Starting point or endpoint?
Google sees the message of the ad differently, of course. "We believe that AI can be a great tool for enhancing human creativity but can never replace it," Google spokesperson Alana Beale told SFGate. "Our goal was to create an authentic story celebrating Team USA. It showcases a real-life track enthusiast and her father and aims to show how the Gemini app can provide a starting point, thought starter, or early draft for someone looking for ideas for their writing."
The idea of AI output as a mere "starting point" for human endeavors has long been key to the marketing balancing act. That Copilot Superbowl ad, for instance, includes outputs with numerous "brainstormed" storyboard images and signage designs for the human prompter to pick from.
Besides making the AI seem more approachable, the "starting point" framing helps obscure that current AI models usually aren't good enough to operate without significant human intervention. In most professional cases, you still need a human editor or designer to weed out the hallucinated or nonsensical AI-generated options. And even quality AI output often needs editing to avoid coming across as non-human.But humans are lazy. It's a small leap from "Generate some ideas I can use as a starting point" to "Eh, that starting point looks fine; just submit it as is." That might be fine for busywork situations where the quality of the output isn't paramount. But as NPR's Linda Holmes memorably wrote, "Who wants an AI-written fan letter??"
To Google's credit, putting the "Dear Sydney" ad prompt into Google Gemini returns a response that's clearly labeled as "a draft to get you started," as in the ad. The response even suggests that the prompter "add more personal details to make the letter even more special. For example, your daughter could mention a specific race she watched or a particular quality she admires about Sydney."
But when we put the same prompt into the subscribers-only Gemini Advanced model, that "draft" framing is gone. Instead, you get a short letter that's implicitly ready to send once you fill in the bracketed "[Daughter's name]" sections.
A kid that gets a response like that isn't going to see LLMs as a useful "starting point" tool to avoid writer's block when confronted with a blank page. They're going to see LLMs as a way to generate a complete letter that they can pass off as their own—just fill in your name here, and there's no need to add any more personal touch.
The whole thing reminds me of the opening scene in Spike Jonze's 2013 movie Her. While Joaquin Phoenix's protagonist at first seems to be dictating a heartfelt letter to a loved one, it quickly becomes clear he is working as one of many faceless drones for "beautifulhandwrittenletters.com," writing a touching message on behalf of a stranger and intended for another stranger.
The scene is a clear statement on the alienating, dehumanizing effects of outsourcing the emotional labor of personal writing. It's also a look at a world where the idea of writing your own personal message to a loved one is apparently so foreign to people that it has become an economically viable business model for outsourced specialists.
As a vision of the future (present?) of letter writing—and creative work in general—Google's "Dear Sydney" ad might be even more grim. I want AI-powered tools to automate the most boring, mundane tasks in my life, giving me more time to spend on creative, life-affirming moments with my family. Google’s ad seems to imply that these life-affirming moments are also something to be avoided—or at least made pleasingly more efficient—through the use of AI.
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