The Disappearance of the Blank Page

The blank page used to mean something.

It sometimes meant a world of possibilities laid out before you. The start of an adventure. Other times, it mocked you. It was a giant, glistening wall topped with the sharpest razor wire ever conceived.

In either case, it was the moment right before the idea formed. Exciting or torturous. A moment of tension. Compressing the spring or over-inflating the tire.

But now?

Now, the page is never blank. ChatGPT fills it before you’ve built any tension. Before you’ve wrestled with the possibilities or the wall.

I admit it. I do it. I use ChatGPT to fill my blank page, so I don’t have to wrestle with it.

It feels productive. It feels helpful. It feels like a shortcut.

But is it serving me?

Am I — are we — skipping the part where I discover what I think, feel, and believe rather than copy what sounds good?

The blank page is the beginning. An invitation, or sometimes a command, to think from scratch.

ChatGPT is an amazing tool, but it’s not the work.

The work still starts with facing the blank page.