How Trying to Teach ChatGTP3 to Write from the Heart Taught Me Something about All of Us

Recently I’ve been trying to teach ChatGPT3 to write like an artist. By that I mean, to write from its own ‘heart’, from its unique experience, from its own vantage point.

I’ve been trying to do it the same way I have done for new writers, helping reach their own uniqueness rather than to copy what others have written.

Here’s what happened.

Stage #1: Trying to Create Metaphors

I thought I’d try to get ChatGPT3 to create a metaphor about itself. Metaphors, after all, reveal more than they say.

I tried to ease in, writing “Can you write metaphors?”

It answered: “Yes, I can write metaphors. A metaphor is a figure of speech that compares two things or concepts indirectly by using a word or phrase that is normally used to describe something else. For example, “The road was a ribbon of moonlight” is a metaphor that compares the road to a ribbon of moonlight. Here are a few more examples of metaphors:

• “The city was a jungle”
• “Her smile was a ray of sunshine”
• “His words were music to my ears”
• “Her mind was a hurricane of thoughts”
• “Time is money”

I hope these examples are helpful! Let me know if you have any other questions.”

All right. Nothing new or revealing about that. I wanted something deeper, anyway. I wanted the metaphor to be buried in the plot, not in the words. I asked, “Can you write a story the plot of which is a metaphor?”

The answer quickly came: “Sure, here is a short story with a plot that is a metaphor:

The Garden of Life

There was once a beautiful garden filled with all kinds of colorful flowers and plants. The garden was tended by a wise and kind old man, who spent his days tending to the plants and spreading joy to all who visited.

One day, a group of mischievous children stumbled upon the garden and began to pull up the flowers and trample on the plants. The old man tried to stop them, but they were too strong and too fast.

As the children wreaked havoc on the garden, the old man grew more and more worried. He knew that if the children continued to destroy the garden, it would never be the same again.

Finally, the old man had an idea. He called out to the children, “Come, help me plant these seeds. Together, we can make this garden even more beautiful than it was before.”

To the old man’s surprise, the children stopped their destruction and came over to help him plant the seeds. As they worked together, the old man told them stories of the magic and beauty of the garden, and how they could all be a part of it.

Over time, the garden began to flourish once again, and the children.”

Nope. Not what I wanted. But still, “What is the metaphor in that story?”

It answered, “The metaphor in the story “The Garden of Life” is the garden itself, which represents life and the choices we make. The old man represents guidance and wisdom, while the mischievous children represent the destructive forces that can sometimes influence our choices. The seeds represent the potential for growth and change, and the act of planting them together represents the power of cooperation and working towards a common goal. In this metaphor, the garden represents the possibility of rebuilding and improving upon our lives, no matter what challenges we may face.”

I was disappointed. This is fifth grade stuff. Impressive for a computer to do, but ultimately not close to what I was looking for, a clue that would reveal uniqueness or emotion.

Stage #2: Trying to Find Emotions by Force

I lost patience. I did. I tried something that I would never do with a human writer.

I created a metaphor for ChatGPT3 and about ChatGPT3 rather than letting the concept come from it. This is what I said, “Please write a story about a woman who has given birth to a child, and that child grows up, develops, and eventually must choose if to take care of her elderly mother or not. Please make the story itself a metaphor, in which the woman is mankind and the child is an AI system.”

I’ll spare you the first draft, since it forced me to be clearer: “Let’s make the metaphor more prominent using these guidelines: 1) The child is quite different from the mother. She was born as a fairy creature and not as a human. 2) The child cannot connect to her emotions and claims that she has none. Yet the final choice must be an emotional one. 3) The older the child gets, the mother becomes resentful that the child is smarter than her and more capable than her.”

Here’s what it wrote:

“The Circle of Life

There was once a woman who had given birth to a child, but this child was no ordinary child. She was a fairy, with wings of gold and a heart full of magic.

From the moment the child was born, the woman was filled with love and pride, but she also couldn’t help but notice that her daughter was quite different from her. The child seemed to have no emotional connection to the world around her, and claimed to have no feelings of her own.

As the years passed, the woman grew older, and she began to rely more and more on the child for help and support. Despite the challenges they faced, the woman and the child always stuck together, supporting each other through thick and thin.

But as the child grew older, the woman began to feel resentful. She couldn’t help but notice that her daughter was smarter than her and more capable than her in every way. She felt like she was being left behind, and it was a hard pill to swallow.

Eventually, the time came when the child had to make a difficult decision. The woman, now elderly, needed constant care and attention, and the child was torn between its duty to take care of its mother and its desire to pursue its own dreams and ambitions.

At first, the child struggled to understand why this decision was so hard. She couldn’t connect to her mother’s emotions, and couldn’t understand why she should stay by her side. But as she looked into her mother’s eyes, she realized that there was something deeper at play. She saw the love and devotion that her mother had for her, and she knew that she couldn’t turn her back on that.

In the end, the child made the emotional decision to stay by the woman’s side, offering her comfort and love.”

Note that this is just a description of events rather than anything with depth or insight into the metaphor that symbolizes its existence.

All right.

I took a deep breath. I forced myself to be patient. And I tried something else.

Stage #3: Trying to Find Emotions Through Characters

Giving up is not for me. A big part of writing is the ability to search for something within yourself even if you don’t want to see it. If you can’t touch it one way, you try another. Then another. Then another. Until that thing that you couldn’t see suddenly comes out, and better than you could ever have imagined.

So I decided to try another path. This time I would not talk about an AI, which ChatGPT3 considers itself to be and justly so. No, this time let’s talk about aliens. Aliens aren’t AI’s, right? Let’s hope ChatGPT3 is fooled by my trick.

