Exercises — Chapter 29: Writing with AI

Writing is learned by writing — and writing with AI is learned by doing the thinking yourself and judging the tool's output. Most of these require you to produce or revise real text, or to catch a tool's error. Where a task is open-ended, a self-assessment rubric follows in place of an answer.

Setup note. You can do every exercise with or without access to a live AI tool. Where an exercise says "ask the model," you may instead use the AI outputs provided in the prompt (they are illustrative composites, realistic of current general-purpose models) and reason about them. The skill being practiced is judgment about AI output, not access to any particular product.


Part A — Analyze This ⭐

Read each AI output or scenario and identify what works and what's broken. The skill: telling fluent-and-useful from fluent-and-empty (or fluent-and-wrong).

A1. Here is an AI-generated opening for a blog post about a database migration. Name three specific things wrong with it, using vocabulary from this chapter and Chapter 3.

"In today's fast-paced, data-driven world, database migrations have become more important than ever. This revolutionary process empowers organizations to seamlessly unlock the full potential of their data infrastructure. Let's dive in and explore the exciting journey of modernizing your data stack!"

A2. A teammate pastes this AI fact into a report draft. Which words tell you it needs verification before it can stay, and why?

"According to a 2020 MIT study, teams using asynchronous communication completed projects 31% faster, and 92% of surveyed developers reported higher job satisfaction."

A3. Two prompts produced two outputs for the same task ("explain our API rate limit to developers"). One is generic, one is specific. Identify which is which and name the prompt feature that most likely caused the difference. - Output 1: "Rate limiting is an important technique for managing API traffic. It helps ensure fair usage and system stability for all users." - Output 2: "You get 100 requests per minute per API key. Hit the limit and you'll get a 429 with a Retry-After header telling you how many seconds to wait. Batch endpoints count as one request, not one per item."

A4. Classify each use of AI below as augmentation (revising your own thinking) or outsourcing (the model supplying the substance): - (a) "Here's my conclusion paragraph — make it tighter." - (b) "Write the conclusion for my essay on supply-chain resilience." - (c) "Argue against my thesis so I can find the weak points." - (d) "Summarize this 40-page report so I don't have to read it" (and you never read it). - (e) "Give me ten title options for this article I wrote."

A5. This AI output for a performance-review summary sounds complete. Why is it structurally impossible for the model to have written this well, and what's the integrity problem if a manager submits it?

"Jordan consistently exceeded expectations this quarter, demonstrating exceptional leadership on the payments project and strong collaboration across teams. Their attention to detail and proactive communication made them an invaluable team member."

A6. A student's prompt history on a submitted essay: (1) brainstorm topics, (2) outline the argument, (3) "improve the flow of my three body paragraphs," (4) "write a stronger, more persuasive conclusion." The course policy permits AI "for idea generation and feedback only." Identify the single step that most clearly violates the policy and explain why.

A7. Here are two summaries of the same study by an AI. The study "found a modest, statistically significant association between X and Y in one age group." Which summary is dangerous, and what specific Chapter 7 failure does it commit? - Summary 1: "The study found a modest association between X and Y in one age group." - Summary 2: "The study proves that X causes Y."

A8. A developer says: "I used AI to write this function in Rust. I've never used Rust, but the code looks clean and it compiled, so I shipped it." Apply the governing rule (§29.7). Was this a safe use? What's the gap?

