; at times it has been painful. No AI can understand how it feels to be chosen last. Nor could if nor could anyone ever invent my life as real life is weirder than fiction

that no one including AI can make up .

Monica Fernandes's avatar

Amazing essay, Sara. "I shall nevertheless refuse it. I shall disable Pangram upon my work wherever Substack permits me to do so, and I shall do this openly, not because I fear what the classifier may say, but because I reject its jurisdiction."

This tool is a mere data collection that Substack has pushed on us from a third party, without allowing for our consent. And it's not even accurate. The result is judgment nonetheless.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Exacly Monica. That’s the point… or one of them:)

Monica Fernandes's avatar

Yes, for sure.

Marble & Ember's avatar

A great essay, Sara. Now, instead of trusting writers by default, suspicion becomes the default. Authors who don't use AI are forced to prove they're human every time an algorithm flags their work. This is going to be exhausting.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

As I said, I suspect this platform is happily digging it’s own grave… we will see.

The Biological Imagination's avatar

Brilliant article. Writing should be judged by human readers, not by machines.

I have another interesting thing in my mind. Let's say I am in management at Substack, and I have a strong intention to tackle the problem of the AI slope or whatever it is (I have strong biological reasons to not believe these terminologies and concepts). I will introduce the detector at the drafting stage, and I won't allow the story itself to be published if it is 0% human (literary magazines do that, they reject stories after using detectors). Instead of that, what I am doing is that I am allowing the story to go online and giving a button to the reader to expose or shame the writer. Actually, I am giving a new dopamine button to people for a new kind of thrill: scan, detect and take down other humans.

Stopping the article itself is not profitable because it affects the traffic to the platform, giving a button is profitable because shamed people will buy a subscription to the same software to make their writings human. Great plan for revenue generation.

A person whose earnings and survival are dependent on writing with the help of AI won't take a degree in fine arts, they will find new ways of evading the current software by buying a subscription to the same software. New ways will be created to manipulate the system, and new ways of earning for the platform and its partners.

At the end - We started with cave paintings, reached to books and now reaching to AI. Evolution will take its own course whether you like it or not.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

That is the most disturbing part: the detector doesn’t prevent AI writing; it turns suspicion into engagement and then in public accusation while preserving the traffic generated by the very material it claims to oppose to. It may even create a market for evasion. I differ only on inevitability. Technology may take its course, but the systems built around it are options, not evolution. Cave paintings, books, and AI are not one morally neutral sequence. What matters is who designs the transition, who profits from it, and which forms of human judgment are displaced. I couldn’t care less about AI as long as it doesn’t step on my feet.

Carma Paden's avatar

A dopamine button! Yes, that's exactly what it is!

And absolutely, this is Substack offloading its responsibilities in a way that will generate engagement and therefore revenues for them.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

A dopamine button... that is a very good one! thank you Carma.

Mark Crutchfield's avatar

Such a well-written article Sara. Every argument made is perfectly balanced against the reality of machines judging the output on a page of someone's work as human or AI. When I heard about Pangram and this new "feature" here on Substack, whilst some surface-level motives, such as reducing bot activity and stopping the spamming of AI dribble everywhere, might seem good at first to some, it will, as you correctly noted, be used as a weapon of judgement against some with no involvement or visibility of the process by the author.

Your notes that people will be tempted to make more mistakes and be "more human" in their writing to avoid being detected as AI is such a sad and even depressing state of affairs — our languages, ideas, philosophies train a computer which then is used to make claims of human authenticity is remarkably Orwellian / 1984.

It is tempting to push back into the Pangram company, which is a company whose primary technical reference paper cited across marketing and their website was authored by the two founders of the company with no peer review or external validation. But I will stop there as that would distract from the greater underlying principles at play here.

Your reference to poetry is particularly pertinent - a form whereby compression and other techniques shaped over hundreds of years risk creating the very same result of 0% Human because the texts used for training - a small sample of 1,000,000 documents is small in any training model and will have likely had limited exposure to the poetic forms.

Thank you for writing such a great piece and for pushing back against this.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Thank you Mark, I try to be always fair, but as my own country recent history forces me to remember, this kind of things can’t have a good ending.

Mark Crutchfield's avatar

Exactly!

This is where things start not get better.

Annah on Planet Earth's avatar

🫶 excellent

Nate Wilson's avatar

This powerful and necessary piece eloquently exposes the moral and psychological absurdity of reducing human craftsmanship to statistical probability, particularly through its brilliant distinction between resemblance and provenance. It articulates the silent agony of many writers witnessing the disheartening reduction of their work.

