Hidden in Plain Sight
Latency, Creativity, and the Human-Centric Approach to AI
I spent last Sunday evening planning this week.
I really wanted to get involved in watching as many AI Impact Summit sessions that were relevant to my life, and the high level speeches by the Heads of State too.
For ages, I’ve quietly tried to figure out how AI can impact the two practices that I am indulging in - writing and artwork.
I proudly say in all my bios that I write words and draw lines.
This reflects back on the concept of my practices being living entities, not stagnant labels.
I am a doer, a verb.
Not a noun.
With the fast-paced technology taking over the conversation, I have wondered how I can adapt myself with this changing world too.
I realise this week I didn’t know I cared this much about it, and that I don’t want to completely reject it.
Here, my old boss’ advice is still ringing in my ears - adapt or die.
But I think, as a nation we’re still hugely sceptical about what AI means for our daily lives.
Rishi Sunak, who hosted the inaugural AI Summit at Bletchley Park in 2023, reiterated in the Summit in New Delhi this week that we still fear it as a society because we don’t really understand it.
He advocated for AI literacy, and it was heartening to see him and David Lammy be on the same page about our aspirations for AI technology, despite them both being from different political parties.
Now, as a principle, nothing can take away the concept of writing on a piece of paper with a pen.
Nor will anything take away the concept of drawing on a canvas.
The principle, the root, and starting point will never be erased.
But we also must embrace change.
And I actually did.
When I started writing, I was part of a community who turned up daily to add to their spaces.
I ended up self-publishing a book.
We were a community of like-minded creatives, but it wasn’t the usual editor and publishing path.
Editing became a part of the process that I had to figure out differently.
Self-publishing brought authorship unconventionally without the gatekeeping of the publishing industry.
But it also meant a gap in ensuring any book I wrote was ‘market ready’.
AI has since helped me, as a tool, to better my writing.
Does it write for me?
Hell no.
I am a sovereign individual.
I have spent years trying to find my voice. I won’t lose it for anyone or anything.
I write my words, but I take feedback on a series of questions I ask it to help me become a better writer.
I want feedback on whether the tone, the intention and what works and what doesn’t.
I don’t ask ‘is this good?’.
I ask ‘does the sharing of the etymological progress come through?’
‘Give me things to think about’.
And a key aspect that I keep reiterating is ‘don’t rewrite this draft’.
This is what I would describe as latency though.
Latency comes from the Latin latentia meaning ‘a state of being hidden or concealed’, and this itself comes from the Latin verb latere meaning ‘to lie hidden’, to ‘escape notice’ or ‘to remain unseen’.
This has been my quiet tiptoeing with the technology that I would never have dreamed of would have existed when I was younger.
It entered the English language in the 17th Century, initially in medicine and physiology to describe a latent disease or infection. It then expanded in scientific and technical usage to mean a delay between cause and observable effect and something only measurable once activated or triggered.
I think this AI Summit in New Delhi, out of all of them, has been a massive trigger.
I genuinely didn’t know I cared about AI on this level until this week.
The surface level use with the scepticism was still rife.
But it was when I watched a challenge to America’s AI quest for global infrastructure dominance by India on a much more focussed scale it made me wake up a little more.
This is even truer by the launch of the MANAV vision by Narendra Modi yesterday.
Manav, the Hindi word for ‘human’, serves as an acronym for five core principles - moral and ethical systems, accountable governance, national sovereignty, particularly the right to data, accessible and inclusive technology and valid and legitimate systems.
This genuinely spoke my language this week.
I’d even go to the extent of asserting that this was the missing link creatives were looking for.
We are able to adapt ourselves.
Co-exist - where the final word is by the human; not the machine.
Countries like France, and us in Britain, have already started to engage and implement the concept of Sovereign AI. But I think this has been similar to how I have been latent with my adapting to use AI to help my writing practice too.
It is genuinely India’s push for a human-centric, democratised global AI infrastructure that pushed me to care so much.
I feel like AI is now speaking my language because countries are also batting for their sovereign voices.
I have watched Rishi Sunak reiterate the need for AI literacy, nation first principles to ensure we aren’t fearful of what is coming in stark contrast to the White House AI Advisor who wants all countries to be dependent on America for its AI infrastructure.
I know that people still have a fear that our creative sovereignty will be taken away.
Rishi Sunak isn’t wrong.
We need to become more AI literate, and trust that our practice can exist without technology, even though it enhances it.
A fallback and foundation so solid that we’re not scared of change.
As he emphasised, much of the fear comes from misunderstanding, and even binary thinking.
He used his talk on NDTV to mention how, if we looked at our jobs on a micro-level, we would see a series of tasks.
So we could map out where technology like this could help.
It is this approach I have taken with my writing practice too.
I am able to ask questions, decide what feedback to accept, and most importantly what to reject which in turn transforms this technology from something intimidating into something that empowers me.
I am learning how to trust without surrendering myself.
It is evident even more that nations are becoming less latent by pushing for a human-centric approach where we are in charge, not the technology.
I am co-existing with it without losing myself.
I am utilising it for where there are gaps in my practice, and feeling empowered that I can get constructive feedback to better my work.
But it will never take away from my sovereignty as a writer and artist.
I can still be offline with a pen and paper, and technology can’t touch it.
Perhaps this is what this moment asks of us - to learn how to trust without surrendering ourselves.
And perhaps we should remember that principle when the world continues to change.