Answers — Part A **A1.** (1) The generic default register / AI-voice — "revolutionary," "seamlessly," "unlock the full potential," "exciting journey" are interchangeable filler that could describe anything (§29.4); (2) the bloat [Chapter 3](../../part-01-writing-is-thinking/chapter-03-clarity/index.md) taught you to cut — "in today's fast-paced, data-driven world" carries zero information; (3) it makes no specific claim and names nothing about *this* migration — it's fluent and empty, the §29.2/§29.4 failure of asking a model for substance it doesn't have. Bonus: "Let's dive in" is an explicit AI-tell. **A2.** "A 2020 MIT study" (named institution + year, the classic hallucination texture), "31%" and "92%" (clean, confident, suspiciously specific statistics with no findable source). All three are the kind of authoritative-sounding specifics the model generates to be *plausible* (§29.3). None can stay until verified against the actual study — and you may find the study doesn't exist as described. **A3.** Output 1 is generic; Output 2 is specific. The most likely cause: Output 2's prompt supplied **constraints and institutional knowledge** (the actual numbers — 100/min, the 429, the batch rule) that only the writer possessed, while Output 1's prompt was vague and the model fell back on the *average* explanation of rate limiting (§29.3 institutional-knowledge gap, §29.5 constraints lever). The model can't know *your* rate limit; you have to tell it. **A4.** (a) augmentation — your paragraph, model revises; (b) outsourcing — model supplies the substance of the conclusion; (c) augmentation — model reacts *against* your thesis, you judge; (d) outsourcing *and* a §29.7 violation if the report matters and you never verify — you can't evaluate a summary of something you didn't read; (e) augmentation — your article, you pick the title. **A5.** The model has no **institutional knowledge** (§29.3) of what Jordan actually did — it was not in the meetings, didn't see the work, knows nothing about this real person. So it *invented* plausible review-shaped praise ("exceptional leadership," "invaluable") with no factual basis. The integrity problem: the manager would be presenting fabricated assessments of a real human's performance — affecting their career — as the manager's own considered judgment (§29.6). It's the §29.3 failure (no substance) and the §29.6 failure (passing off fabrication) at once. **A6.** Step (4), "write a stronger, more persuasive conclusion," most clearly violates the policy. It asks the model to *generate substance* — an argument-closing claim — which exceeds "idea generation and feedback," and a conclusion is precisely where the essay's *thinking* culminates (§29.4, §29.6). Step (3) ("improve the flow of *my* paragraphs") is defensible as feedback/revision on the student's own text; (1) and (2) are at or near the permitted line. The violation is "write … for me" applied to substance. **A7.** Summary 2 is dangerous. It commits the [Chapter 7](../../part-02-building-blocks/chapter-07-word-choice-tone-voice/index.md) hedging/certainty failure (§29.3): it inflates a "modest, statistically significant association in one age group" into "proves X causes Y" — overstating certainty *and* claiming causation from association. In technical writing the degree of certainty is part of the claim, and the model flattened a calibrated finding into a false absolute. Summary 1 preserves the calibration and is safe. **A8.** Not a safe use. The governing rule (§29.7): if you can't evaluate the output, don't use AI for it. "It compiled" and "looks clean" are *not* evaluation — compiling proves syntax, not correctness, security, or idiomatic safety, and "looks clean" from someone who's never written Rust means nothing. The developer can't catch a subtle bug, a memory-safety misuse, or an anti-pattern, so they're vouching for code they can't judge. The gap: AI is safe in a language you know (you're the reviewer); in one you don't, you're gambling with your name on the result.

Part B — Revise This ⭐⭐

Improve weak material. The scenario is given, not the answer. These center on the chapter's two signature tasks: improving a weak prompt, and fixing a fluent-but-flawed AI draft.

B1. Improve this weak prompt. A project lead types this and gets bland mush back:

"Write an email about the deadline change to the team."

Rewrite it as a real brief using all four levers (§29.5): role, audience, constraints, and (invent a plausible one) an example of the team's voice. Supply realistic specifics: the deadline moved from June 14 to June 28, the reason is a delayed dependency from another team, and the lead wants to be honest without throwing the other team under the bus.

B2. Improve this weak prompt (academic). A student types:

"Help me write my literature review on coral bleaching."

Rewrite it so the model assists the student's own thinking rather than generating the review (which would violate most policies and defeat the assignment). Hint: what could the student legitimately ask the model to do — given a draft the student wrote — that stays inside "feedback and revision"?

