Abraham Lincoln was a busy person who needed ways to conserve his energies. When it came to drafting the Gettysburg Address, he was very lucky not to have had artificial intelligence taking over the task.
I asked a popular AI tool, Chatgp, to draft a 272 word dedication for a cemetery on a battlefield in Pennsylvania in 1863. They returned 242 sorely disappointing words.
Maybe my request was too vague. I refined it. Draft a 272 word speech for the president to dedicate a cemetery on a battlefield in Pennsylvania in 1863.. This time I got back 240 slightly less disappointing words.
Maybe I just don’t know how to use Chatgp. So I tried Google’s Gemini, and they delivered exactly 272 words. But it was hardly stuff that would inspire a nation.
For example, take Lincoln’s opening sentence with its biblical language and its allusion to human conception and liberty. “Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
Gemini opened its speech this way. “Standing here today, we are surrounded by the quiet testimony of those who fell upon these Pennsylvania fields.”
Or consider Lincoln’s unforgettable closing words: “that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
Gemini concluded with “For a nation of the people must endure, forever whole, forever free, and forever undivided.”
Gemini also referred to the speech being given under a gray sky, but observers of the time reported sunny skies with nice weather.
Or maybe I malign AI unfairly. Judge for yourself. Here is Lincoln’s original text followed by Gemini’s text.
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate—we can not consecrate—we can not hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Here’s Gemini:
Standing here today, we are surrounded by the quiet testimony of those who fell upon these Pennsylvania fields. The ground is cold, but the memory of the heat of battle remains etched into every stone and blade of grass. We have gathered to consecrate a final home for the brave souls who stood firm when the very foundation of our republic trembled. Their courage was not for glory, but for the simple, profound hope that a nation born in the cradle of liberty might survive its darkest trial.
Many who sleep beneath this soil left behind homes that will never again know their laughter, and families whose grief is the silent price of our continued existence. We cannot pay that debt with mere words. Instead, we must offer the devotion of our lives to the cause they so nobly defended. The struggle is not yet finished. The path toward a perfect union is steep and littered with the sorrows of war.
Yet, looking upon these rows of the fallen, we find a renewed strength. We resolve, with God as our witness, that these lives were not surrendered in vain. Out of this valley of shadow, we shall bring forth a new light, a light of justice that reaches every corner of our land. Let us walk away from this hallowed place not with heavy hearts, but with hands ready for the work of healing. The world may forget the speeches made under this gray sky, but it must always remember the duty we owe to the future. For a nation of the people must endure, forever whole, forever free, and forever undivided.
