AI, Faiz and the fight for our words

When was the last time you were compelled to consider something utterly familiar as completely new? To see — or in this case, hear — something you’ve known all your life with new eyes and ears?

Such a moment of defamiliarisation occurred for me, and judging by the response, a hall full of people attending a panel discussion on music and artificial intelligence (AI) at Beaconhouse’s SOT Events last November in Karachi.

Sung in the inimitable voice of musical legend Tina Sani, the words of Faiz Ahmad Faiz resounded through the auditorium, evoking reminders of different junctures in the history of the Subcontinent. Words of inspiration that were penned in 1941 before Pakistan even came to be. Words that resurfaced in the 1980s as a poignant reminder of freedom and agency. Words that continue to inspire us and remind us to speak truth to power.

What, you may ask, does that have to do with AI and education, which is what I’m supposed to be writing about? We’ll get there. But first, I want you to understand that I use generative AI quite a lot. What often used to take a great deal of time and thought, and a heady mix of attempted perfectionism, self-doubt and procrastination, no longer needed to. And with that came the difficult realisation that not everything needs to be expressed just so; sometimes a functional text is just that. Sometimes.

In another discussion on AI and the future of work at the same event, Dr Sohail Naqvi asked the audience to consider the source from where Large Language Models (LLMs) were getting trained. He pointed out that it is primarily data produced by ‘the Western bloc’; those of us in the Global South are rarely providing data that the LLM learns from. “One can think of it as a means of digital colonisation that is taking place”. For those who use OpenAI’s GPT series, this colonisation is beginning to show.

Certain words and phrases are instant giveaways that this school assignment, this college application, this written feedback, this ad copy, this speech, this email, this newspaper article was produced by AI. Larger questions of philosophy, belief systems, attitudes and worldviews embedded in data and language notwithstanding, we are also shedding the spellings of our former coloniser – to whom Faiz Sahib alluded in his aforementioned words – and using American spellings, because that’s what ChatGPT uses. What then of Urdu, and our regional languages and dialects?

Bol zabaan abb takk teri hai….

In a panel discussion on AI and education, Jazib Zahir argued that AI and its use is “not just about wealthy people… it’s a game-changer at every level in education” while Dr Pervez Hoodbhoy countered that he did not think AI was going to cause “any kind of significant change in Pakistan’s educational system” because what is needed for a change in education is “a change in our social values”. According to Athar Osama, also a panellist in the same session, Pakistan primarily produces low-level knowledge workers, and it is low-level knowledge work that is going to be most affected by AI. Where does that leave us?

“Currently, Pakistan has the world’s second-highest number of out-of-school children” — an estimated 22.8 million children aged 5-16 (Unicef). Given that alarming figure, conversations about AI adoption seem almost frivolous. But they are not. The millions who do not get formal education are already at a disadvantage. With AI in the mix, those who do make it through some years of schooling in our part of the world are now also likely to suffer.

AI adoption across industries is affecting human labour: “For poorer countries, this is engendering a new race to the bottom where machines are cheaper than humans…. The people most impacted are those with lower education levels and fewer skills, whose jobs can be more easily automated.” (R Adams, foreignpolicy.com, December 17, 2024). Machines are not only cheaper but are also less temperamental, less demanding, and less likely to protest.

Tera sutwan jism hai tera – Bol, ke jaan ab tak teri hai…

As we navigate a world that is simultaneously excited and trepidatious about AI, there is an acknowledgement that humankind has already lived through many pivotal moments that brought about rapid exponential change and survived. With innovations like the assembly line and more recently, the internet, we have hoped that it will push us away from routinised work towards greater creativity.

A viral tweet read, “I want AI to do my laundry and dishes so that I can do art and writing, not for AI to do art and writing so that I can do my laundry and dishes”. It seems, though, that art and writing are where generative AI wants to interfere, and my laundry and dishes are still piling up.

Yet we must believe that the human spirit is indomitable. It is this faith that can allow us to keep the trepidation at bay. Tina Jee, when speaking about her journey in the musical industry acknowledged the value of tools that help with training vocalists, or with composing, and recording music. “I know that today I can get out of the studio in one hour lekin mujhe barri tishnagi lagi rehti hai” – the longing for hours of exchanges of ideas and cups of tea, the synergy between people. The creative process demands this synergy, demands the agony of self-doubt, perhaps, because the reward of a job done is then incomparable.

This year, Unesco dedicated the International Day of Education on January 24 to AI: “AI offers major opportunities for education, provided that its deployment in schools is guided by clear ethical principles. To reach its full potential, this technology must complement the human and social dimensions of learning, rather than replace them. It must become a tool in the service of teachers and pupils, with the main objective being their autonomy and well-being” (Unesco Director-General Audrey Azoulay).

Autonomy and agency. Let us not forget that we give over our agency when we let AI do our thinking. For this particular piece, I didn’t use AI tools, even when tempted. Yes, I missed deadlines, I procrastinated (by washing dishes, I might add), and I agonised. I am rusty. For teachers, examiners and students, there is very little that can stop them from using these tools, and no check on when and whether it is acceptable. However, we must not forget that the answers and output from these tools is not benign; the words we use, the texts we read, and the songs we hear, do change us.

And so, in a conversation about AI and music, about whether an artist should give over their voice, catalogue, likeness and legacy to AI, and what it means to choose to sing certain songs at certain political junctures, Tina Jee reminded us that she sang ‘Bol’ when it was banned. She sang the first two lines and suddenly stopped. “Isn’t that funny? Listen to the words.” We heard Faiz Sahib’s words once more.

Bol ke labb azaad hain terey

Bol zabaan abb takk teri hai

Tera sutwan jism hai tera

Bol, ke jaan ab tak teri hai – Bol.

The writer is an educationist and communication specialist, currently associated with the Beaconhouse Group.