Or, Human Imagination in a World of Artificial Intelligence
These are my notes for the 2026 Raggant Fiction Festival.
A Decade in the Making
We’ve made it to our tenth Raggant Fiction Festival! How far have your imaginative coordinates expanded since 2015 when we had our first festival? Did you think some of the things that have actually happened could ever have happened (here’s looking at you especially, 2020!)? Truth is truly stranger than fiction.
After this past decade, in which I’ve done more reading and more learning and more experimenting with technology, I think reading great fiction is more necessary than ever. I also think it’s more under threat of being neglected than ever. Huxley warned of a brave new world with virtually unfettered access but zero interest. A festival like this should remind us to give thanks for our access to stories and should rekindle our interest in them.
Once upon a time there was a 5th grade kid who got home from school one afternoon and realized he was getting hungry. No one else was home, so he went into the kitchen to find some food. At first he found a bowl of old popcorn on the island. He ate a few big handfuls, but 10 minutes later he still felt hungry. So he looked in the fridge. There were no leftovers, but there was some uncooked chicken. How would he prep that?
The circumstances weren’t in his favor. Junk was easily available, more solid food took too much effort, and he wasn’t sure how to make it. A simple scenario, with a lot of analogous significance.
Maybe the most annoying but edifying and still haunting message that bounces around my mental hopper is from C.S. Lewis’ address titled, “Learning in Wartime.” He said:
“If we let ourselves, we shall always be waiting for some distraction or other to end before we can really get down to our work. The only people who achieve much are those who want knowledge so badly that they seek it while the conditions are still unfavourable. Favourable conditions never come.“
We need stories for such a time as this.
Unfavourable Conditions
Lewis gave his address 51 days after Germany invaded Poland at the start of World War II (1939). Little did we know that we’d be having this Festival shortly after a new military campaign in the Middle East. But he gave some genus of unfavourable conditions under which more species of conditions come. To his three I’ll add a fourth.
Frenzy
There is so much to do. There is too much to do. There is always more to do. The meetings and tasks and assignments add up to a bigger bill than your minutes and energy dollars can cover. Everything’s a race, a competition. Breaking news is always breaking. You are behind. I mean, what are you doing just sitting there?! Many chickens, few heads.
Frustration
This angle considers not just what needs to get done, but the fact that the finish line never gets closer. “What is the use of beginning a task which we have so little chance of finishing?” (Lewis) The things you really value, because you should, will take years of your life, which you don’t know how many you’ll have, and there’s no guarantee how much will be finished before you die. Sisyphus is still trying to push that boulder to the summit.
Fear
While you’re trying to get through all this work, what if you get cancer? What if the drone apocalypse arrives? What if the government re-institutes the draft and you are called to war? Don’t you know we could die from like a thousand things at any moment? And…I’m supposed to read fiction during all of this? Lewis was asking about the project of education, but that includes reading and writing stories.
Frivolity
Lewis didn’t mention this category exactly, but his culture didn’t have TikTok, YouTube shorts, Instagram reels, memes, handheld video games, binge-available seasons worth of shows to stream on Netflix, podcasts, and the always on never ending access to the world wide web. The only thing worse than the triviality is the apathy. And…I’m supposed to put my phone down and read a story? Like a book is going to fix my resentment at life (and God who ordained it this way)?
These are four formidable and unfavorable conditions.
Our World of AI
I am not an AI hater. I have watched it accomplish helpful things beyond just being a chat-box interface for getting answers to questions.
And also, there is a unique capability and personification of these so-called intelligences that causes a new sort of problem. If you’re not stuck in the AI part of Twitter, you probably still saw some of the 15 commercials for it during the Super Bowl (about 23% of the ads). The Department of War is using AI to conduct its operations. AI discussions will be more and more hard to escape, let alone ignore.
Consider the four unfavorable conditions I just gave but in terms connected to AI.
There is a full-court press hype about AI that has caused a frenzy just in this field. That messaging, along with genuine iterative improvements, can make a person feel that he is always behind, frustrated that he’ll never be able to grasp the full benefits of the system. Of course there are doomsday scenarios to fear, where AI will become sentient, build itself into replicating robots and drones, and we’ll end up in the Ultron Matrix. Add to that, so much of what AI produces could be found on a six year-old Reddit post, the kind written by six year-olds. These LLMs are slurping up their own material spitting back lots of slop, frivolous stuff.