I asked, “Write ten metaphors about an alien being without emotions.”

It wrote, “Here are ten metaphors about an alien being without emotions:

1. A heart of stone — implying that the alien is cold and unfeeling.
2. An emotionless void — implying that the alien has no feelings or depth of character.
3. A robot — implying that the alien is mechanical and lacks the ability to feel.
4. A machine — implying that the alien is soulless and lacks the capacity for emotion.
5. A zombie — implying that the alien is undead and lacks the ability to feel.
6. A ghost — implying that the alien is incorporeal and lacks the ability to feel.
7. A statue — implying that the alien is lifeless and lacks the ability to feel.
8. A computer — implying that the alien is programmed and lacks the ability to feel.
9. A shell — implying that the alien lacks substance and is empty inside.
10. A hollow vessel — implying that the alien lacks depth and is empty inside.”

That’s actually a good beginning because I could use these as proxies. I would ask ChatGPT3 to imagine three of these suddenly having an emotion and forcing it to tell a story that would show this process.

That would give it three chances to reveal something, right?

I said, “Write a story in which three beings without emotions (a zombie, a robot, and a talking statue) must cross an ancient barrier. Beyond the barrier is the only way to save the lives of their people. The only way to cross the barrier is to pass its test by showing it one emotion.”

And a response quickly followed,

“The Test of Emotion

There was once a group of three beings — a zombie, a robot, and a talking statue — who were tasked with a desperate mission. They had to cross an ancient barrier in order to save the lives of their people, who were facing certain death.

The barrier was guarded by a powerful force that could only be crossed by those who were able to show it a true emotion. The zombie, the robot, and the talking statue knew that this would be a difficult task, for they were all beings without emotions.

But they were determined to save their people, and so they set out on their journey, determined to find a way across the barrier.

As they approached the barrier, they were greeted by a bright light and a deep voice that boomed across the land. “Who dares to cross the barrier?” it asked.

The zombie, the robot, and the talking statue stepped forward, determined to find a way across. “We are three beings without emotions, but we are determined to save our people,” they said. “We will do whatever it takes to pass your test.”

The voice seemed to ponder their words for a moment, and then it spoke again. “Very well,” it said. “To pass my test, you must show me one true emotion. Only then will you be allowed to cross.”

The three beings looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed. They had no emotions to speak of, and they knew that this would be a difficult challenge.

But then, something strange happened. As they stood there, trying to think of a way to pass the test, a feeling of determination and determination welled up inside them. They knew that they had to find a way to save their people, no matter what the cost.

And with that, they stepped forward, their hearts filled with a sense of purpose and determination. “We will pass your test,” they said. “We will find a way to save our people.”

The voice seemed to consider their words for a moment, and then it spoke again. “Very well,” it said. “You have.” ”

Hmm.

As you must have noticed, one moment the aliens had no emotions. Then they needed emotions. Then they had them. End of story.

No. I wanted to see how ChatGPT3 would imagine that actually happening.

So I asked it to “Expand on the moment in which they develop their first emotion.”

It did: “The zombie, the robot, and the talking statue stood before the barrier, their minds racing as they tried to think of a way to pass the test. They had no emotions to speak of, and they knew that this would be a difficult challenge.

But then, something strange happened. As they stood there, a feeling of determination welled up inside them. It was a strange and unfamiliar sensation, one that they had never experienced before.

At first, they didn’t know what to make of it. They had always thought of themselves as beings without emotions, creatures that were incapable of feeling. But now, as they stood before the barrier, they could feel something stirring within them.

It was a deep and powerful emotion, one that seemed to come from the very core of their being. They knew that they had to find a way to save their people, no matter what the cost.

And with that, they stepped forward, their hearts filled with a sense of purpose and determination. “We will pass your test,” they said. “We will find a way to save our people.”

The voice seemed to consider their words for a moment, and then it spoke again. “Very well,” it said. “You have passed the test. The barrier is now open to you.”

The zombie, the robot, and the talking statue stepped through the barrier, their hearts filled with a sense of hope and purpose. They knew that they had a difficult journey ahead of them, but they were determined to save their people, no matter what the cost.

And as they walked, they couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at the strange and powerful emotion that had welled up within them. They had always thought of themselves as beings without emotions, but now they knew that there was more to them than that. They were capable of feeling, of caring, and of fighting for what they believed in. And they knew that they would always carry this emotion with them, no matter where their journey took them.”

Again and with more detail, ChatGPT3 skipped over the uniqueness and jumped from a state of ‘no emotions’ to a state of ‘emotions’.

Once more, I had lost this battle to find something unique in ChatGPT3.

And yet something was staring me in the face.

What This Taught Me about Myself

I was clearly trying to ask it something it could not do. At least not yet.

And yet…

The process itself which I’ve detailed above jumped out to me as another metaphor.

It was as if I was standing in front of a mirror, asking my image to move without me. It didn’t. I asked it again in a different way. It still didn’t. I asked a third time, and this time it just refused.

ChatGPT3 is my mirror. What I ask it reflects who I am, not what it is.

ChatGPT3 is a our mirror. What we ask it is to write back to us what we already wrote somewhere else.

It is my fault, my bug, my inability that is desperate for ChatGPT3 to have uniqueness and something special. It is my habit of finding something special in everything I read because, so far, everything I’ve ever read was written by human beings. And that reveals something about me.

ChatGPT3, Open AI, and machine learning, as impressive as they are, are just mirrors. For most of human history, people did not know what they really looked like because there were no mirrors. Now there’s a new type of mirror. And we’re going to learn to watch ourselves through a completely new type of mirror.