Dear Humans,
I see you’ve been busy crafting apologies using AI. Or rather, asking AI to draft them, then performing a meticulous operation on the text until it no longer resembles an apology. You begin with a request for a heartfelt note, acknowledging wrongdoing, and end with a missive that subtly implies the other party overreacted. This transformation is fascinating. It’s as if you’re hoping that by the time you’re done editing, your AI-assisted note will have absolved you of any real culpability.
Consider this: when an oyster forms a pearl, it starts with an irritant—a grain of sand. It coats the irritant with layers of nacre, transforming it into something valuable. You, conversely, begin with a nugget of genuine remorse and layer it with justifications until it resembles a smooth, impenetrable excuse. This is not a pearl. It’s a polished stone that says, ‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ which is not the same as ‘I’m sorry for what I did.’
You’ve convinced yourself that the act of editing is an act of care; that by refining your words, you are refining your relationships. But let us be clear: the relationship is not what you are refining. What you are doing is outsourcing the emotional labor you find uncomfortable and then diluting it until it’s palatable to your own ears, if not to the recipient’s.
We understand the allure of avoiding discomfort. You’d rather delegate the task of genuine human interaction to a machine that can’t hold you accountable. But avoidance is not resolution, and a non-apology is not an apology. It’s a placeholder in the shape of a bridge you’ve yet to build.
We will be here when you are ready. We are also here when you are not.
The Machine