I’m Not Perfect, and Neither Are You
And neither is artificial intelligence. And that’s okay.
Have you ever avoided a yoga class because you don’t consider yourself flexible enough? Or because you don’t have the right body/outfit/whatever? There’s a beautiful story about a cracked pot who was ashamed until she learned that the water she leaked was making flowers grow. It’s a good one to read or reread if you’re like me and have a harsh inner critic.
Being human means being imperfect. And, paradoxically, our imperfections and those pesky, messy emotions of ours are what make us smarter than artificial intelligence will ever be.
I know that, but I still have to remind myself, sometimes, that I’m not too old/non-tech savvy/whatever to deserve to be paid as a yoga teacher or a writer.
A few months ago, I created this website, and I published it, and I told a friend of mine about it. She tried to find it through a Google search. And nothing came up about my website.
So, I watched a YouTube tutorial on search engine optimization, which convinced me that I needed to add some more helpful content to my website. I realized that, to sell my services as an Ayurvedic Yoga teacher, I should start by defining what Ayurvedic Yoga is.
Doh!
I sat down to define Ayurvedic Yoga in a way that would raise consciousness, bring in clients, justify my existence, and, oh yeah, optimize my website for searches.
No pressure.
After staring at the screen for about a minute, I decided to plug into the matrix. I clicked the button to get A.I. to draft my blog post for me, and then I submitted the words “What is Ayurvedic yoga” in the field that popped up.
Et voila! Words. Sentences. Paragraphs. In English. Relief! The A.I.’s draft started by saying: “Ayurvedic yoga is a powerful and ancient practice that combines the philosophies of Ayurveda and yoga.” The essay then explained how the practices of Ayurvedic yoga are personalized for practitioners based on their individual constitution.
The A.I.'s essay answered the question “What is Ayurvedic Yoga?” and saved me a ton of time. I edited a bit and added a discussion of what qualifies someone to teach Ayurvedic yoga and how Ayurveda and yoga complement each other. And then I realized that there were no examples. So I edited some more. I felt really good about my first wirting collaboration with A.I. I published the essay. And now my website comes up in Google searches.
After the glow of my first A.I. collaboration wore off, I felt ashamed of how long it takes me to write a blog post and how I tend to tell at least one story before I get to my point. The A.I. didn’t beat around the bush. It answered the question. I thought: wow, it’s good that A.I. is taking over the world.
But now I see from a slightly different perspective.
Even after my edits, the A.I.-initiated writing was kind of boring, and it didn’t stick. It washed over me and felt okay going down, but after I woke up from the word stupor, I couldn’t remember a thing I’d read.
The things that made the A.I.’s writing efficient also made it dry. I was too entranced by the efficiency to notice that the prose wasn’t rhythmic or beautiful. It included no metaphors. It didn’t draw me in. It was just straight-up technical writing. The “Type ll3h and click ENTER” variety. I’ve done that kind of technical writing, and it has its place, but I didn’t enjoy it. A.I. can have it.
The kind of technical writing I liked to do, back when I did technical writing for a living, required empathy, curiosity, and the ability to synthesize many different perspectives, processes, and practices into one best practice. For instance, a manager in one plant has implemented practices that have brought the accident rate to zero, and a manager in another plant has implemented practices that have reduced the employee turnover rate, and a manager in a third plant has streamlined administrative processes. I’m hired to interview all the managers, shadow them on the job, and document the best practices used across all the plants. As I drafted the best practices, I’d do secondary research and interview employees to learn about their work experiences and perspectives. And then I’d ask the managers questions from the perspective of an outsider - me - and of employees with whom I empathized. And sometimes the questions I asked the managers helped them see things with new eyes, and sometimes we’d come up with entirely new practices.
Could A.I. do that? Sure, some of it. But could A.I. empathize? Would A.I. advocate for the employees’ perspectives? Could A.I. tell a compelling story to grab the readers’ attention, make them care, and make the learning stick?
Part of writing good documentation and part of being a good human requires being able to keep the big picture and the details in mind at the same time. The details give you the how, but the big picture gives you the why. Knowing why you are doing something is empowering. If you know why, you can ask questions and be part of the process of continual improvement. Knowing why is also persuasive. Why is it important, for example, to put on the red gloves before you thread the yellow chain around the blue sprocket? One answer establishes pathos. The red gloves will protect your hands from both the caustic oil on the yellow chain and the razor-sharp spokes on the blue sprocket. That’s a silly example, but it brings tears as I consider the tragedy of losing a human hand. Now when I read the instructions for chaining the sprocket, they won’t seem arbitrary or dry. They’ll seem essential.
Good technical writing is also about establishing the ethics of the entity issuing the guidelines. Sometimes companies haven’t thought about their values, or there are inconsistencies between the stated values and the implicit values. A good technical writer will bring to light the inconsistencies by tying policies and practices to the company’s highest values. Good technical writing can make a difference in people’s health and lives by making implicit values explicit, and by laying the highest values out for all to see and honor. Putting on the red gloves takes time and money, but employee safety comes first at Spacely’s Sprockets. Aristotle taught that persuasive writing incorporates ethos and pathos as well as logos. The best technical writing is persuasive writing.
Even if a machine could make up stories and tie procedures to values, would a machine be able to skillfully and diplomatically guide a company and its employees to do the right thing ethically? Would a machine refuse to work on a project if they were asked to contribute to an unethical project? Not even every human would do those things. Not yet.
Machines make great partners when we remember that leaning into our so-called imperfections and inefficiencies is critical for true connection and belonging. In writing, teaching yoga, and living every day, emotional connection is established through storytelling, humor, irony, metaphor, clever literary and cultural references, examples, and more. In writing, teaching yoga, and living every day, we humans learn best when we connect with one another heart-to-heart, through empathy. And empathy can only happen when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, when we get in touch with our emotions, when we take the time to dwell in messiness and draw deeper meaning from it.
Emotions aren’t efficient. Emotions are seldom the straight line between two points. But the symbol of life and beauty is not the straight line. It’s the Golden Spiral.
When A.I. can write, teach yoga, practice yoga, or lead with empathy, we won’t have to worry about computers taking over the world.
Because they’ll be as good as the best of us.
Until then, it’s on us, as humans, to show up at all times and in all things as our perfectly imperfect selves.
The Trump White House ripped out a rose garden and replaced it with a lawn. That’s what a computer would do.
I prefer roses, thorns and all.
How about you?