When and How Should AI Be Used in Writing?
The only guide you’ll ever need to get AI writing right
This was originally a guest post published in the AI Disruption by Meng Li. Check out the original post on this link.
There’s no other issue in the writing industry that’s been as divisive as the use of AI.
AI has split the writing world in two.
I’ve been writing about AI for some time. Every time I post a thought piece about AI, people from both camps will inevitably weigh in.
On one side, writers and creatives reject AI entirely, seeing it as a threat to originality, craftsmanship, and the very essence of human creativity. To them, AI-generated writing is soulless. Derivative. Unethical.
A shortcut that undermines real skill.
On the other side, many writers and professionals embrace AI. They use it as a tool to write faster, generate ideas, and optimize their workflows. To them, AI isn’t a replacement for creativity. It’s an enhancement. Much like spellcheck or the printing press.
The result is a divided industry where writers are at each other’s throats.
This debate is causing real damage:
Good writers are getting devalued as AI-generated content floods the market.
Editors and clients don’t know who to trust—leading to AI-checker hysteria, which is wholly ineffective.
We’re focused on the wrong battle—instead of debating whether AI should exist, we should be discussing how to use it ethically and strategically.
AI is here to stay.
To me, the real question isn’t whether to use AI. It’s knowing when and how to use it responsibly. Incidentally, in answering this question, I’ve also gained insight on why some people hate AI, and some are fine with it.
I’ve summed up my answer in this framework:
Conceptual Basis of the Three-Layers
Writing, at first glance, might seem like a monolithic craft—one practice with a single standard of what makes it “real.”
But that couldn’t be further from the truth.
People write for different reasons. Some write to express themselves, some write to inform. Others write purely for commercial or professional needs. The nature of writing shifts depending on intention, context, and audience.
More importantly, people look at writing subjectively.
One writer’s definition of “good writing” might not match another’s. Some see writing as an art form, deeply personal and sacred. Others see it as a function, a tool for communication that should be as efficient as possible.
This means that AI in writing cannot be reduced to a blanket policy. It’s far more complex than a simple “yes” or “no.” It’s about context.
Just as writing has layers, so do people. Psychologist Erving Goffman’s Theory of Dramaturgy explains how we present different versions of ourselves in different situations:
The “front stage” self is how we present ourselves in public—curated, strategic, often designed for an audience.
The “back stage” self is more private, raw, and authentic—something we reserve for ourselves or close relationships.
This mirrors writing perfectly.
Some writing is deeply personal—our back-stage self put into words.
Some writing is strategic and professional—our front-stage self communicating with the world.
Some writing is purely functional—the things we write simply to do something.
If people have layers, shouldn’t writing be layered too?
And, by extension, shouldn’t our use of AI be more nuanced than “yes” or “no”?
So the real question isn’t:
“Are you an AI writer or a real writer?”
That’s too simplistic.
Instead, ask: “How do you view writing? And where does AI fit into your philosophy?”
By understanding this, we move past the AI debate and toward a more nuanced, strategic use of AI—one that respects both creativity and efficiency.
The Three-Layer AI Writing Framework respects these nuances, helping writers decide where AI belongs in their creative process—so they can use it intentionally, not reactively.
This is how it works.
The Core: Deep Creations
At the center of every person is the core.
That raw, unfiltered part of us that no algorithm can predict, no prompt can replicate. It’s the part of you that carries your deepest experiences, your strongest convictions, your most embarrassing 3 AM thoughts.
It’s the real you. The person behind the social mask, the voice in your head when no one’s around.
Your core is your identity. It’s the part of you that whispers, “This is who I am” when the world tries to shape you into something else. And when you write from the core, you aren’t just stringing words together—you’re putting a piece of yourself on the page.
Some examples of core writing:
Journal entries that you wouldn’t even say out loud.
Diary entries written in a blur of emotion.
Philosophical reflections.
A memoir of your life.
Here’s a popular exampe: The Emperor’s Handbook by Marcus Aurelius. That wasn’t a bestseller-in-the-making; it was a private conversation with himself, a peek into the mind of a ruler wrestling with mortality and meaning. Therefore …
When writing from the core, AI has no place.
That’s because using AI to write these would be inauthentic, untrue. And just … weird. Imagine using AI to write your journal for you, right?
Carrying this logic, there are some people that write exclusively from this place.
These are the “purists.” The people who will never ever touch AI. Angry at the very thought of it.
To them, every piece of writing is a journal entry. It’s not just words. It’s not just writing. It’s an extension of their identity. And they can’t imagine this being so polluted.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not criticizing them.
