Who Is the Author? Authenticity in the Age of AI

At a working session held at Google’s Amsterdam headquarters, organised by the Dutch Employers Association (VNO-NCW West) we, Schmuki Digital & AI Agency, led a workshop on AI and ethics.

The theme was broad: AI is now embedded in voice systems, search, chatbots, and decision-making processes. But within the group discussion, a more personal and immediate (ethical) issue surfaced: how to use AI, especially language models, without losing authenticity.

Are you still saying what you mean? Is it in your tone, your words, your timing? Or has it quietly become part of a broader stream of AI content: well-structured, grammatically sound, but ultimately indistinct? Just another drop in what’s starting to look like a wave of synthetic, well-packaged, but empty communication.

The word authenticity came up again and again. And it pointed to something important: when AI enters the creative process, we need to ask not only whether something works, but whether it’s still ours.

Finding direction in the language

When I start to loose direction I study the language, the etymology of the words.

The word author comes from the Latin augere, meaning “to grow” or “to originate.” An author isn’t just someone who writes something down, they’re the one who makes it possible, let it grow into the world.

Authentic is related. It comes from the Greek authentes: “one who does things with their own hands.” In other words, someone directly involved. Not copied or simulated, the real source.

Maybe the most human thing we can do, in the age of AI, is to take responsibility for what we say—and to mean it. That’s where trust begins.

In a time when machines can now generate fluent text in seconds, this original meaning becomes more relevant, not less. The difference between content that’s crafted and content that’s produced is not just philosophical—it’s practical. It gives authority.

Use AI to execute and for vision

The real shift isn’t just in how fast content is made. It’s in where the vision comes from. More and more, businesses let AI systems suggest not only the words, but the topics, the tone, and even the timing. That’s efficient—but it also moves the centre of gravity away from the human, the maker, the one who knows why something matters.

AI can structure, rewrite, improve, or speed things up. It’s a tool. A sharp one. But it shouldn’t be asked to lead. The vision—the decision of what’s worth saying, and why—still needs to come from someone. Preferably someone who’s lived it. Seen the inside of a problem. Thought it through. That’s where value is created.

Without that, we end up with content that (maybe) performs, but doesn’t connect. That follows trends, but doesn’t say anything new. That fills feeds, but leaves no mark.

Embodied Knowledge is what we look for

In a world of generated sameness, one thing stands out: lived-through knowledge. This doesn’t need to be dramatic or expert-level. It just needs to be real.

Embodied knowledge is slower. It takes time. But it builds trust. It creates relationships. And increasingly, it’s what people are searching for, because it’s one of the few signals left that something is actually worth paying attention to.

This isn’t a call to return to hand-coded websites or handwritten letters. It’s a practical stance: choose to be the author. Use AI to support your voice, not replace it. Shape your message before you let the system polish it.

It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being responsible for what you create. Owning the idea. Showing experience. Committing to it. And that applies whether you’re a solo creator, a growing business, or a team working inside a large organisation.

The tools have changed. But the core remains: who is the source?

Not Doing Is Also an Act

In a world of instant input and infinite output, choosing not to act is a creative decision. This is a reflection on AI, growth, and intent.

Rob HoeijmakersRob Hoeijmakers