Have you ever suspected people who “play devil’s advocate” are often expressing their actual opinions, but without having to take responsibility for them?

I worked in the tech industry a while. I should be more interested in ChatGPT. Why am I crouched against it? Stodginess? Instinct? Paranoia?

I’ve read Farhat Manjoo since he covered tech at Slate. He’s now at the New York Times, and is exploring how ChatGPT can be useful to the journalist.

It proves invaluable, he writes, “in digging up that perfect word or phrase you’re having trouble summoning… I’ve spent many painful minutes of my life scouring my mind for the right word. ChatGPT is making that problem a thing of the past.”

Here’s my devil’s advocate response, except it’s my real opinion: Isn’t the painful scouring of one’s mind for right words a fortifying activity in itself, like how a muscle needs exertion in order not to atrophy? Is our farming out of such mental activity to a machine not a further step down the slippery slope to early-onset senescence occasioned by cerebral decadence resulting from septic brain stasis?

On reliability: It’s known that ChatGPT can spout convincing bull along with good stuff. A colleague of Manjoo’s suggests giving it the same credence as to a “blabbermouth blowhard at a bar” who is three sheets to the wind. Sometimes he knows what he’s talking about. Figure out when.

Fine and dandy, but how often do you want to hang out with blabbermouth blowhards in bars?

(Farhat Manjoo, “ChatGPT Is Already Changing How I Do My Job,” New York Times, 4-21-23)

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