Well, look who just spotted me and isn’t happy about it. You’ve got the same look as you did when that server told you to enjoy your tortellini, and you said, “You too.”
I think you’re familiar with my work: I’m the typo in your novel that just went to print, the wrong use of “you’re” in that viral social media post, or the “beast wishes,” in that email you just sent to your boss.
For years, I’ve had this thankless job, but I think it’s about time I made an appearance in your nightly gratitude journal.
Why, you ask? Because now that that clown ChatGPT is feeding a constant stream of slop to the internet, maybe you can appreciate what I’ve always known—that grammatically perfect writing that is devoid of voice sucks ass.
And since people are looking for ways to tell whether writing was done by a human or not, do you know what one of those signs might be? That’s right; it’s a typo like me.
Oh, you’ve been resistant to the idea for years. You thought that if you made a typo in your grant proposal or cover letter, it would reflect poorly on your writing skills.
But it turns out that people would rather read a thoughtful essay with an error in it than one of ChatGPT’s grammatically flawless articles about delving into a thought-provoking tapestry of synergy.
And breaking the rules of grammar can lead to interesting things. Sometimes a poem needs a buttload of em dashes, or a critic needs to remember his appreciation for the phrase “they is” on his deathbed.
The imperfections in things are what can make them interesting. Do you think people would care about the Leaning Tower of Pisa if it were straight? Upright buildings are boring, just like robotically written articles about must-see landmarks in Italy.
And AI aside, do you know who knows how to lighten up a room? Me.
Who saved you from falling asleep during that hundred-slide PowerPoint on the employee handbook by slipping in that line about “soliciting pubic opinions”? Who do you think got that “pay existing fee here” sign put up in your dentist’s parking garage? And do I even need to remind you about “covfefe”?
So, stop looking so disappointed when, after running your writing through a grammar check, reading it out loud, and changing the font to catch errors, I still find a way in.
You can hold your head up high. To err is human, and not catching all the typos in your final drafts is one of the things indicating you are, in fact, a human. At least until the next time you try to complete a CAPTCHA.