Is AI killing whisky writing?

To try and ascertain what the role of the ‘whisky writer’ is in the age of AI it’s best to first ask what the role of the whisky writer used to be. The job was to ask questions and pass on information, write profiles of distilleries, explore history, interview people, describe the landscape of the industry and the countries where whisky was made. Is there any need for any of that when you can ask ChatGPT a question and get an answer a millisecond later? 

What is the answer though? It has been assembled from a mash of stolen articles, or information given by brands. It appears sufficient to satisfy a casual enquiry, but how accurate is it? 

As James Meek wrote in a recent piece for the LRB, ‘AI doesn’t care.’ It simply interacts with the data which has been inputed. It doesn’t ask the question, or interrogate the answer. It simply compiles it and then its response becomes gospel, errors and all.

A case in point. Recently, Fionnán O’Connor and I were asked the hoary old question about why Irish whiskey has a ‘e’. It’s one which, frankly, we’re tired of answering – there’s so much more interesting stuff to talk about. After being politely rebuffed, our questioner turned to ChatGPT and immediately got an answer. It was wrong. It even had a made-up quote from a reputable source … one Fionnán O’Connor. 

For anyone asking the same question, this was now the truth. It might seem trivial, a small glitch which can be corrected, but it is just one example of how the truth is steadily being eroded. 

I’ve been debating on a regular basis with AI advocates, all of whom praise its usefulness in finding references, of how it takes away some of the drudgery of research, and the more tedious tasks of writing press releases, back labels, tasting notes, précis of brands’ histories. ‘It frees you up,’ they say. ‘To do what?’ is my response. ‘To find another job?’ 

Why should brands write a tasting note or a brand message when AI can do the job for them? Why have copywriters or PRs? Are photographers surplus to requirements?

A writer’s job is similar to AI’s in the sense that it is concerned with the acquisition of information. The difference is that the writer uses their wisdom, intelligence and experience to then place that information in context. Writers ask the question which AI cannot answer, ‘Why?’ Or rather, they should. 

We have already seen long-form journalism being replaced by lists, scores, and snippets of information. Many brands feel it is better for a new release to be cradled by an influencer than having to answer questions about it. Press releases are reprinted without thought, repeating the false history – which today is increasingly likely to have been created by AI. When the falsities are printed, who corrects?

We are training AI to train us because we are inherently lazy. If all we want are endless best-ofs, scores, and announcements of yet more medals, or a dumbed-down ‘brand message’ then AI will provide. We are complacently accepting a virtual reality and ignoring, er, reality itself.

This begs the question, do brands care? Do they want to talk to people – be they the trade, consumers or writers? For the past decade the majors have been steadily withdrawing access to the decision makers. Interviews have been replaced by curated press releases, and now AI. They control their own narrative. 

The only defence against this is to write, talk, and create. To find new and better ways to stay one step ahead and one step to the side, because creativity comes when you go off piste and ask that ‘why?’, when decisions are challenged and questioned. 

Writers should be happy to be an irritant, the pebble in the corporate shoe. AI has no imagination, or power of reasoning. It has no intentionality. All of these are writing’s strengths. 

As an experiment, I asked Chat GPT to write me a tasting note, which it did in around three seconds. It was slightly odd, but was more than passable. It also reinforced how formulaic the ‘tasting note’ has become, so thank you (and at the same time, curse you). 

What was more significant was what the AI note didn’t contain. It was simply a list of descriptors, bereft of any suggestion of a subjective, human response – how the whisky made it feel, that emotional and oft-irrational response of a liquid to memory and to meaning.

If AI cannot comprehend nuance, or desire, then fill your writing with it. If it is easy for it to write a piece in one particular way, then do it differently. It doesn’t have a sense of humour, so use your own. Find the true histories. Reject the formulaic, do what it can’t. Be human. Feel. 

Thinking this way opens up new opportunities. Non-AI writing must be inclusive and appeal to those who don’t drink whisky, but who are interested in anything else it touches –  food, wine, art, or music. Readers who are intrigued by creativity or flavour and those who feel whisky is not for them as well as the geeks. Take a leaf from Patrick Geddes and talk of ‘people, culture, place.’

The industry needs to take risks to get new drinkers, but so do writers. If we don’t, then AI will eat us. 

Happy New Year! 

Dave