Redazione RHC : 5 October 2025 08:27
In 1950, Alan Turing, considered the father of artificial intelligence, was still wondering “Can machines think?” Today, more than seventy years later, public perception seems to have changed radically: more and more people believe that machines can even “create”.
The rapid advancement of AI-based big data modeling technologies— particularly the ChatGPT phenomenon —has sparked a growing sense of vulnerability among humanities scholars and practitioners.
Then the sudden arrival of tools like DeepSeek , which democratize AI, intensified this fear, especially among authors and researchers working in classical literature. Thanks to these systems, even those without knowledge of meter, rhythm, or parallelism can produce verses of high technical quality and emotional charge, to the point of composing poems packed with literary references.
For those who write, the creative act is not just the end result but a process that combines pain, anticipation, and liberation. Authors who have published hundreds of thousands of words describe each new work as a challenge faced with the same apprehension as a debutant.
It is in this experience that the author’s true identity lies: a journey no automated system can replicate. Works generated by AI under the guidance of a “nominal author” do not allow the author to experience either the joys or the pains of creation, much less to convey their individuality into their writing.
Despite debates about the “decline of the author” and the importance of the “reader at the center,” traditional literary criticism continues to rely on knowledge of the author and his or her inner world . The vitality of a text arises from the unique life of its writer.
This reflection leads to a crucial question: does artificial intelligence have an independent personality?
If this were the case, the works produced would belong to the AI itself, which would claim its own creative rights. If, however, AI remains a tool devoid of consciousness , texts generated under human command will inevitably be soulless . In other words, AI allows anyone to “fly” like a passenger on an airplane, but not to develop the ability to hover autonomously.
At the moment, AI does not write out of desire but because it is “called to write”.
He feels no emotions or formulates original thoughts.
If it were to one day evolve into an entity with its own feelings and intentions, this would mark – according to some observers – a radical turning point for humanity itself.
Today, these tools can allow anyone to achieve appreciable literary results, but they cannot allow them to experience the authentic creative process.
The essence of human life, and of literary creation in particular, lies precisely in this spiritual leap that transforms the finite into the infinite.
The experience offered by AI is something immobile and devoid of its own light; that of the true author is alive, elusive, and mysterious, capable of rekindling its brilliance only for those who evoke it with dedication.