Pssttt! Your AI is Showing!

I love AI. I use it constantly. And I can hear it from a mile away when someone else does and hasn't bothered to put themselves back into it. This episode is about why AI-generated content creates distance, what authentic actually sounds like, and how to use the tools without disappearing inside them.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:04

Welcome back to We Lead Anyway. I'm Noelle, senior leader, career coach, and your host. Here's an uncomfortable truth. I can't listen to content like I used to. Not because it's bad, because it's not authentic. And here's the thing nobody's talking about. Does any of that sound familiar? First, there's a rhetorical hook, the uncomfortable truth. Second, random assumption. Why is the truth uncomfortable? Third, a contrast, not because it's bad, but because it's not authentic. Then last, a false scarcity claim about information that is in fact widely available. And if you've heard all of that and you thought, hold up, I literally used all three of those this week. I'm gonna need you to lock in. Listen, I love AI. I love it so much. I want to be clear about that before we go any further. I use it. I think it's one of the most powerful, creative, and productive tools that we have access to right now. And I am not here to tell you to stop using it, but I am here to tell you that I can hear it. So can everybody else. When I'm listening to a podcast or reading a LinkedIn post or watching a video and I can hear the chat GPT of it all, I check out. Not because the information itself is bad, but because the voice isn't real. You see what I did there? But seriously, it creates this uncanny valley effect where I'm listening to content that sounds like content about content. I think it's a problem, but it's a problem worth fixing. So let's talk about the tells, because there are many and they are consistent. And once you see them or hear them, you can't unsee or unhear it. We'll start with the rule of three. AI loves three things, always three. Three reasons, three steps, three takeaways, three pillars of whatever framework it just invented. Why three? Because three feels it feels complete, feels solid. It's the Goldilocks number of lists. It's not too few and it's not too many. Except when every single piece of content you produce has exactly three of everything. It starts to feel a little less like wisdom, feels a lot like a template because it's a freaking template. All right, next we move into the contrast construction. You're not struggling because you're lazy. You're struggling because no one taught you this. Or it's not about working harder, it's about working differently. This structure, not X but Y, is AI's favorite rhetorical move. It sounds insightful. Sounds like a reframe. And it is, technically. But when every paragraph has one, it gets old. Now, the false exclusivity. Here's what nobody's talking about. This is the thing people get wrong. Or here's the uncomfortable truth. I love this one because the uncomfortable truth is almost never uncomfortable. It is usually some basic shit like consistency matters, or your mindset affects your results. It's not revolutionary. And then there's this suspiciously balanced takeaway. AI has a compulsive need to be fair. I love that. It's so just. It's probably a Libra. It presents both sides. It seems to acknowledge nuance, even when nuance is not what the moment calls for. So you get this very measured, very even-handed conclusion that technically says something but lands like a frontier airline pilot. Now, here's what always gets me. It's the inspirational pivot. And it makes me giggle because you're just reading something practical, like a how-to or a list. And then out of nowhere, in the last paragraph, it goes full motivational poster. Remember, you have everything you need within you. Thanks, Jeeves. I'm just trying to put this table together. Now, I would be remiss and you might be disappointed if I did not include this honorable mention, the puntier ending offer. I've received an email from a colleague, and at the bottom of the email it says, Would you like to make the ending puntier? Sure. Then I looked again and I realized not only did you use AI to write this email, but this was the ending you chose. If it asked for puntier, make it puntier. What are you new? I've received this more than once, by the way, from real humans who copied the AI output, including the offer to make the ending puntier, and then sent it to me as their own words. And I just had to mourn it for a minute. You can use AI, but don't outsource your personality. And for the love of Claude, don't forget to proof free. Delete the evidence. Okay? Here's why this is more than just an aesthetic problem. It's a little embarrassing, yeah, but your content is your voice. And your voice is your credibility. That's what makes someone decide to trust you or follow you or keep listening. When your content sounds like it's generated, even if the ideas are solid, it creates a gap between you and your audience. There's just this cognitive dissonance I experience every time. And I know other people probably feel it. They just haven't said it or can't put their finger on it, maybe. And we're in a moment