I can always tell when you wrote it with AI
I can always tell. Every single time. And I have stopped pretending I do not.
It starts with "I hope this email finds you well." Nobody has ever hoped that. Not once, not in the entire ugly history of email, has a person paused and genuinely wondered whether their message tracked me down in good health.
Then comes the void paragraph. My own question, pitched right back at me, bloated with extra words, still sitting there unanswered.
After that, three sentences where a plain yes would have handled it. I asked if Tuesday works.
And then the long dash. I am aware it does not prove anything. I know. I have read the research, the research is right, and I still do not care. The second I see one my brain clicks over from person to detective, and whatever you actually wanted from me is gone.
And do not get clever with me about punctuation. None of you knew there were two kinds of dash before 2022. Nobody was out there defending typography in 2019. You latched onto the phrase em dash from some video eight months ago and now you are correcting strangers in comment sections.
But the thing that actually gets under my skin is not the AI at all.
It is that you sent it without moving a single word. You had the thing sitting on your screen. You could have read it once. Chopped a sentence. Rewritten the opener. Anything at all that proved a real person was awake at the wheel when the button got pressed.
Thirty seconds. That is the entire ask. Thirty seconds of your attention in return for the ten minutes you want of mine.
Use whatever you like to write it. I do, every single day. Just do not shovel the uncut draft at me and call it correspondence.
What is the one that ends it for you. It cannot just be me.
From my own experience navigating countless work emails, I've found that the hallmark of AI-generated messages isn't just in the wording but in the lack of human revision before sending. The opening phrase, "I hope this email finds you well," has become a notorious giveaway. It’s a generic cliché that AI models often default to because it’s common in many templates but rarely reflects genuine sentiment. One particular pattern that stands out is the "void paragraph"—an overly verbose restatement of a question or point that adds no real value but makes the email feel padded and insincere. When I see that, I immediately sense the message lacks a personal touch. Another classic example is when the reply to a simple yes/no question is unnecessarily long-winded. For instance, if you ask, "Does Tuesday work?" a straightforward "Yes" or "No" suffices. Instead, AI-generated drafts often produce multiple sentences that cloud the directness, wasting the reader's time. The use of long dashes, particularly em dashes, has also become a subtle indicator. The differentiation between various dash types was relatively obscure until recently, yet now it’s frequently overused or misapplied, revealing a mechanical hand behind the prose. What truly disrupts the connection isn’t the AI writing itself but the sender’s decision to hit "send" without a single edit. Taking just 30 seconds to review can transform a cold, robotic draft into a relatable note. That might mean chopping an unnecessary sentence, tweaking the opener to something more relevant, or injecting a bit of personality to show the recipient a real person took the time. Tools like humantone.io are designed to help with this quick humanizing step, analyzing tone and suggesting edits that preserve the writer’s voice while enhancing warmth and clarity. Adopting such tools can bridge the gap between AI efficiency and genuine human connection. In a world increasingly reliant on AI for communication, the standout messages will be those where technology supports rather than replaces the human touch. This balance is key—not just for better email replies but for maintaining authentic relationships in professional and personal settings alike. What finishes it for me—and likely many others—is when I receive an unaltered AI draft. It signals that the sender didn't consider me an individual, just another recipient on an automated list. For anyone looking to stand out in their correspondence, editing AI-produced drafts before sending is an easy but powerful way to show respect and engagement.
