Will AI replace copywriters? | Willow & Blake

As we gently peel ourselves off the bacardi-sticky floors of the holiday season, heads pounding with the memory of political skirmishes with distant family members, hands clammy from carving the ham under keen observation, ears bleeding from being asked “wIlL AI sTeAl YoUr jOb?” for the umpteenthousandth time…we might take a moment to really consider that question.

We should pause. Resist the urge to lob a piece of rare roast beef across the Christmas table at the offending uncle. Sit calmly in the sober light of the new year and rationally consider the professional implications of our culture’s recent boom in artificial intelligence.

Here I am. 

Calm. Rational. Relatively sober.
Considering: Will AI steal my job?

I’ll start this exploration with the basics: I am a copywriter, which means I write creatively for commercial purposes. Can AI do this? Yes, it can.

AI can do anything—in the same way that an intern who’s too scared to say “no” can do anything. AI wants to please you, even at the expense of the truth. It will provide a response to your question, even if your question is unanswerable (see recent instances of AI “hallucinations” in the Federal Circuit Court).

So, if you ask ChatGPT to do what I do (come up with a brand name, a tagline, define your brand’s character through words alone), it will do it. Task accomplished. Question answered: Yes, AI could replace me.

BUT (you knew this was coming!) AI is missing something critical to great copy: human perspective.

AI peers at reality through the keyhole of data. It can’t fling open the door and see the world with fresh eyes. Chat will never experience the befuddled incredulity of being asked to tip your waiter on the QR code you just used to order your own meal (?!). It can’t salivate at the smell of a bloody steak or see how Melbourne’s outfits are, day by day, getting their colour and texture back as we get restless after years of ascetic minimalism. Everything it produces is a reference to a reference of something that a real person already experienced. In this infinite photocopying process, AI misses the dimensions of life, the subtle shifts of culture, and the nuance of expression.

To give an example of the difference between copy that comes from human experience and copy that comes from processed data, I asked AI to write this blog for me. I even fed it some of my own writing to help it nail the tone (which it describes as acerbic and witty, by the way. Ass-kisser.) Here was Chat’s intro: 

“Will AI steal my job?

Short answer: yes.

Longer answer: not in the way you think — and probably not your job, if you’re doing it properly.

AI has entered the chat, and like every new technology before it, it’s been greeted with a mix of breathless optimism and existential dread.”

It’s passable. I’ll give credit for “breathless optimism and existential dread”; that’s more sophistication than I can usually wring out of it. But compare the above to what I actually wrote. The difference is vast and bland.

AI relies on familiar linguistic frameworks (short answer/long answer), and even familiar word pairings (breathless optimism/existential dread). There’s nothing wrong with familiarity, but it lulls—like an old song whose lyrics you know by heart, but the meaning of which you’ve never stopped to think about. 

And it can make an argument, sure (AI might steal my job, but not in the way you think), but that argument often feels tepid. Because it can only pull from existing, published opinions, the output tastes like reheated nachos. Moreover, if every brand uses Generative AI, every brand will start to sound the same. As it floods the internet with this mediocre drivel, it will keep regurgitating, reheating and reabsorbing its own beige, vaguely cheesy mush.

The alternative is a copywriter and a blank page. Instead of rifling through all the mediocre copy in the world, they’ll only remember the words that changed them. Instead of obediently responding, they’ll interpret and challenge your brief. And most importantly, instead of scanning a million colourless data points, they’ll rifle through a cabinet of human experiences. In the case of what I wrote above, human experience of the holidays. But when it comes to copywriting, that human experience could extend anywhere. 

Beautiful pieces of copy marry this insight with technical skill (grammar, structure) and creative discernment (rhythm, sonorousness, humour, etc). Some examples:

Apple’s tagline “Think different.” comes from the human insight that we all want to be individuals, and that our technology shapes thought. Its rhythm is short and sharp, indicating clarity and simplicity. It’s not harsh though; the bright i and soft ffs keep it lofty and light. 

Nike’s tagline “Just do it.” has a deep observation buried within it; the greatest obstacle to our greatness is inaction. But the tagline isn’t “do it”. The simple addition of the word “just” takes this line from statement to dialogue. Suddenly, it feels spoken. Shouted, even. Like the encouragement of an impatient coach. 

These pieces of copy aren’t beautiful for beauty’s sake. They build brand and move product. But even such a rational goal requires artistic means. 

So, here’s my prediction:

Everyone from small start ups to big players will use AI as their starting place for copy. Some will call that good enough, and spend their money on placement, promotion and spray ‘n’ pray media buys. Their Chat-generated copy won’t help them, but it mightn’t hurt them.

Others will realise that AI is just that: a starting place. And if they want to cut-through with something sharper and less fickle than price, they’ll use us copywriters. To prompt AI creatively, to discern its good ideas from its shit ones, to edit its 1,000 word rambles and, yes, to write. From scratch.

Because people don’t fall in love with robots. They don’t fall in love with brands, either. They fall in love with people. And writing that has a pulse, instead of an electrical current, feels alive, unpredictable, and emotionally resonant. 

So no, I don’t think AI will steal my job. Because while it has access to an unthinkable amount of data, it doesn’t have access to our world. This complex physical and emotional reality, furnished with everything from dog-fights to ducklings at the park, the weird mushiness of a first kiss to the slow, sweaty realisation that you have food poisoning—this is a copywriter’s special sauce. 

If you want to write some great copy, get off Chat for a second. Start by living in a body, in the real world, and paying close attention.

And if you can't, hire us.