where everyone has access to the same tools, which means the tools alone are not the differentiator anymore. The differentiator is you and what you bring to the tools, your actual perspective and experience, the way you would say something that no AI would say because no AI has lived your life or made your particular mistakes. You can't be generated. And right now, that's what people are unintentionally leaving out. AI is an incredible first draft machine. Love that. It's a research assistant, it's a thought partner. My partner and I actually use it to settle an argument on more than one occasion, I might add. But what it's not, what it genuinely cannot be is you. And when you publish the first draft without putting yourself into it, everyone can tell. All right, so I've taken the piss out on AI outputs long enough. Let's talk about what works better so I don't just leave y'all hanging. I don't want to just leave you with, just be authentic. That's the inspirational pivot. And I just told you I hate that. Here's what you can do. Use your own syntax. How do you actually speak? What words do you use? What's your rhythm? AI writes in complete balanced structured sentences. Most humans don't talk like that. Most humans trail off. They circle back, they make a point sideways, me, I make a joke, you use a word that you invented, like exciterated. Put that in there. You can also have an actual opinion. You don't have to have that on one hand, but on the other hand, a real opinion that you would defend in a conversation is okay. And AI always straddles the fence because it's trained to be fair and avoid controversy, even though you don't have that limitation. If you think something is wrong, say it's wrong. Overrated, unpopular opinion, whatever. What's the point of creating content if you can't have your own stinging opinion? And I'll just grab that can opener for the can of worms that I'm sure I just opened. But edit for your voice, not for polish. When you use AI to draw something, your job is not to clean it up, it's to break it. Find every sentence that sounds like AI and rewrite it in the way that you would actually say it. Even if it's messier, especially if it's messier, your audience should be able to recognize you and whatever it is you publish. So then read it out loud. This is the fastest tell. If you write something and you read it out loud and it sounds like a corporate training video narrated by someone who has never experienced a human emotion, rewrite it. If it sounds like you, you're done. And if you sound like someone who's never experienced a human emotion, perhaps you should not be creating content. I'm kidding. There's a niche for everyone. So I just want to come back to the email for a second because I think it illustrates everything that I'm trying to say here. I received that email. I'll paraphrase slightly to protect the innocent. It opened with a subject line that said, exciting opportunity to connect. Already, we're off to a great start. The body of the email was three paragraphs. The first introduced the sender, the second explained the opportunity, and the third was a call to action. Three things that tracks. The language was clean, it was professional, it was completely frictionless, and it was completely indistinguishable from every other email I have ever received from a person using AI to sound natural. And then at the bottom, at the very bottom of the email that a human being sent to me from their actual email address with their name on it, it said, if you want, I can show you a quick two-minute do this before a meeting version that's subtly enough that you could literally do it in a bathroom stall at work. I don't, I don't even, I don't, I don't even know what to do with that. It's akin to telling your family that you labored over a hot stove for them for hours and hours. And then later they find takeout cartons stuffed in the trash bin. You just gotta be more careful. I bet you even put Lowry's on that bitch just to be extra convincing. Listen, I tease about it, but I don't care if they use AI. I don't care if anybody uses AI. I might think AI in my graduation commencement speech. The problem is the absence of a human being anywhere in that email. Where was their voice? And if I'm noticing it and I'm feeling the burnout, I'm sure people much smarter and much more important than I am are also noticing it and feeling it. AI is not making content worse. People are making content worse by using AI as a replacement for authenticity. You have a great perspective, I'm sure. You can't generate that. Your unique experiences and opinion shouldn't be drawn out by a perfectly balanced, sterilized blurb. Use the tools, use all of them. Just try to make it authentic. Because if someone can hear the chat GPT and everything you do, they may lose the message because of the messenger. Now, one last thing, I know we didn't get all the way into the written portion of the AI, but nobody uses that many M-dashes. They're not hyphen, they're M-dashes, and they're stupid. If you have a topic you'd like me to discuss, email me at noelleadsanyway at gmail.com. And if you're interested in personal or professional development, visit leadwithnoelle.com. And until next time, go take up space.