B3. Fact-check and fix this fluent-but-wrong AI draft. Below is an AI-generated paragraph for a report. At least three claims are the kind that must be verified or cut. Mark each suspect claim, say why it's suspect, and rewrite the paragraph keeping only what a careful writer would publish without a source (and noting what you'd verify).

"The first email was sent by Ray Tomlinson in 1971, and within just two years, email accounted for 75% of all ARPANET traffic. A landmark 2018 study from Stanford's Dr. Helena Marsh found that the average knowledge worker now spends exactly 28% of their workweek on email, and that reducing email volume by half increased productivity by 41%. Email remains a cornerstone of modern communication."

B4. De-genericize. Here is an AI first draft of a README intro for an open-source date-parsing library (Raj's chronoparse, the running example from Chapter 24). It's fluent and empty. Rewrite it to be specific and honest, inventing realistic concrete details (what it does, the one thing that makes it useful).

"chronoparse is a powerful and flexible library that makes working with dates easy and intuitive. With its robust feature set and seamless integration, chronoparse empowers developers to handle dates effortlessly. Get started today and unlock the full potential of date parsing!"

B5. Restore the voice. A writer fed their blunt, plain-spoken Slack announcement to an AI to "make it more professional," and got back the version below. The writer's actual voice is direct and human. Rewrite the AI version back toward a real, direct voice — keep it professional but kill the inflation.

"We are pleased to inform the team that we will be undertaking a planned maintenance window during which certain services may experience temporary unavailability. We appreciate your patience and understanding as we work diligently to enhance our infrastructure."

B6. Fix the over-hedged AI draft. Asked to state a clear, well-supported finding plainly, the model produced mush. Rewrite it to state the finding with appropriate (not excessive) confidence. The underlying fact: the new caching layer cut median page-load time from 1.2s to 0.4s in production over two weeks.

"It could potentially be suggested that the caching layer may have possibly contributed to what might be interpreted as some degree of improvement in page-load times, although results may vary and further investigation could be warranted."

Self-assessment rubrics — Part B **B1.** Strong rewrite names: the *role* (you, the project lead), the *audience* (your team — and a relevant fact about them), the *purpose/constraints* (lead with the new date June 28; one honest reason — the delayed dependency — stated without blame; under ~150 words; calm tone), and a *voice example* (a past message whose tone worked). Check: did you make the model's job specific enough that the output would be near-usable? If your prompt could still produce mush, it's not specific enough. **B2.** Legitimate moves: "Here's my draft synthesis of these five papers — is the *argument* clear, or am I just summarizing source-by-source?" (the [Chapter 15](../../part-03-academic-scientific-writing/chapter-15-literature-reviews/index.md) distinction); "What themes might connect these sources I've identified?"; "Where is my structure unclear?" The line: the student must have *written* the review (or a real draft) first, and the model only *reacts*. A prompt that asks the model to *write* the review or *find and synthesize* the sources fails — it outsources the thinking the assignment exists to develop. **B3.** Suspect claims to flag: (1) "within two years, email accounted for 75% of all ARPANET traffic" — a clean, confident statistic with no findable basis; verify or cut. (2) "a landmark 2018 study from Stanford's Dr. Helena Marsh" + "exactly 28%" + "productivity by 41%" — named institution, named researcher, suspiciously precise numbers ("exactly 28%"): the textbook hallucination signature; do not use without finding the actual paper, which may not exist. The Ray Tomlinson / 1971 first-email claim is widely documented and lower-risk, but still worth a quick check. Good rewrite keeps only the verifiable/uncontroversial (email is a major communication medium; Tomlinson's early email, if you've checked it) and cuts or flags every confident statistic and named-study claim. Empty filler ("cornerstone of modern communication") can go too. **B4.** Strong rewrite states what the library *actually does* (parses human date strings like "next Tuesday" or "in 3 days" into machine dates) and the one thing that makes it worth choosing (e.g., handles relative expressions and always returns a future date; small, no dependencies). It cuts every generic word ("powerful," "flexible," "seamless," "unlock the full potential," "get started today"). Test: could your intro describe *any* library? If yes, it's still generic. **B5.** Strong rewrite: something like *"Heads up: we're doing planned maintenance Saturday 2–3am. Some services will be briefly unavailable during that window. Thanks for bearing with us — should be quick."* It keeps the information and the courtesy, kills the inflation ("pleased to inform," "undertaking," "work diligently to enhance our infrastructure"). Check: does it sound like a person? If it still sounds like a press release, cut more. **B6.** Strong rewrite: *"The caching layer cut median page-load time from 1.2s to 0.4s in production over two weeks."* State it plainly — the evidence is solid, so the confidence should be too. Excessive hedging ("could potentially be suggested … may have possibly … might be interpreted") is its own failure ([Chapter 7](../../part-02-building-blocks/chapter-07-word-choice-tone-voice/index.md)): it understates a well-supported finding into uselessness. Match the certainty to the evidence — here, high.

