Developing authentic voices is one of the hardest things in the age of AI.
Here’s what to think about when jumping on the personal branding trend. Above all, make sure you don’t sound like everyone else.
to fall in love with Galatea.
In his Metamorphoses, Ovid tells of the legendary sculptor Pygmalion. He abandons all interests in women. But, you see, he falls in love with the sculpture of a woman made by his hands.
He’s so in love, that he begs Aphrodite to bestow upon him a bride who will bear the likeness of his “ivory girl”.
Moved, Aphrodite grants his wish and brings the statue to life.
Thus Galatea is born.
Today, Galatea is said to be one of the first seeds of the idea of artificial intelligence, dating back to antiquity.
Once, a deity was needed. Today, a human is enough.
A week ago, while browsing through the traffic sources of my website, I discovered a contemporary Galatea. But am I smitten?
It turns out a few AI chatbots are quoting my articles, bringing traffic.
Classic search engines.
Those are well-researched, optimized, formatted, and highly ranked articles for my side projects and ones I’ve written in my career as a content writer.
Of course, chatbots claim to be influenced not by SEO, but by:
- authoritative,
- relevant,
- insightful,
- and understandable content, thoughts, and ideas.
All belonging to someone else.
At least until chatbots start quoting themselves. And then what?
AI reflects what we teach it. It has no innate authenticity. Like Galatea didn’t possess life before Aphrodite gifted it to her. And that raises some important questions we must ask ourselves when we tell stories:
- Have we traded authenticity for efficiency?
- Does AI determine authority and how do we gain trust?
- Are we ready for AI to turn our ideas and stories into an echo?
Whether Aphrodite did Pygmalion a disservice is up for debate. My advice?
In the age of retellings, find your unique, authentic voice.
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Credits:
- Pygmalion Adoring His Statue by Jean Raoux, 1717
- Pygmalion by Jean-Baptiste Regnault, 1786
I’m M. K., and I share unexpected storytelling lessons.
