I Love AI and I Hate AI Written Content

I’d rather read your prompt than the resulting AI essay

I’m an avid, hourly user of the latest LLMs for planning and code generation.

I also thought it would make me a better writer - AI finds grammatical mistakes, shows me where to tighten my logic, and suggests pithy turns of phrase that wouldn’t have occurred to me.

Then I started seeing this one very specific style of writing turning up everywhere, newsletters, substacks, and (shudder) LinkedIn. It’s what we now call AI slop.

Despite be being very pro-AI in general, I’m developing a revulsion to writing that looks clearly AI generated.

I don’t know why that is exactly, because I’m not opposed to automating work or sticking to the “old ways” in other contexts.

I think it has to do with feeling like the writer is cheating on the implicit bargain between writer and reader.

I don’t want to spend more time reading a piece than the writer spent writing it. That feels like you are flagrantly wasting my attention.

I’d rather read the prompt you gave the LLM, rather than the page of text it spit out. That would give me a clearer, and more concise, version of the message you wanted to convey.

In that spirit - I’ll go first. Here’s my prompt to get ChatGPT 5.3 Instant to write a cliched essay on how cliched LLM writing generally is.

Do you see these same patterns in writing out in the wild? Reader beware.

Bad LLM writing is easy to recognize. You’ve seen it before. You’ve felt it. It quietly announces itself in the first paragraph — sometimes in the first sentence.

It begins with a promise to delve deeper.

Not into a topic, exactly.
But into the essence of the topic.

And suddenly the prose becomes theatrical. Every sentence leans forward as if something profound is about to happen. Something meaningful. Something that resonates.

But nothing does.

Because bad LLM writing isn’t really about saying something.

It’s about sounding like something is being said.

It’s not clarity — it’s cadence.
Not insight — atmosphere.

The sentences come quickly. Short. Dramatic. One after another.

Almost like drumbeats.

Each one suggesting momentum.

Each one quietly building toward a revelation that never arrives.

The structure follows familiar rhythms.

“It’s not simply explanation — it’s transformation.”

“It’s not just writing — it’s storytelling.”

Bad LLM writing loves abstraction. Concepts instead of specifics. “Moments.” “Journeys.” “Ideas that shape the way we see the world.”

Everything resonates. Everything unfolds. Everything quietly reveals itself.

The language circles the point. Again. And again. And again.

Not because the writer has more to say —
but because the rhythm feels right.

And that rhythm matters.

Because bad LLM writing isn’t trying to communicate.

It’s trying to sound like communication.