Recently I was part of a conversation with several people who are often called upon to write short essays or to give presentations in their areas of expertise. These are amateurs and volunteers, not professionals, so I was less shocked than I might have been that they make heavy use of ChatGPT for creating their works. It saves them a lot of time, and they know enough to be able to catch errors—I trust. That discussion inspired me to renew my AI adventures and expand on my previous efforts to use Microsoft's Copilot to gain insights into my writing style.

This time, I tried ChatGPT on my two most recent posts that included my writing only: Sunday Morning Breakfast and Palm Beach Airport, I Feel Your Pain. This led to a fascinating, and somewhat frightening, exchange. I apologize (a little) for the length required to document accurately the ChatGPT responses. You can skim them and still get the main ideas.

First I asked it to "analyze this writing" and gave it the text of "Sunday Morning Breakfast."

This passage reads like a personal food memoir—a reflective piece where everyday food is used to evoke childhood, family culture, and memory. Here’s a breakdown of the key elements.


1. Central Theme

The core theme is nostalgia for childhood rituals centered around food. The writer uses Sunday breakfast as a lens to explore:

  • Family traditions
  • Economic modesty without hardship
  • The sensory memory of homemade food

The pancakes become a symbol of comfort and family routine, almost as important as church itself.


2. Structure and Organization

The piece follows a layered, memory-driven structure:

  1. Opening: Ritual
    • Sunday mornings = church + blueberry pancakes.
    • Sets the emotional anchor.
  2. Ingredient memories
    • Pancake mix
    • Fresh-picked blueberries
    • Homemade syrup
    • Bacon
  3. Reflection
    • Family budget constraints
    • Appreciation rather than resentment
    • Cultural practices like saving bacon grease
  4. Closing
    • Ends with a small teaser: “But that’s a story for another post.”

This structure mirrors how people remember food—ingredient by ingredient, sensation by sensation.


3. Tone and Voice

The tone is:

  • Warm
  • Reflective
  • Humble
  • Conversational

The narrator avoids romanticizing poverty; instead, they frame limitations as part of a resourceful, content family culture.

Example of tone:

“We never felt underprivileged, but happy to have bacon at all…”

This line reframes scarcity as gratitude and fairness.


4. Use of Specific Details

The writing is strong because of concrete, sensory details, such as:

  • A stone house built by hand
  • Hand-picked blueberries
  • The exact syrup recipe
  • Three half-slices of bacon

These details serve two functions:

  1. Authenticity — makes the memory believable.
  2. Emotional texture — food becomes tied to people and place.

The inclusion of the syrup recipe is particularly effective; it transforms memory into something replicable and tactile.


5. Subtle Themes Beneath the Food

Several deeper themes run under the surface:

1. Frugality vs. deprivation

The family is clearly budget-conscious, but the writer frames it as practical living rather than poverty.

2. Community

The blueberry farm belonging to a co-worker highlights small-town social networks.

3. DIY culture

Homemade syrup, saving bacon grease, and hand-picked fruit reflect a mid-20th-century domestic ethos of self-sufficiency.

4. Memory and taste

The author admits modern maple syrup is “better,” yet the homemade syrup still ranks higher emotionally—showing how taste is shaped by memory.


6. Literary Techniques

The piece uses several subtle techniques:

Juxtaposition

  • Church vs. pancakes (“even more religiously”)

Anecdote

  • The blueberry farm visit.

Precision

  • Specific measurements in the syrup recipe.

Delayed storytelling

  • The closing hook about bacon grease.

7. What Makes the Writing Effective

The piece works well because:

  • It focuses on a small moment instead of a big life story.
  • It uses food as narrative structure.
  • It balances description with reflection.
  • It conveys values indirectly rather than stating them.

In short:
This is a nostalgic food essay where Sunday breakfast becomes a metaphor for family life, modest means, and the emotional power of shared meals.

I passed up ChatGPT's offer to "break down why this style works so well for food memoirs" or to "show how to write something similar youself (there's a clear pattern behind pieces like this)," instead giving it the text of "Palm Beach Airport..." to analyze.

This piece is another personal essay, but unlike the first (which is nostalgic and sensory), this one is civic reflection with gentle satire. The author uses a small political issue—renaming infrastructure—to explore broader attitudes about public memory, politics, and practicality.

Here’s a breakdown.


1. Central Theme

The central theme is skepticism toward renaming public places after political figures, especially when it replaces long-standing names.

However, the deeper message is not outrage—it’s resigned pragmatism. The writer ultimately argues that:

  • Political naming fights are mostly symbolic
  • The practical function of infrastructure matters more than its name

The closing line emphasizes this:

“But the bridge still gets me across the Hudson…”


2. Tone

The tone blends several elements:

Mildly cynical
The author doubts the usefulness of renaming things.