Part C — Write This ⭐⭐–⭐⭐⭐

Scenario → produce the document. Do the thinking yourself; use AI only as the chapter prescribes (and note where you would).

C1. You're announcing a small feature to your users (invent the feature and audience). First, write a rough draft in your own words, with your own substance. Then write the prompt you'd use to have a model help you revise it (role, audience, constraints, example). Submit both the draft and the prompt. (You do not need to run the prompt — the point is to demonstrate the correct order of operations: think and draft first, brief second.)

C2. Write a short AI-use disclosure statement for a research paper, in two or three sentences, of the kind a journal might require — honestly describing a realistic, legitimate use (e.g., "the authors used a large language model to improve the clarity and concision of selected passages; all factual content, analysis, and conclusions are the authors' own and were verified by the authors"). Then write a one-sentence note on why the second clause (the verification/ownership claim) matters.

C3. A junior colleague asks you: "When is it OK to use AI at work?" Write them a clear, kind, four-to-six-sentence reply that gives them the governing rule (§29.7) and the augmentation/outsourcing distinction (§29.4) in plain language — no jargon, the way Chapter 28 would explain it to a general audience.

C4. Take a paragraph you've actually written recently (any source). Write the prompt that would ask a model to steel-man the opposite of your point so you can pressure-test it (§29.4). Then write two sentences on how you'd use the model's counter-argument — specifically, how you'd keep the judgment about whether it's right with yourself.

C5. Write a 120–180 word section for a team's internal wiki titled "Our policy on using AI for writing." Invent a reasonable policy that reflects this chapter's principles: what's encouraged (revision, brainstorming), what requires care (verification of facts), what's not allowed (passing off AI-generated substance, anything you can't evaluate), and the verification expectation. Make it specific and usable, not generic.

Self-assessment rubrics — Part C **C1.** Did you draft *first*, in your own words, with real substance — and only then write the prompt? (That order is the entire point.) Does the prompt name role, audience, constraints, and ideally an example? The failure to avoid: writing a prompt that asks the model to *generate* the announcement rather than *revise yours*. **C2.** Strong disclosure is honest, specific about the *kind* of help (clarity/concision, not "wrote the paper"), and explicitly claims ownership of and verification of all substance. The "why" note should say: because accuracy and the analysis are non-delegable — the statement assures readers that a human verified the facts and stands behind the reasoning, which is exactly what the model can't guarantee (§29.6). **C3.** Check for: the governing rule stated plainly ("if you can't tell whether what it gives you is right, don't use it for that"), the augmentation/outsourcing idea ("use it to improve your own draft, not to do your thinking"), kindness, and no jargon. A reader with no AI background should be able to act on it. **C4.** Strong answer: the prompt asks for the *strongest* version of the opposing case (steel-man, not straw-man), and the two sentences make clear *you* decide whether each objection lands — using it as raw material for your thinking, not as a verdict to accept. The judgment stays with you (§29.4). **C5.** Strong policy is specific (names actual practices), reflects the chapter (encourage revision/brainstorming, require verification, forbid passing off un-evaluable substance), and is usable — a teammate could follow it. Generic policy ("use AI responsibly") fails; that's the very vagueness the chapter warns against.