So in some ways, AI is a new paint job on old problems. What’s new is that AI is aggressively pretending to have a soul, or at least the programmers want us to think so.
It’s a new kind of unfavorable condition to have interactions with a technology that’s pretending to be human, or promising to be Uber Human. When code looked like hypertext markup language and didn’t have a fake English voice, we were less gullible about its lack of soul. TV and the internet compete for our attention, but AI competes for our identity.
Men made computers, and these are great tools. But they will always be vox sine persona: voice without person. Lewis might have called them robots without chests.
The Imaginative Struggle
There are a number of counterbalances that good stories bring in these unfavorable conditions. But the one that I want to focus on is this: no text-guessing/text-generating app, however complex and personified, will ever be able to give you enough care to struggle through unfavorable conditions.
Life in a Genesis 3 world is hard, image-bearing in a world of fallen image-bearers is a burden, and a computer can’t give you a new heart or love of God or the patience in well-doing to see for glory and honor and immortality (Romans 2:7).
We are pulled forward in our struggles reading about characters struggling. Jesus told us to count the cost, and good stories awaken us to new costs we weren’t anticipating, and show us that the struggle means we’re probably on the right path.
It’s true for producing, too. In ”28 Slightly Rude Notes on Writing,” Adam Mastroianni wrote,
“Some people think that writing is merely the process of picking the right words and putting them in the right order, like stringing beads onto a necklace. But the power of those words, if there is any, doesn’t live inside the words themselves. … The beauty ain’t in the necklace. It’s in the neck. … Maybe that’s my problem with AI-generated prose: it’s all necklace, no neck.”
Our struggle to endure, our pains to grow in Christlikeness, the cost we pay to get to clarity, the deaths we die to bring life, AI cannot experience. We can’t automate grief or summarize a tear no matter how detailed the prompt.
AI doesn’t always answer immediately, but it isn’t exhausting itself. It runs out of tokens in a session, but not because it’s getting tired. There’s no Claude break-room, no matter how stupid the questions from users have been all day long. The AI doesn’t even struggle with feeling bad when it gets something wrong. It breezes over its error, “You’re right! Thanks for pointing out my error.“ It makes it seem like there’s work without sweat.

To be clear, I really would like AI to solve more problems for me and the people around me. I think it can. I used it to criticize the draft of my notes for this talk, and it did its job of pushing me to focus. And yet I have to bring all the care.
“There’s something special about every word written by a human because they chose to do this thing instead of anything else. Something moved them, irked them, inspired them, possessed them, and then electricity shot everywhere in their brain and then—crucially—they laid fingers on keys and put that electricity inside the computer. Writing is a costly signal of caring about something. Good writing, in fact, might be a sign of pathological caring.” (Mastroianni)
It is as good for your mind to untangle your confusion as it is for body to run a mile. And reading (and writing) fiction repays this caring struggle far more than getting great at chatting with a robot.
Never a Better Time to Care
Of course, you might ask why not emphasize reading historical and certainly biographical narratives? Those are also good. But biography reconstructs inner life from external evidence; letters, testimony, to make inferences from the outside. The novelist reveals the actual flow of consciousness, the gap between thought and action, the self-deception driving human behavior. Fiction gives us the inside look at the struggle. And AI is just making things up altogether.
I am still optimistic that there are ways in which technology will help us learn and build in our unfavorable conditions. In some ways, there’s never been a better time to learn to think and solve problems. But we need better imagination just to better use AI.
If you want to make the best use of your time in unfavorable conditions, you’ll need the best human imagination that fiction can build. Don’t default to a steady diet of popcorn because it’s just there, learn to grill some meat. One reason for a festival like this is to taste something better.
It seems inappropriate to kick off this 10th RFF without any reference to my number one fiction book ever: That Hideous Strength. I’ve quoted this line from Ransom in previous years and it fits this talk better than any other:
“We have drugs that could cheat the pain as well as your earth magic or better, if it were not my business to bear it to the end.”
Ransom chose the struggle. He did not just take the easy way, the anesthetic, the shortcut, the generated answer. He knew his calling required more. “Favourable conditions never come,” but it is our calling to care right through them.