Core writers are, in the end, doing nothing wrong. It’s their subjective view of writing, and I have nothing against that. But there are other kinds of writing, which is what the next sections will discuss.
The Mantle: Persona Creations
If the core is who you are when no one’s watching, the mantle is who you are when the world is watching. It’s still you, but it’s you with intention—the version of yourself that communicates, persuades, and presents ideas with purpose.
Think of it like this:
The core is your unfiltered, inner monologue—the thoughts you scribble in a diary at 2 AM.
The mantle is when you go to Substack or LinkedIn and write a post about “The 3 writing lessons I learned from my orange cat.”
Most non-fiction books fall under this category. They’re instructive, yes, but they are also based on the writer’s lived experience. Never Split the Difference, for example, teaches you how to negotiate properly through lessons from the author’s life.
In writing from the Mantle, AI is welcome
It’s your voice that matters here. Your thoughts, experiences, emotions, opinions. But, you can use AI to help you along.
Here, if you use it properly, AI can:
Make your first draft.
Help structure your ideas.
As long as you have your Unpromptable Voice, can create authentic content at scale.
This is the zone I reside. I use AI across all levels of content creation, and it helps me reinforce my mission, and grow my business. (And if you want help doing the same, just reach out!)
Finally, there’s the next layer up.
The Crust: Surface Creations
Not all writing is soulful, artistic, or deeply personal. Sometimes, writing is just... functional. It exists to convey information, not emotion. It’s the least personal, most replaceable kind of writing.
The type that, let’s be honest, no one is putting in a time capsule.
This is the crust—the outermost layer of writing, where speed and efficiency matter more than anything else. This zone is all about execution. Think:
Corporate presentations where clarity > creativity.
Technical manuals that explain how to use software.
Business reports that you just need to formalize and “corporatize".”
In this zone, AI is a powerhouse
Generate drafts instantly.
Organize data-heavy content.
Make dry information clearer and more readable.
And honestly? That’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with letting AI do the grunt work when writing doesn’t require a human touch.
Some writing doesn’t need your unique voice—it just needs to be done.
But … here’s where it gets tricky.
If you’ve lived all your life in shallow waters, you think it’s shallow waters everywhere.
This is where the AI hypers (for lack of a better term, can you coin one for me?) come in—the ones who confidently declare:
“Writing is over. AI will do everything now.”
Why do they believe this? Because they only write in the crust.
To them, writing is purely functional, a means to an end. They don’t see writing as art, self-discovery, or connection—they see it as an output problem, something that just needs to be faster, more optimized, more efficient.
And they’re wrong.
Because writing isn’t just a product. I will agree that some forms of writing are. But not all. Because for some, the very act of writing shapes thoughts and transforms the writer.
AI can write for you. But it can’t think for you. It can’t wrestle with ideas, challenge assumptions, or create something truly original.
So use AI in the crust. Let it take some of the load. But don’t fall into the trap of believing all writing is just words on a screen—because that’s when you stop growing as a writer.
A More Nuanced Approach to the AI Question
AI isn’t going anywhere. It will evolve, improve, and integrate deeper into our workflows.
But most fail to ask: Where does it truly belong in the writing process?
This debate isn’t about whether AI writers should be burned at the stake —it’s about how we, as writers, deal with this emergent tool.
Some will reject it completely. Others will overuse it until their words are indistinguishable from machine-generated noise.
But for me, the answer has always beein in balance and intent.
Every time you sit down to write, ask yourself:
Is this writing an extension of me? → No AI.
Is this writing part of my public voice? → AI assists, but I shape it.
Is this writing purely functional? → AI can take the wheel, with human oversight.
Mastering AI in writing isn’t drawing battle lines. It’s understanding where AI fits into your creative process—so that every word you put out into the world is either undeniably yours or intentionally optimized.
AI can be a tool, but it can’t be the entire process. That part? That still belongs to you.
What do you think?
PS. This was originally a guest post published in the AI Disruption by Meng Li. Check out the original post on this link.
Fascinating read!! I would love to hear your opinion on my latest article, tackling the idea of AI taking our jobs….
Fascinating write up. It gives you a bird's eye view of writing, and how there is a much variety in writing as there is in visual art, and how some writers live and work in multiple slices of writing.
It reminds me of writing pulp fiction. It had to be written fast because there was a hungry market for it, but it was designed to entertain people who had king train rides to work in a big city, so it was made in two different slices of the writing world that combined to create an industry.