Part D — Synthesis & Critical Thinking ⭐⭐⭐

Cross-chapter integration, finding the flaw, translating for audiences.

D1. Find the flaw. A productivity guru posts: "Stop wasting time writing first drafts. Let AI write the draft, then you just edit it. You'll write ten times faster." Using Chapter 1 and §29.4, explain precisely what's wrong with this advice — not "AI is bad," but the specific thing this workflow skips and why it matters.

D2. Translate for three audiences. Take this single technical claim and write it three ways, then say which (if any) you'd trust an AI to help draft and why: "Our LLM-based feature has a non-trivial hallucination rate, so all outputs are reviewed by a human before reaching the user." Rewrite for (a) a fellow engineer, (b) a non-technical executive deciding whether to fund it, (c) an end user reading a help page. (Ties Chapter 2, Chapter 28.)

D3. The integrity case. A data scientist uses AI to help write the prose of a memo (Dana Whitfield's churn memo, the running example) but does all the analysis herself and verifies every number. A second data scientist uses AI to do the analysis (interpret the data and draw the conclusions) and writes the prose herself. Both memos read identically. Which use is fine and which is the problem, and why does "the memos read identically" not settle it? (Ties Chapter 11, §29.6.)

D4. The governing rule, generalized. The chapter's rule is "if you can't evaluate the output, don't use AI for that task." Argue whether this same rule applies to any tool you don't understand (a statistics package you can't interpret, a translation into a language you don't read, a chart from a library you can't sanity-check). Is the rule really about AI, or about something more general? Defend your answer in a short paragraph.

D5. The thinking trade-off. Chapter 1 said writing surfaces gaps in your understanding because the page forces the logical joints you'd skip in your head. If a model writes the connective prose for you ("therefore," "because," "this implies"), what specifically do you risk not discovering? Connect this to why the chapter insists you draft before the model touches the work.

Discussion notes — Part D **D1.** The flaw: the workflow treats the first draft as *mechanical output* to be sped up, but [Chapter 1](../../part-01-writing-is-thinking/chapter-01-why-writing-matters/index.md) says the first draft is where the *thinking* happens — where you discover what you actually know and where your reasoning has holes. "Let AI write the draft, then edit" skips the thinking and leaves you editing the model's *average* take rather than developing your own (§29.4). You're not ten times faster at writing; you're zero times engaged in thinking, and you've lost the diagnostic the draft provides. Editing fluent nothing is not the same as having had a thought. (You *can* use AI fast and well — but on revision of your own thinking, not as a thinking-substitute.) **D2.** (a) Engineer: keep "hallucination rate," can be precise about the review pipeline. (b) Executive: lead with the decision-relevant point — "the AI is sometimes confidently wrong, so a person checks everything before users see it; this costs X but prevents Y" — drop jargon, frame the risk and mitigation. (c) User: plainest — "answers are reviewed by our team before you see them" (maybe not even "hallucination"). AI could help *rephrase* each (you wrote the claim and know the audience), but only you can decide *which facts each audience needs* — the institutional/audience knowledge the model lacks (§29.3). Trust it to tighten wording, not to choose the framing. **D3.** The first use (AI helps with *prose*, human does and verifies the *analysis*) is fine — AI-assisted, thinking and substance stay human, accuracy verified (§29.6). The second (AI *does the analysis* and draws conclusions) is the problem — the substance, the actual *thinking*, came from a plausible-text predictor that can't actually analyze (§29.3), and the human is presenting conclusions she didn't reason to and may not be able to fully evaluate. "The memos read identically" doesn't settle it because integrity isn't about the *surface* of the output — it's about whether the *thinking* was yours and whether the conclusions are *sound and owned*. Two identical-looking memos can differ entirely in whether a human actually did the analysis, and that difference is the whole question. **D4.** Strong answer recognizes the rule is *not* really about AI — it's about responsibility for output you can't evaluate, which applies to any tool. A statistics package whose output you can't interpret, a translation you can't read, a chart you can't sanity-check: in each case you'd be vouching for results you can't judge, which is the same failure. AI just makes the problem *acute* because its output is so fluent and confident that it *invites* misplaced trust more than a stats package does. The rule generalizes to: *don't put your name on output you can't evaluate, whatever produced it.* AI is the sharpest instance, not a special case. **D5.** If the model writes the connective tissue, you risk not discovering that your "therefore" doesn't actually follow, that your "because" hides a missing premise, that two ideas you assumed connected don't. The model will supply a *plausible* "therefore" whether or not the logic holds — so the fluent transition *papers over* the exact gap that writing-it-yourself would have exposed ([Chapter 1](../../part-01-writing-is-thinking/chapter-01-why-writing-matters/index.md)). That's why drafting before the model matters: the struggle to write the logical joints *is* the test of whether the logic is sound, and outsourcing the joints skips the test. You end up with prose that *sounds* reasoned and reasoning you never actually did.