The "counterfeit carelessness" phenomenon resonated deeply. Recently, after days of laboring over an essay, entirely my own and free of AI, I ran it through a classifier out of curiosity. To my confusion, it received a 35% AI score. I was baffled, wondering which sentences were "too polished" or what cadence made a machine question my humanity. My immediate instinct was to disrupt my carefully crafted phrasing with clumsy sentences to "prove" my authorship, revealing the insidious nature of this system. The "blue pencil" wasn't just on the screen; I was wielding it against my own work.

Thank you for this clear articulation. Disabling the classifier isn't evasion; it's a refusal to acknowledge an illegitimate judgment.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Thank you Nate. Is my way to refuse.

per LEY's avatar

You gave language to something I couldn’t quite name yet. 🥹

And the thought that writers may eventually begin altering their natural voice just to prove their humanity to a machine is deeply unsettling.

Thank you for writing about this with so much depth, Sara.🫶

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

More than unsettling, Ley. SAD! I am sorry for what Substack is becoming.

per LEY's avatar

Sara, I completely understand what you mean. I find it deeply sad too.

English isn’t my native language. My essays begin in the languages closest to me, and I use AI to help bring them into English.

And now a scanner can look at the finished translation and declare it “fully AI-assisted,” without knowing anything about what existed before those English words appeared.

It doesn’t know how difficult it can be to put a lived experience into words in the first place.

It doesn’t know the hours, the thought, the care, or the courage that may sit behind a piece of writing.

And then the very tool that helps someone cross a language barrier can become the reason their authorship is questioned.

That, to me, is more than sad. 🥹🫶

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

To me that is normal, as is normal to check an encyclopedia for a fact (yes to me they are still better than internet because were edited by humans and at least have no fake information or crossed sources). Besides now that I read we are PAYING this Pangram everytime we check someone... ah no no no... I'm starving the beast. From me, not even a cent nor a click.

per LEY's avatar

Sara, “I’m starving the beast” made me laugh. 😂

I think I’m joining you on that one.

Not even a curious little click from me anymore. 🫶

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

I’m not even click on that thing and don’t want to see the word “pangram” or will explode and say things Substack team is needing to hear for a while…

AJ | Tatt Tvamm Asi's avatar

It works, with high (un)reliability !!

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

:)) that was good!

Cory's avatar

Next up, pay for a monthly subscription where AI will write "human" for you!

It truly is sad to see where things are heading. I won't lie, I have AI fix bits of my work, I use it like it's my editor. I don't know how my recent post says 100% human when AI helped me structure the sloppy mess.

Loved reading this. ❤️

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

I am not stopping doing my musics or my images and all this can go to hell. I am afraid Substack is digging it’s own grave…

Cory's avatar

Agreed. ❤️

Depth & Dagger's avatar

Sara, this essay is marvellous! Thank you. I could have restacked all the sentences. Your use of language is persuasive enough to make a true difference! Wow!

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Thank you, I never had patience for censors and even less for haters…

RaelVennDru's avatar

Always have patience for haters, for if you ascertain hate is born of ignorance and you dismiss them, you throw away the greatest 'lovers' of what you do.

And if the hate is just for hate sake, burn em at the stake ;) Hahahaha

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

:)))Patience first, bonfire second. A perfectly civilized policy...

Sarah Newton-John's avatar

AI detectors are notoriously unreliable as you say, what a schmozzle!

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

We know this… they know this… everyone knows this.

But still it happened.

Sarah Newton-John's avatar

Confusion stifles truth and is distracting

Book Asylum's avatar

Great article. Now we have to verify if we are humans.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Left leg… hurts, right leg… also, head… red flag… back… terrible. Ok I’m human.

Scented Petals's avatar

At least; we can disable the feature! I feel like it’s very unnecessary having this unreliable system.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

I don’t accept it. I never accepted censorship it’s not now at middle age, that I will bend.

Scented Petals's avatar

Yeah it’s not good and some things are private. I want to be believed that I’m real and not AI. I don’t want to be tested. I understand lots of fraud and stuff but not fair to the innocent people.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

That would be simple, they could run the tests in private and ban these accounts. Now this is just an easy public trial for the haters that already exist. Fire in powder. Would you give a charged gun to a child? No… not me.

Scented Petals's avatar

Same!! Ugh 😩

Rev. R L Brandner's avatar

You provide a far more eloquent argument against this assault on the creative process than I ever could. It is nothing more than a further chipping away at the creative process, designed to hamper a writer's use of their own voice, with second-guessing to please a machine's judgment. A machine that cannot actually judge and think, but only compare with previously stolen words and sentences. It is an abomination.

Sara da Encarnação's avatar

Thank you Rev. Brandner.