When I was doing my BA, MA and PhD, I’d read books mostly cover to cover. Straight through as far as I could go at any rate. I did not know what question I had in mind. I did not know I was looking for an answer. I read for the voice of the writer. For the combined wisdom of the words. As I read, page after page, taking in the pieces of information, the asides, the anecdotes, the nuggets of wisdom, questions would begin to form and information in the shape of partial answers was taken in. I lost myself in the thrill of enquiry and in the wonder and enchantment of knowing I was on a path to discovery. It relaxed me. It wasn’t pure escapism; it was a kind of quietening of the frantic, racing thoughts inside for a dedicated and committed lull of concerted effort for some sense of wisdom.

When you read – I guess we don’t really read it – or engage with AI you come with a question or a command. You address the AI with dismissiveness. It is all short bursts of response from you. You keep prompting in short, aggressive jabs until you get what you want. The answer must come now. The answer must be better right now from what came before. You prompt and jab until you find something you can use. It’s a very different mode of enquiry. It gives you less time or no time to lose yourself in the thrill of discovery, in what might be called the directionless spirit of enquiry.