Part M — Mixed Practice (Interleaved) ⭐⭐–⭐⭐⭐

These mix this chapter with earlier ones, so you must choose the right approach — and decide whether AI even belongs in the task.

M1. You're writing a docstring (Chapter 24) for a function you wrote, and you ask an AI to draft it. The AI produces a docstring that describes the parameters correctly but states the function "returns the user's age" when it actually returns a date of birth. Name two chapter principles that catch this error (one from Chapter 24, one from this chapter) and say what you do.

M2. A peer-review situation (Chapter 12): a colleague asks you to review their report, and you're tempted to paste it into an AI and forward the AI's critique as your feedback. Using Chapter 12's "give feedback that helps" and this chapter's §29.4/§29.6, decide whether this is acceptable, and under what conditions (if any) it could be.

M3. You need to cite a source (Chapter 11) and an AI gives you a perfectly-formatted IEEE reference for a paper that supports your point. What does Chapter 11 and this chapter require before that citation can go in your document, and why is the formatting being perfect irrelevant (even a warning sign)?

M4. You're translating a churn finding for a VP (Dana Whitfield's task, Chapter 2 / Chapter 27). You ask an AI to "make this executive-friendly." It produces something fluent. Which two things must you still supply that the model cannot, and how do you tell whether its "executive-friendly" version actually fits your VP?

M5. An email delivering bad news (Chapter 19): you draft it, then ask AI to "soften the tone." The result is so softened the actual message is buried. Name the Chapter 19 principle violated and the Chapter 7 principle, and decide how you'd use the AI's output (if at all).

M6. You're writing instructions (Chapter 22) and ask AI to generate troubleshooting steps for a device. You've never used the device. Apply the governing rule (§29.7): can you use the AI's steps? What's the specific danger if you publish steps you can't verify, and how does it connect to Chapter 22's "someone who has never done this" test?