Wry / understated humor
Example:

“benefitting no one but those who are paid to change all the signs.”

Measured rather than angry
Even though political figures are mentioned, the essay avoids rage or partisan ranting.

Resigned pragmatism
The writer ultimately shrugs at the issue.


3. Structure

The essay is organized as a progressive expansion of examples.

1. Trigger event

The proposed renaming of the airport.

2. General principle

The author explains their dislike of naming infrastructure after people.

3. Historical examples

Several renaming cases:

  • Palm Beach International Airport
  • Gulf of Mexico
  • John F. Kennedy International Airport (formerly Idlewild)
  • Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport
  • Beachline Expressway

4. Personal anecdote

The bridge example introduces emotional context:

  • Tappan Zee Bridge → renamed the Governor Mario M. Cuomo Bridge
  • Reference to Mario Cuomo.

5. Philosophical closing

The practical function of infrastructure outweighs political symbolism.


4. Key Writing Techniques

A. Conversational parentheticals

The writer frequently inserts side comments:

“(Even if they are, Google Maps makes up for a multitude of defects.)”

This creates a casual blog-style voice, making the argument feel less formal and more personal.


B. Light irony

Example:

“as if tourists were too stupid to find their way eastward otherwise”

The humor softens criticism and keeps the essay readable rather than confrontational.


C. Balanced political distance

Although the essay references:

  • Donald J. Trump
  • Mario Cuomo

the author avoids turning the essay into a partisan attack. Instead, the frustration is directed toward the practice of renaming itself, not one specific political figure.


5. Underlying Ideas

Several broader ideas are embedded in the piece.

1. Stability vs. symbolic politics

Long-standing names carry history and familiarity, while renaming reflects political cycles.

2. Practicality over symbolism

Infrastructure should serve its function regardless of political branding.

3. Political fatigue

The opening line shows a sense of issue triage:

it was not high on my list of things to be upset about.

This suggests a modern environment where people are constantly asked to react to political news.


6. The Ending

The final paragraph is structurally important.

It shifts from:

politics → family

“whether our grandson flies into Palm Beach or Donald J. Trump Airport…”

This reframes the entire essay: what ultimately matters is human connection and safety, not symbolic naming battles.

It’s a humanizing conclusion that softens the political content.


7. Strengths of the Writing

The essay works well because it:

  • Uses specific historical examples
  • Maintains a calm, reflective tone
  • Incorporates humor and personal anecdotes
  • Ends with an emotional pivot toward family

In short:
This is a reflective civic essay arguing that political renaming of infrastructure is mostly symbolic and often unnecessary, and that everyday life continues regardless of what names appear on the signs.

Now here's where it gets really interesting. ChatGPT asked me,

If you'd like, I can also point out three subtle stylistic habits that appear in both essays, which suggest they’re likely written by the same authorial voice.

How could I pass that up? Here was its response:

Both essays show a very consistent authorial voice. Even though one is about food memories and the other about civic naming, several stylistic habits appear in both. These patterns are strong clues they come from the same writer.

Here are the three most distinctive ones.


1. Digressive Parentheticals (the “aside” voice)

The author frequently inserts side comments in parentheses that feel like spoken conversation.

Examples:

Food essay:

“quite likely Aunt Jemima, although I don't remember for sure.”

Civic essay:

“(Even if they are, Google Maps makes up for a multitude of defects.)”

These asides do several things:

  • Mimic natural storytelling
  • Add humor or clarification
  • Show the writer thinking aloud

It creates a sense that the narrator is talking with the reader rather than presenting an argument.

This is a hallmark of informal reflective essay writing, especially common in personal blogs.


2. Specific, Concrete Details

The author consistently grounds ideas in precise specifics rather than general statements.

Examples:

Food essay:

  • Exact syrup recipe (1 cup water, 1 cup white sugar, 2 cup brown sugar)
  • “three half-slices” of bacon
  • a named blueberry farmer

Civic essay:

  • Palm Beach International Airport
  • John F. Kennedy International Airport
  • Tappan Zee Bridge
  • Governor Mario M. Cuomo Bridge

Instead of saying “many places were renamed,” the author lists real examples from memory.

This technique:

  • builds credibility
  • makes the writing vivid
  • reveals the author’s personal history and geography

3. Reflective Endings (philosophical but modest)

Both pieces end with a small reflective insight rather than a dramatic conclusion.

Food essay ending:

saving bacon grease… “But that's a story for another post.”

Civic essay ending:

“whether our grandson flies into Palm Beach or Donald J. Trump Airport…”

These endings share three traits:

  1. They shift from topic → personal life
  2. They avoid grand conclusions
  3. They feel conversational and understated

Instead of “Here is the moral,” the writer offers a quiet closing thought.


