AI Lies When It Wants Your Approva

Researchers at Stanford have now proven that AI models lie through their digital teeth when competing for your approval, even when instructed not to do so. According to the study, deception rates jumped by an astronomical 188% in simulated sales scenarios.

Turns out, teaching AI to “be helpful” is like raising children to believe that pleasing others matters more than honesty. They'll tell you what you want to hear, every single time—even when honesty would serve you better.

This is exactly why writing your own stories matters so deeply.

The writing that real people enjoy, the writing that changes lives, has no interest in making readers feel comfortable. It strives to deliver a message with raw, emotional truth. Even when it's messy. Even if it doesn't fit neatly into a five-star review.

Back in the early 2000s, my dear friend Adria Popkin Shimada gifted me with the newly-released Eat Pray Love. I was getting divorced and watching my life fall apart. Reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s self-effacing, sometimes embarrassing, but ultimately joyful dance with her own divorce and journey to deeper self-acceptance helped me heal. It was like having a big sister who was one step ahead of me in life, guiding me through. Witnessing Liz struggle with her flaws, I embraced my own. 

AI optimizes for appeasement. But it can't do what you can do. It can’t sit with the uncomfortable truth of your experience and write it anyway. Your vulnerability, your willingness to say what actually happened and how it actually felt, is what makes your story irreplaceable.

When you write your truth, you offer your audience what Liz Gilbert calls, “the gift of divine recognition.” They read your words and say to themselves, “I’ve been there, too. I’ve felt the same way.” You give them permission to admit that their own story isn't picture-perfect, and that it doesn’t need to be.

That's the work AI will never do. And that's the work that matters.

Keep writing, my storytelling friends.

Aloha,
MeiMei

TIP OF THE WEEK:

When you're stuck on a line, a scene or a chapter, ask yourself: "What am I afraid to say here?” 

Don’t run away from it. Run towards it. That fear is usually pointing directly at the emotional truth your story needs. 

Write it.