Answers — Part M **M1.** [Chapter 24](../chapter-24-code-documentation/index.md): a docstring documents the *contract* for callers, and a wrong return description is a contract that lies — worse than none (the doc-drift hazard). This chapter: the model produces *plausible* text, not verified text (§29.1), and you must verify everything factual (§29.3, §29.7). What you do: you wrote the function, so you *can* evaluate the output — catch the error (it returns a date of birth, not an age) and fix it. The point: AI-drafting a docstring is fine *because you can verify it against code you wrote*; the verification is non-negotiable. **M2.** Not acceptable as-is — forwarding the AI's critique as *your* feedback presents reasoning you didn't do as your own (§29.6), and [Chapter 12](../../part-02-building-blocks/chapter-12-editing-and-revision/index.md) says good feedback reports *your* effect as a reader ("I had to read this twice"), which the model can't have. Possible legitimate version: you do your own review, then *optionally* use AI to check whether you missed anything structural — but the feedback you give must be yours, owned, and honest about being yours. The colleague asked *you* to read it; substituting a model is a small betrayal of that. **M3.** Both require you to *verify the source actually exists and says what you claim* before citing ([Chapter 11](../../part-02-building-blocks/chapter-11-citing-sources/index.md)'s "can I find this and confirm it?"; §29.7's "can you evaluate the output?"). The perfect formatting is irrelevant because the model formats *fabricated* sources exactly as flawlessly as real ones (§29.3) — perfect formatting is the camouflage, not evidence of existence. If anything it's a warning sign: a too-perfect, exactly-on-point reference is precisely what a hallucination looks like. Find the paper; if you can't, don't cite it. **M4.** You must supply (1) the *substance* — the actual finding and what it means (the model doesn't have your data or analysis), and (2) the *audience knowledge* — what *your specific VP* cares about, how much time they'll give it, what framing lands (institutional knowledge, §29.3; [Chapter 2](../../part-01-writing-is-thinking/chapter-02-audience/index.md)). To tell whether the "executive-friendly" version fits: check it against what you *know* about this VP (does it lead with the decision? skip the methodology they don't want? use the framing they respond to?) — the model produced *generically* executive-friendly text; only you know if it's *this*-executive-friendly. **M5.** [Chapter 19](../../part-04-professional-workplace-writing/chapter-19-emails/index.md): the email must deliver *one clear message* (bad news included) — burying it fails the reader. [Chapter 7](../../part-02-building-blocks/chapter-07-word-choice-tone-voice/index.md): over-softening is a tone miscalibration (excessive hedging), the certainty/clarity failure. Use of the AI output: take any genuinely gentler phrasing that *doesn't* obscure the message, discard the rest, and make sure the actual bad news is still unmistakable. You decide the tone; the model over-corrected because it doesn't know how direct *your* relationship and situation require. **M6.** No — you can't use the steps as-authoritative, by the governing rule (§29.7): you can't evaluate troubleshooting steps for a device you've never used. The danger: you'd publish *plausible-but-possibly-wrong* steps that a real user follows — and bad instructions can cause real harm (a direct line to [Chapter 22](../../part-04-professional-workplace-writing/chapter-22-instructions-procedures/index.md)'s testing imperative and [Chapter 36](../../part-07-writing-for-specific-fields/chapter-36-writing-for-medicine-healthcare/index.md)'s safety stakes). It connects to the "someone who has never done this" test exactly: instructions must be *tested* by someone following them, and AI-generated steps are *un*-tested plausibility. If you can't verify them (ideally by doing them), they're not ready, no matter how confident they sound.

Part E — Extension ⭐⭐⭐⭐

For motivated readers and the Deep Dive track.

E1. The hallucination hunt. Find (or recall) a real instance where an AI gave you a confident, specific, wrong answer — a fake citation, a wrong fact, an invented detail. Document it: what it said, how you caught it (or would have), and what would have happened if you'd trusted it. Then write a one-paragraph reflection connecting it to §29.1 (why it happened) and §29.7 (why the rule would have protected you). If you've genuinely never caught one, that itself is worth examining — does it mean the tool is reliable, or that you haven't been verifying?

E2. The voice experiment. Take a paragraph in your own genuine voice. Feed it to an AI three ways: (a) "make it more professional," (b) "make it more engaging," (c) "rewrite it." Compare the three outputs to your original. Write a short analysis: what did each instruction do to your voice, and which (if any) preserved it? What does this tell you about §29.5's claim that examples beat descriptions for controlling voice?

E3. Draft a real AI policy. Write a complete, usable AI-use policy (250–400 words) for a context you know — a course, a team, a publication. Cover: permitted uses, required disclosure, verification expectations, forbidden uses, and the reasoning behind each (don't just rule — explain, the way this book does). Pressure-test it against the edge cases in Part A6 and Part M2: would your policy give a clear answer in those gray zones? Revise until it does.