Since the debut of ChatGPT in November 2022, it has captivated millions, assisting with everything from wedding toasts to bad poetry. Yet, Oscar-nominated screenwriter Billy Ray—known for iconic films like Shattered Glass and The Hunger Games—has steered clear of AI entirely.

For Ray, AI isn’t a creative tool but rather an existential threat to storytelling itself, describing it as a cancer masquerading as a profit center. He feels using AI to write would intensify his impostor syndrome, saying: There's no way I'd make myself feel worse by letting a machine do my writing for me.

As the fear of AI grew in Hollywood, screenwriters found themselves in the crosshairs. During the impactful 2023 Writers Guild strike, contracts were established to prevent studios from requiring AI use, marking a significant victory. But Ray insists these protections are inadequate, warning that studios are covertly adopting the technology.

His alarm stems from witnessing an ongoing trend where studios explore AI's potential in quiet, behind-the-scenes ways. The result will inevitably be chaos, bad movies, and a lot of people out of work, he cautions.

Ray, a veteran member of the Writers Guild, expresses greater urgency now than during the strikes, especially as many writers are already struggling financially. A staggering drop in reported earnings underscores the fear of job losses due to AI’s encroachment.

As generative AI rapidly evolves, Ray urges for safeguards to protect writers and their craft: We need to put firewalls in place before the next round of negotiations, he states, emphasizing that audiences deserve to know when they’re consuming human-written content.

With AI now embedded in numerous production phases, from previsualization to editing, screenwriting is particularly vulnerable. Unlike human writers, AI lacks the true understanding of plot and motivation—elements that lend depth to storytelling.

Yet, some see potential in AI as a collaborative assistant rather than a replacement. Startups are developing tools designed to streamline writing processes, relieving writers of less creative tasks like drafting loglines or treatments.

However, many creatives remain wary. Writer-director Todd Haynes emphasizes that mistakes and emotions are what fuel true creativity—elements that AI cannot replicate. Ray shares this sentiment, arguing that if Hollywood continues to rely on AI-generated scripts, storytelling will lose its human touch, inviting audiences to seek richer experiences elsewhere.

At industry conferences, AI discussions show a growing divide: tech enthusiasts tout its potential to revolutionize Hollywood, while writers express their fears of becoming obsolete. Many worry that, as AI takes root, the authenticity and emotional resonance crucial to great storytelling will be lost.

Debates around AI extend into film education. Institutions like USC's School of Cinematic Arts are now integrating AI into curriculums, but the screenwriting realm remains protected to foster the emergence of authentic voices among aspiring writers.

The fear of declining quality due to AI is echoed by industry veterans. From filmmaker Oscar Sharp, who sought to reverse engineer a screenplay with AI, to emerging voices like Roma Murphy, the consensus is clear: writers are cautious yet curious as they navigate this evolving landscape.

As Hollywood wrestles with the implications of generative AI, one question looms large: What happens to the art of storytelling when it’s shaped by algorithms rather than human experiences? In a domain where emotional depth reigns supreme, only time will reveal whether AI is a friend or foe.