AI Collaboration Reflection

For this assignment, I wrote a short story of approximately 500 words, then took sentences from
my original piece and inputted them into an artificial intelligence text generator. Through our
collaborative efforts, a new piece was constructed. The two stories had wildly different thematic elements.
This assignment reminded me of the ‘Theater game’, one I remember playing quite frequently in
elementary school. This game is played with a group of children, who start sitting in a circle. The
objective of the game is to tell a whole story, one word at a time. Players take turns, going around the
circle until the story has a satisfying conclusion. If I remember correctly, the game would keep going as
my friends would say continuously outrageous things, finally ending when our teacher would come put a
stop to our antics. Most of the time when we played this game it ended with uproarious laughter, and we
got in trouble for ‘disrupting the class’.

This game can be played with just two people. The trouble is, if one wants a good story they have
to be half dependent on their partner. In my case, my partner was a goofball and I had to go looking
around to find a better one. There are a plethora of AI text generators on the internet nowadays, so I had
my pick of the litter. I started with the one provided in the assignment description,1 but immediately ran
into trouble. When I inputted the first sentence of my story, it was clear that the generator had no concept
of what a narrative was. I tried many times to get it to work. I tried playing with the settings of the
website, such as the character limit on the text generated and keywords to include. However much I tried,
I could not get a cohesive story. The output from the bot had no connection to my original line. Worse
even, it was not funny.

Original Story: Today I awoke. In my estimation, this was already a poor start to the day.

Inferkit Bot Output: I was still feeling the same feelings I felt yesterday.
I also was still feeling stupid for throwing my cookies all over God.
This is where I remind myself of the lesson learned.
I obviously didn't

This is one of the less egregious examples. Most of which contained repeated words or phrases.
In one instance the bot output a short poem much to my surprise. The poem was not good. My issue with
this bot was there was no cohesiveness or intention behind the writing. Unlike the ‘Theatre game,’ I had a
limited amount of words available to make a coherent story. Even after humouring the bot, and continuing
with our story in tandem, it became clear to me that each new sentence would have no connection to the
last. I just had to accept that the Inferkit Bot would simply never get to the point. After playing around
with the program for an embarrassingly long amount of time, I decided to move on.

There are figuratively tons of AI text generator bots freely available on the internet, so I had no
trouble finding another one. I kept running into one problem or another. Obviously, it would be silly to
expect the level of creativity of a human, but the outputs were at best bland, and at worst incoherent. After
spending way too long attempting to get a good story, I figured out the issue. The reason the ‘Theatre
game’ works is due to players working together to achieve the same goal. The AI bots I was using had no
idea what I was doing, and why. After understanding the problem, the solution struck me. I needed to
instruct the bot as to my intentions. The best AI program to instruct is ChatGPT. So, OpenAI’s ChatGPT
became my partner for the game.

I started this assignment with faulty assumptions about how effectively AI text generators could
replicate human thought. I assumed that with the wealth of data, these programs are trained on, they
would automatically be able to read my tone and partake effortlessly in my creative process. However
even with humans, they can have all the information in the world but if there is no understanding of the
objective, their ability to help is limited at best. I chose ChatGPT because I could treat it like a human,
providing instructions and intentions. In order to keep the integrity of this assignment I kept my directions
as vague as possible. I let ChatGPT have its own input with no intervention from me. I provided one
instruction at the beginning, appraising the program of what I wanted it to do.

I am going to plug random sentences from a story I have written. you will the continue the story with a
sentence of your own. the story will be a maximum of 500 words. so there will need to be a conclusion to
this story before it hits the word limit.
-My first instruction to ChatGPT

Since the program automatically stores our dialogue, this limited instruction was all I needed. I
added one more at the end, as the program went over the word limit so I had it go back and rectify its
mistake. Though my instruction was minimal, there is a clear difference between ChatGPT’s story and the
ones made by other AI text generators. ChatGPT’s story has a clear arc and conclusion, while the others
meander, constantly adding meaningless sentences until I tell it to stop. Just from the process of choosing
an AI, I learned that in order for them to be as good a partner as a person, they needed to be treated as
one. In this instance, it means giving clear instructions that were within the program’s means. Just because
they have the information and ability, does not mean they are flawless in their understanding.

