Jim Ridolfo and Dànielle DeVoss, in their article “Composing for Recomposition: Rhetorical Velocity and Delivery,” define “rhetorical velocty” as “a conscious rhetorical concern for distance, travel, speed, and time, pertaining specifically to theorizing instances of strategic appropriation by a third party.” I understood that as a fancy way to say “purposeful writing that thinks about what other people could do with your work once it’s out there.” It considers how others could interpret, restate, or directly reuse what you’ve written.
Why is this important, especially for writers in digital spaces?
For one thing, it could be upsetting at the least and personally or professionally harmful at the worst if your words were widely misinterpreted. We see this often–creators or writers put something out, then later must retract that statement because they didn’t compose the first one mindfully enough, and their point was missed.
Also, the internet–digital spaces–while often easy to edit, are forever. It seems like there’s practically a saved copy of everything that’s ever been uploaded–just ask the drama YouTubers. So, it’s pretty important to make sure you know what you’re saying before you post it online.
But perhaps more fascinating, it’s a good idea to mindfully compose your works with recomposition in mind for that very reason: there’s a chance your works will be recomposed or remixed. Ridolfo and DeVoss say this about remixing:
“Remixing—or the process of taking old pieces of text, images, sounds, and video and stitching them together to form a new product—is how individual writers and communities build common values. … Remix is perhaps the premier contemporary composing practice.”
It’s impossible to create a truly unique work. Everything comes from some other source, traceable for eons back. Your work is the next step on that ladder of remixing and innovation. So, compose thoughtfully. People may just take inspiration from you, and your work could help create community.
Remixing is vital for invention in creative spaces. But what about AI–the “ultimate remixer”?
Lawrence Lessig defines remixing as “what we do when we mix together culture or knowledge, and then give others the opportunity to re-express that which we have mixed.” Can AI truly do this? Or is its form of remixing just cut-and-pasting information scraped from public (or private?) online spaces?
In his article, “Introduction to Machine Rhetorics,” Lance Cummings argues that “an advanced AI would consider broader factors [like] the user’s reading history, current trends, and even the time of day.” That sort of sounds like mixing knowledge and culture to me. At least, on the surface it does.
However, I would argue that AI can’t truly remix like people can. It can predict very well, but it’s probable that it would only spit out the most likely of results. People, on the other hand, can consider pieces of knowledge and culture that would seem hardly related at all–and they can skillfully remix them to create something new and innovative. If AI generates something the prompter did not ask for or intend, then I would argue that was an accident. But if a person creates something with deeper meaning than they originally thought, that meaning was still created through intentional choices.
There’s an artistic passion and intentionality that drives human creation–something AI simply cannot replicate.
Comments
4 responses to “Rhetorical Velocity, Remixing, & AI”
I really enjoyed Ridolfo and Devoss’ article, but I’m not sure if I can get on board with the notion of writing for recomposition. I feel as if it could take away from the writing process. I’d rather focus more on what I’m producing rather than be worried about how others may use/repurpose it after I’m done. To me, that adds another layer of tension that I’d rather not be there. It is going to be reused or inspire no matter what. That in and of itself is beautiful.
You are right on about AI. I especially love your point about intentionality!
I loved this take on remixing with AI versus with humans. First things first, I loved the way you defined rhetorical velocity as, “purposeful writing that thinks about what other people could do with your work once it’s out there.” I think that is a very powerful way to put this method of writing. In regard to remixing with AI versus with humans, I think you are absolutely correct in the matter of being intentional. As you stated, most AI generators spit out the most likely of answers, never going off the train of thought it thinks humans have, but an actual human would think of all possibilities (even the unlikely ones). I think this is where you get into your main point of intentionality. Humans are extremely intentional with the ways they write and compose their work, which can lead them to abstract answers. On the flip side, AI can only truly give you the answers it thinks you want. In other words, AI is confined to a box of “correct” answers and cannot think of the potential “wrong” answers. AI cannot, in a literal sense, think outside the box, or be intentional with their responses. This makes for an interesting point of discussion, which I think you did a beautiful job introducing.
I agree with you fully here, but I’m going to play devil’s advocate for just a little bit, pin on my fake lawyer’s badge and see what argument I can craft. I’m not necessarily sure it will be a good one as I don’t believe in this cause, but it’ll be a fun challenge.
I will not argue on the point that AI lacks intentionality and passion. To argue otherwise is not only foolish but also ridiculous. Generative large language models cannot think. However, there *can* be an argument for the idea that AI could replicate it. If everything that AI does is a remix of stuff that people made with intentionality and passion, would that pass on to the stuff that AI has formulated? It’s pulling references like someone would who was writing an essay. Does that make it unique from a plagiarism machine, or is it’s lack of humanity the key factor in making it a plagiarism machine.