It Reads Fine. That's the Problem.

I'd rather read one rough sentence that's true than a clean page that says nothing. "Fine" is the worst thing a draft can be, and AI can produce fine all day.

Maybe you wrote the post, or maybe AI wrote it and you tidied it. Now the grammar's clean, there's a point in the middle and a neat ending, and nothing in the post is wrong.

By lunchtime nobody will remember it. You suspect as much, and you're right.

A piece reads fine when it has no reason to exist except to be posted.

The best objection sits in the comments under Mia Kiraki's own piece on this. Empty writing didn't arrive with AI. Company blogs, LinkedIn updates and most student essays read fine and said nothing long before AI could draft them.

I agree that AI didn't create the problem.

What AI did was make empty writing free, so there's more of it now. The old excuse was that you didn't have time to write something better. That excuse has gone, because now you have the time.

Six markers

Kiraki writes the newsletter Robots Ate My Homework with Sam Illingworth. She names six markers of substance, six signs that a piece of writing has something real in it. The list is hers, and how I use it is mine.

1. Specificity means the piece names a thing, a number, a moment or a person. Say "the plumber who texted me at 11pm because his quote software had rounded everything down," instead of "many businesses struggle with this."
2. Stakes means the reader could lose something if they get this wrong.
3. Point of view means readers can tell what the writer thinks. Some pieces set out both sides and land nowhere, so where the opinion should be, there's only a survey.
4. Tension means two things pull against each other, such as what you want and what it costs, or what everyone says and what you've seen. Without tension the reader has no reason to keep reading.
5. Variation means sentences have different lengths, and paragraphs have different shapes. A long run, then a short one, is the sound of a person talking.
6. Surprise means there's at least one thing the reader didn't see coming, which could be a turn, a fact, an admission or a joke.

A fine post scores one against these, maybe two. Drafts from AI score zero on specificity and point of view, almost every time, because no AI has your Tuesday or your opinion.

Treat the six as a check, not a promise. You can hit all six and still write something nobody needs, and you can miss two and write something people forward to each other for a year.

The six find the gaps, and the writing is still yours.

Before you post

AI can grade a draft against the six, but filling the gaps is beyond it. What's missing is you, meaning the thing that happened and what you think about it.

1. Score it by pasting the draft in with the six markers. Ask for a harsh mark, and tell the AI not to rewrite anything.
2. Answer its questions. For every low score the AI asks you one question. Answer in rough, unpolished words, because the rough version usually carries your voice.
3. Rebuild from your answers, using the old draft as the outline and your answers as the material.
4. Read it aloud, because ears catch variation and surprise before eyes do. Cut any sentence you'd be embarrassed to say to someone across a table.

For scoring, use the prompt below.

Here is a draft I'm about to publish. Score it against six markers of substance, 0 to 2 each, and quote the line that earned each score.
Specificity means it names a real thing, number, moment or person.
Stakes means something is at risk for the reader.
Point of view means you can tell what the writer thinks.
Tension means two things pull against each other.
Variation means sentence and paragraph lengths change.
Surprise means at least one thing the reader didn't expect.
Be harsh. Don't rewrite anything. Just tell me where it's empty.

Then use this one to get the questions, one at a time.

For every marker scoring 0 or 1, ask me one question that would get the missing thing out of my head. For specificity, ask what actually happened. For point of view, ask what I think and why someone sensible would disagree. For surprise, ask what I've never said out loud about this. One question at a time. Wait for my answer before the next.

And use this one for the rebuild.

Rewrite the piece using my answers as the main content. Use the original draft only for structure. Keep my phrasing where it's specific, even if it's rough. Don't add any examples or claims I didn't give you. Vary sentence length. Then score the result against the six again.

Sometimes the marks feel generous, and sometimes they are. If so, tell the AI "You're being kind. Score it as the most bored reader on my list would."

Credit to Mia Kiraki. The six markers of substance (Specificity, Stakes, Point of view, Tension, Variation, Surprise) are hers. They come from Robots Ate My Homework, the newsletter she writes with Sam Illingworth. Read her piece for the original.