The actual story ChatGPT wrote differed quite heavily from my original piece. I started the input
process with the opening line of mine, in order to begin at the same point and see how they branched out.
My intentions when writing my story were a little nefarious. I do not believe AI text generator programs
can effectively replicate human emotions in storytelling, and aimed to exploit that fact. I wanted to be as
vague as possible while still allowing a human reader to connect emotionally with the protagonist. My
style was reminiscent of ‘Seinfeld’, famously known as a ‘show about nothing’. I deliberately wanted
nothing to have been achieved in my piece. I explicitly meant for there to be no character development, as
I thought this concept would be difficult for an AI to explicate. My tone was weary and depressed. I
aimed to impose negative feelings. I wanted the protagonist to project the feeling of loneliness. The idea
of telling a story with no other characters is not new, however, it is not often shown in traditional media.
If the AI had been trained on mainstream sources, I hypothesized it would have difficulties matching my
themes and tone.
 One constant with all the AI programs I tried was their tendency to put a positive spin on my
story. The first line inputted was ‘Today I awoke. In my estimation, this was already a poor start to the
day’. I tried to set the dreary tone from the very beginning, but however I tried, the collaborative story
always emotionally trended positively. Coupled with this positive emotional trend, every AI story, save
for the incomprehensible ones, had some level of character development or supporting characters. In my
final product, the collaborative ChatGPT project started matching my tone. As the collaboration
progressed, as with all the other AI generations, the tone of the story uplifted. The protagonist went
outside and admired nature, went to a park and met an old lady who validated his negative emotions and
finishes at a high point. This shift in tone is obvious when comparing the final lines of the pieces.

I feel a rise of panic in my chest as I drift off without answers, back to my unsteady, delirious sleep.
-Original Final Line

I smiled, grateful for life's beauty. And with that, I set out to make the most of the day ahead.
-ChatGPT Collaberative Final Line

This theme that remained constant throughout all collaborative AI-generated stories confirmed
my hypothesis. AI text generator programs have a proclivity to add positivity to a narrative. This may be a
result of the media they are trained on. Due to the fact most mainstream media ends positively, with a
clearly defined story arc and conclusion, it would be extremely unlikely that a piece matching my tone
and intentions would be generated. What intrigued me was how bland the collaborative piece was. There
was nothing that stood out about this story. It was well written, with a clear arc and conclusion. However,
it has no goal. Simply put, there is no story to tell. It did not explore any ideas of interest. The sentence
structure was similar to mine, yet the content was wildly different. The piece went in one direction, with
no cause of intrigue.

In its current form, I do not believe there is much danger to human storytelling. While the
intelligence of programs may pose a threat to some facets of the human art industry due to the
cost-effectiveness of the medium, they are still not able to properly replicate human emotions and
narratives in an appealing way. AI models would easily be able to generate fake news articles or
misleading with proper instruction, however, they will not be able to convincingly replicate a human
author. AI models have no penchant for creativity. Their ability is severely limited by the quality of data
they have been trained on. This is noted by the paper ‘Art, Creativity, and the Potential of Artificial
Intelligence.2 They contend that a partnership between humans and machines will maximize the creative
ability of both. In this scenario, I see AI not as a threat to human storytelling, but as an asset. Alone, AI
will never be able to replicate the emotional connections humans are able to have with each other, even
inanimate objects.

One of the primary concerns is the potential for AI-generated content to perpetuate and amplify
biases and stereotypes. This issue is discussed in many papers such as ‘Towards a Standard for Identifying
and Managing Bias in Artificial Intelligence’.3 The authors argue bias in AI is a significant concern,
potentially leading to unfair treatment and perpetuating societal inequalities. If the algorithm is based on
biased training data, the system will lack the self-awareness and ability to recognize and correct the bias.

While AI can be a useful tool for art creation, there are significant legal risks related to ownership
and copyright. Currently, copyright law grants protections to the owner, however, it is difficult to decide
who owns a generated work. The issue is further complicated when taking into account the data the
program is trained on. Potentially the programmer, user and data creator could all have reasonable claims
about a generated piece. Content may infringe on the intellectual property rights of others, perhaps
generating pieces containing likenesses or copyrighted materials. The use of AI in storytelling raises
ethical questions, requiring remodelled legal framework to regulate the issue. Legal considerations must
be made with specific regard to AI use, ensuring compliance.

Artificial Intelligence alone is not a threat in the context of online storytelling. A human must use
their creative ability in tandem with the program in order for an intriguing piece to be constructed. AI is
an extremely powerful tool which will have significant impacts on creative spaces. It should be instructed
the same way one instructs a human for positive results, as without a human coordinator, the output
quality is deplorable.

Works Refernced

1. Inferkit, https://app.inferkit.com/demo.
2. Mazzone, Marian, and Ahmed Elgammal. “Art, Creativity, and the Potential of Artificial
Intelligence.” MDPI, Multidisciplinary Digital Publishing Institute, 21 Feb. 2019,
https://www.mdpi.com/2076-0752/8/1/26.
3. Schwartz, Reva, et al. “Towards a Standard for Identifying and Managing Bias in Artificial
Intelligence.” NIST, Reva Schwartz, Apostol Vassilev, Kristen K. Greene, Lori Perine, Andrew
Burt, Patrick Hall, 13 Mar. 2023,
https://www.nist.gov/publications/towards-standard-identifying-and-managing-bias-artificial-intel
ligence.
4. Chat.openai.com. https://chat.openai.com/.
 Original Story

Today I awoke. In my estimation, this was already a poor start to the day. In my bleary-eyed state, I look
around my room. I try to recollect what my room looked like the last time I opened my eyes, attempting
to get the slightest hint as to how long it has been. My gaze is drawn to the open window as I feel a warm
breeze kiss my knuckles. The trees outside my window are flowering. Cherry Blossoms. It must be
spring.
It's been a grand total of two minutes since I woke up. Already I am tired. With my head still on
the pillow I look down as I feel the gentle breeze tickle the hairs on my arms. I want to remember this. I
know this is real. All I have now are dreams. I want to cherish the few moments of lucidity I have. I flex
my limbs just to recall what it feels like to move. This takes a surprising amount of energy, but for once it
does not hurt. Maybe waking was not so bad after all.
The grogginess does not seem to be clearing, yet I scan the room once more. I feel the last time I
woke there was snow on the tree branches. I cannot be sure though. I still cannot faultlessly distinguish
which of my memories are actually real. I shake my head to focus my mind and am immediately greeted
with a splitting headache. Lovely.
On my second scan of the room, I notice the flowers beside my bed. Tulips. My favourite. They
need watering but are not in danger for the moment. I see a card leaning lazily against the vase. I want to
reach over and read it. I raise my arm to grasp it, but halfway through the movement, my body decides it
has had enough and the limb drops wearily at my side. Looking to see the issue, I see that the lines of my
IV are tangled, restricting my motion. Untangling it seems like too much work at the moment. Thats OK.

I know where I am. I may have no recollection as to why I am here, but I know I am here for a reason. I
find some comfort in my familiar surroundings, though I cannot place exactly what feels familiar. I want
to know. Again I try to think, but my brain feels fuzzy. Why does it feel like this? I have been awake for
several minutes now. The hazy state I felt coming out of my deep slumber should have passed. As my
eyes helplessly search my room for answers, they fall to the tangled lines, and down to my hand where
they connect to my veins. A lump forms in my throat as I connect the dots. One word pounds in my
throbbing brain.

Sedative.

I feel a rise of panic in my chest as I drift off without answers, back to my unsteady, delirious sleep.
 ChatGPT Collaberative Piece

Bold indicates writing done by ChatGPT

Today I awoke. In my estimation, this was already a poor start to the day
As I dragged myself out of bed, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that seemed to cling to me like
a thick blanket.
In my bleary-eyed state, I look around my room. I try to recollect what my room looked like the last time
I opened my eyes, attempting to get the slightest hint as to how long it has been.
The sight that greeted me made my heart sink even further - clothes were strewn across the floor,
the curtains were drawn shut, and an empty bottle of whiskey lay on my bedside table.
It's been a grand total of two minutes since I woke up. Already I am tired.
I knew I needed to get out of the house and clear my head, so I stumbled to the front door and
stepped out into the bright sunshine.
I want to remember this. I know this is real. All I have now are dreams. I want to cherish the few
moments of lucidity I have.
As I took in the warmth of the sun on my face, the sound of birds chirping in the distance, and the
scent of freshly cut grass, I made a promise to myself to hold onto this moment - to savour every
second of it and not let it slip away like so many others before it.
I shake my head to focus my mind and am immediately greeted with a splitting headache. Lovely.
I took a deep breath and started walking, determined to push past the pain and find some peace of
mind. As I walked, the scenery around me began to change, and I found myself in a quaint little
park surrounded by trees and flowers.
Cherry Blossoms. It must be spring.
I walked towards a nearby bench and sat down, closing my eyes and breathing in the sweet
fragrance of the cherry blossoms. For a moment, everything seemed to fade away, and I was left
alone with my thoughts.
Again I try to think, but my brain feels fuzzy. Why does it feel like this?
As I struggled to make sense of my thoughts, a faint whisper caught my attention. I opened my eyes
to see an old woman standing before me, her eyes full of kindness and wisdom. "You're carrying a
heavy burden," she said softly, "but don't worry, dear. You'll find your way."
A lump forms in my throat as I connect the dots.
I looked at the old woman, realizing she must have sensed my pain and confusion. Her words
brought me a glimmer of hope and I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. For the first time in what
felt like an eternity, I felt like I could breathe again.

Maybe waking was not such a bad thing after all.

I smiled, grateful for life's beauty. And with that, I set out to make the most of the day ahead.