Writing Under Invisible Algorithms
Even with no tool open and no editor in sight, many of us feel watched. The cursor blinks and the voice flattens. A simple student report turns tense. "Sebastian has had a good year," and somehow it reads like it was written for a committee.
We scroll feeds and flag posts as slop before the second sentence. The worst part: the suspicion leaks into our own drafts. We start policing em dashes. We second-guess phrases we've used for years because they now "sound AI."
The subtle tells that make writing feel synthetic
Ghostwriter Joshua Lisec has seen this up close. He notes how hybrid drafts give themselves away: "You can see where someone has stitched together, for example, their own original thoughts with AI, where they'll kind of ramble for a little bit, and it won't make any sense, and then suddenly it starts making sense. And it doesn't just start making sense - it provides logic, reason, understanding."
Classic tells show up everywhere. The overuse of colons and em dashes. That tidy "not this but that" or "not just this but that" move. As Lisec puts it: "And it's not just about using AI - it's about using AI effectively." The point: structure and punctuation patterns have turned into fingerprints.
The paranoia loop
Writers are red-flagging content instead of reading it. Even when we're writing clean, the influence lingers. We swap voice for safety. We adopt clipped "no-fluff" prose, then repeat the same internet-isms: "niche," "brutal truth," "no BS," and filler phrases that sound bold but carry nothing.
We also self-censor style. The em dash goes. The playful aside goes. The rhythm narrows to avoid tripping detectors that may or may not work. Meanwhile, text feels less like expression and more like evidence.
AI policing AI (and people)
Here's the loop: machines churn content at scale, then machines review it, and machine-approved content passes through. "It's recursive. The AI is reviewing itself at so many of these large accounts," Lisec says. And the irony lands hard: "So now, the only writers on the internet who are at risk of being censored are humans, by AI. Isn't that horrible?"
The result is a weird market. Exposure beats expression. Provocation gets priority because it's fast to generate. Authorship feels contestable, even inside private drafts.
Keep your voice (and publish anyway)
Here's a practical system to write like a human and still ship work consistently.
Before you draft
- Create a "voice bank." List 10 personal stories, 20 specific nouns you actually use, 10 phrases you say in conversation, and 5 opinions you hold that could lose you fans. Pull from this every session.
- Decide your non-negotiables. Pick your punctuation quirks, your pacing, and your go-to transitions. Use them on purpose, not out of fear.
- Build a banned-phrase list. Add "not this but that," "here's the brutal truth," "niche," "no-fluff," and any other hollow crutches. Replace them with specific claims and examples.
While you draft
- Write the messy version offline. First pass with no assistance. Don't "optimize," don't format. Get the voice down. Then shape it.
- Read it out loud. If you trip, fix the sentence. If it sounds like a press release, add a concrete detail or a short, blunt line.
- Keep visible seams. Humans wonder, hedge, and pivot. Add a question, a quick aside, or a contradiction you resolved. It signals a thinking mind.
If you use AI, use it with rules
- Use it upstream, not on the sentence level. Research, outlines, counterarguments, and title variants are fair game. The final words should be yours.
- Set guardrails. Tell the tool: keep slang, include a personal anecdote, avoid the "not this but that" structure, limit em dashes and colons, and prioritize concrete nouns over abstractions.
- Edit like a fanatic. Strip vague claims. Swap generalizations for numbers, names, timeframes, and scenes. Keep your odd turns of phrase.
If you want structured practice with tools without losing your voice, review curated options for writers here: AI tools for copywriting. Treat tools as scaffolding, not the building.
After you draft
- Run a consistency pass. Check for sudden leaps from vague to crystal clear. That jump can signal stitched prose. Smooth it with your own logic and examples.
- Swap "internetisms" for specifics. Replace "audience" with the exact type of reader. Replace "strategy" with the two steps you actually took. Replace "value" with the outcome and the timestamp.
- Measure with human signals. Saves, replies, screenshots shared in group chats. Not just clicks. Algorithms don't buy books. People do.
A cleaner way forward
Publish something personal once a week. One page. A scene from your life, a client problem you solved, or an opinion you'd defend face-to-face. Keep it simple and specific.
Keep your quirks. Keep your rhythm. Let tools help you think, not speak for you. The goal isn't to beat detection-it's to be unmistakably you, even when no one is watching.
Your membership also unlocks:
