Short · Jul 7, 2026

When Everyone Can Write

I've been watching people argue about whether AI wrote something, and I keep thinking we're focused on the wrong question.

The concern makes sense on the surface. If AI is doing all the thinking, it becomes obvious surprisingly quickly. But when AI is helping someone communicate what they already know, believe, or have experienced, the distinction starts to matter. We've been using tools to improve communication for centuries. Editors refine manuscripts. Speechwriters help leaders express ideas. Grammar tools catch mistakes. Musicians borrow chord progressions. Movies follow familiar story structures. Nobody dismisses a great novel because it had an editor. Nobody accuses a musician of cheating because they used a proven progression. We judge those things by whether they move us, not by what tools helped create them.

What interests me about AI isn't that it writes. It's that it lowers the barrier for people who have something worth saying. The engineer with decades of experience but average writing skills. The founder who understands a problem deeply but struggles to explain it. The expert whose first language isn't English. The person who has always had valuable ideas but never felt confident enough to share them. AI doesn't create their expertise. It helps translate it.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder what that translation layer has been protecting. For a long time, strong writing could mask shallow thinking, while brilliant ideas got overlooked because they weren't communicated well. That balance seems to be shifting. Beautiful prose is becoming less impressive on its own. The thinking behind it matters more than ever.

If someone lacks experience, curiosity, or original perspective, AI can't hide it for long. The words may sound polished, but the substance quickly runs out. Ask a few thoughtful questions and the difference becomes obvious. On the other hand, when someone has spent years solving difficult problems, learning from failure, and developing judgment, AI becomes an amplifier. It helps them communicate more clearly without changing the source of the ideas.

We're entering a world where the quality of writing is becoming less predictive of the quality of thinking. The question isn't whether AI helped write something. It's whether a human had something worth saying. That shift feels like it reveals something about how legitimacy has worked in organizations. Writing ability became a proxy for understanding because we needed some way to decide whose ideas to take seriously. It was never a perfect proxy, but it was better than nothing.

What happens when that proxy stops working? My suspicion is we find out how much organizational infrastructure exists to compensate for a bottleneck that was never really about understanding in the first place.