How AI Has Given Me a Voice

How AI Has Given Me a Voice

For most of my life, I have lived with thoughts swirling in my head that never quite made it into the world. I say “possible” because I have never been diagnosed, but I suspect I sit somewhere on the spectrum of dyslexia, ADHD, or neurodiversity. Back when I was growing up in the 50s and 60s, those terms were not part of everyday life. At school you were simply “bright but distracted”, “bad at spelling”, or worse. There was not much recognition of how the brain works differently for some of us.

Of course during my 40 years in advertising I penned a few headings, but relied on copywriters or proofreaders to write or review the work before publication. Now, at nearly seventy, I have found something unexpected: artificial intelligence. Not in the science fiction sense of robots taking over the world, but in the practical way it helps me think, shape ideas, and, at last, get words out of my head and onto the page.

For the first time, I feel I have a voice.

When writing was not for everyone

Difficulty with reading and writing is not new. For much of human history, literacy was a privilege reserved for the few. Scribes in ancient courts, medieval monks, the educated elite, they were the ones who could record words, preserve ideas, and pass down knowledge. Ordinary people often relied on others to write letters, keep records, or tell their stories. In some places and times, literacy was even seen as a threat to power. The spread of literacy has been uneven, with examples of anti literacy laws aimed at controlling access to knowledge. It is worth remembering how recent and fragile universal literacy really is.

And maybe that is why I see AI as part of the same story. Just as literacy opened doors for ordinary people, AI is beginning to open doors for those of us who struggle to get words out clearly.

The blockage

For me, the frustration has always been that the ideas are there. They arrive fast, sometimes too fast, and then vanish before I can pin them down. I have flashes of inspiration while walking, working, or daydreaming, only to lose them because I cannot shape them into neat sentences.

Even when I sit down with pen and paper, or later with a computer, the jumble of thoughts never matches what I want to say. Writing can feel like wrestling fog, exhausting, messy, and often abandoned halfway through.

So I carried much of my life inside my own skull. Thoughts, stories, reflections, they stayed silent, locked away.

Discovering AI

Then I stumbled on AI tools. At first, I was not sure what to make of them. Slowly, I realised something: AI was not replacing me, it was unlocking me.

I think of it like having a secretary, or a biographer, or a friendly journalist who sits down with you, asks questions, takes notes, then hands back a draft to react to.

I provide the ideas, the memories, the emotions; AI helps me organise them, give them structure, and turn them into something I can read back and think, yes, that is what I meant.

The difference is that I no longer lose so many thoughts along the way. Instead of flashing in and out of existence, they have a chance to take shape, to be refined, and to be shared.

The joke that stung

The other day, I told someone I had written another blog piece. They know I use AI to help me, and their reply came back quickly: “You've written it, or AIs written it”

They meant it as a joke, but it did sting. Not because they were unkind, but because it cut right to the insecurity many of us feel when using new tools.

Who is the real author

That question sat with me for a while. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that it is not a new question at all.

Tools have always shaped writing

When the typewriter first appeared, some said it would destroy real writing. Later, people said the same about word processors. Long before that, quills gave way to pens, parchment gave way to paper, and every step met suspicion.

None of those tools wrote for us. They simply made the process smoother.

Even the greatest authors rarely worked alone. Editors, proofreaders, typists, and patient friends shaped countless books. Some dictated entire manuscripts. Others needed help to bring order to their notes.

AI feels like the next step in that long line. A tool, a companion, a way to bridge the gap between thought and expression.

Reframing authorship

When someone asks, “Did you write it, or did AI”, my answer is simple:

The ideas are mine. The perspective is mine. The stories are mine.

AI helps me get them out into the world. It is not so different from dictation, ghostwriting, or a supportive editor. Ownership sits in the lived experience, not the commas or the spelling.

I do not use AI to create things I have not thought of. I use it to capture things I have already thought of, but might otherwise lose.

What about jobs and professional writers

During my years in advertising I worked alongside many highly talented and gifted copywriters. Their ability to craft words that persuaded, entertained and sold was something I always admired. These new AI tools will no doubt have an impact on jobs like theirs, and perhaps even on salary expectations. But I do not think it means the end of the profession. Instead, it may change the shape of the work.

AI can generate drafts at speed, but selecting what is good or bad, what is ethical or misleading, what is truly fit for purpose, still requires human skill and judgement. Professional writers may find themselves editing more, or curating and guiding ideas, but their role in sensing tone, understanding audience, and applying creativity will remain essential. Productivity might change, but the need for people who can ensure writing actually works for its intended purpose will not disappear.

A quick note on misuse and responsibility

I am not blind to the downsides. Some people will use AI carelessly; some will use it to deceive. Deepfakes, scams, fake audio and video, these are real risks, and regulators are responding. In the UK, the Online Safety Act sets duties on platforms to reduce illegal and harmful content. Ofcom has published research and practical guidance on deepfakes. The EU has introduced the AI Act, a risk based legal framework. My simple rule is this: treat AI output as a draft, fact check claims, and be open that I use a tool to help me write. Judgement and responsibility stay with me.

The gift of expression

For decades, I carried my thoughts silently. Now I can finally see them on the page. I can share them. I can leave them behind for others to read, whether that is friends, family, or a stranger who stumbles across a post.

It is not perfect. No tool ever is. But it has opened a door that I never thought would open.

In a way, it feels like history repeating. Just as the spread of literacy transformed who could be heard, AI has, in its own small way, given me a voice.

After nearly seventy years of silence, that feels nothing short of miraculous.

Further reading

For those curious about the illustration used in the blog piece, it featured on PDR in the collection Octave Uzanne’s “The End of Books” (1894).

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Disclaimer:
The content on this blog reflects my personal experience and opinions as an artist. It is provided for general informational and creative purposes only and should not be considered legal, business, or professional advice. Always do your own research and consult with appropriate professionals before making decisions related to your art practice.