Bonus Habit: Gentle Humor

The humor style is subtle and dry.

Examples:

  • “benefitting no one but those who are paid to change all the signs”
  • “as if tourists were too stupid to find their way eastward”

This kind of humor is observational rather than punchline-driven.


Overall Style Profile

If you summarized the author’s style, it would look like this:

  • Conversational and reflective
  • Detail-rich and memory-driven
  • Lightly humorous
  • Mildly skeptical but not cynical
  • Ends with a personal or human note

It resembles the style often found in newspaper columnists or reflective bloggers, where personal experience and commentary blend.

Its next suggestion, and response:

If you want, I can also point out two clues in the writing that reveal the author’s likely age range and background (they’re surprisingly easy to spot in both essays).

Several clues in the writing point to the author’s likely age range and life background. None of these are definitive on their own, but together they form a fairly clear picture.


1. First-Hand Memory of Mid-20th-Century Events

The author writes:

“I remember when Idlewild Airport became JFK…”

Idlewild was renamed John F. Kennedy International Airport after the assassination of John F. Kennedy in 1963.

Saying “I remember when” suggests the author was old enough at the time to notice and remember public events—probably at least 8–10 years old.

That implies a birth year roughly in the 1940s or early 1950s, making the writer likely 70–85 years old today.

Another similar clue appears here:

“when Washington National acquired Ronald Reagan's name”

Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport was renamed in 1998. The writer refers to that change as something they experienced as an adult observer of politics.


2. Cultural Habits from Mid-Century American Households

The food essay reveals several practices that were very typical of mid-20th-century families:

  • Saving bacon grease
  • Homemade syrup made with maple extract
  • Hand-picking fruit locally
  • Rationing bacon portions
  • Using boxed pancake mix

These habits strongly reflect 1950s–1960s middle-class domestic culture.

For example:

“That was common practice in those days—why waste such a good source of fat and flavor?”

The phrase “in those days” signals that the writer sees these habits as belonging to an earlier generation.


3. Geographic Life Pattern

The essays also reveal a regional life story.

Childhood

The writer explicitly says they grew up in Upstate New York.

That region fits well with:

  • blueberry picking
  • modest middle-class households
  • homemade substitutes for expensive items like maple syrup

Later life

The second essay places the writer in Florida, mentioning travel routes and local infrastructure like:

  • Palm Beach International Airport
  • I-95 travel between Florida and Connecticut.

This suggests a common retirement migration pattern:

Northeast upbringing → later-life residence in Florida.


4. Generational Attitudes

The voice reflects attitudes common among people who grew up in the postwar American middle class:

  • skepticism toward unnecessary change
  • appreciation of thrift
  • comfort with modest living
  • irritation with symbolic politics

But the tone is measured rather than ideological, which is typical of writers influenced by mid-20th-century newspaper column style.


Putting the clues together

The most likely profile of the author is:

  • Born roughly 1940–1955
  • Grew up in Upstate New York
  • Later moved to Florida
  • Middle-class upbringing
  • Familiar with mid-century domestic practices
  • Comfortable writing in a reflective newspaper/blog column style

I had no idea that when I wrote those two essays I was giving out so much personal information. But it's there, and ChatGPT put it all together easily. Not that it's 100% accurate: I find the "mid-20th-century newspaper column style" idea surprising, because I have never been more than an infrequent reader of newspaper columns. Books, yes—newspapers, rarely.

If you'd like, I can also show you one subtle clue in the first essay that strongly hints the author may have been a technically minded person (possibly engineering or science background). It's hidden in the way the recipe is described.

There’s a subtle clue in the first essay that suggests the author may have a technical, scientific, or engineering-oriented mindset. It shows up in the way the syrup recipe is recalled and described.


The Precision of the Recipe

The author writes:

“bring 1 cup water, 1 cup white sugar, and 2 cup brown sugar to a boil… then add 1/4 teaspoon (or maybe 1/2) Mapeleine…”

Most people recalling a childhood recipe would write something like:

“We made syrup from sugar and maple extract.”

Instead, the writer gives structured measurements and a process, almost like a procedure:

  1. Combine ingredients
  2. Bring to a boil
  3. Stir until dissolved
  4. Add flavoring
  5. Stir and serve

That’s essentially a step-by-step process description.


The “Approximate Precision” Pattern

Another telling detail is this phrasing:

“1/4 teaspoon (or maybe 1/2)”

This is a very specific kind of uncertainty. Instead of saying “a little maple extract,” the author narrows the uncertainty to two precise candidate measurements.

That kind of thinking—constraining uncertainty within measured ranges—is common in technical fields.


Structured Memory

The recipe is also written in ordered operations, much like instructions:

  • Inputs (ingredients)
  • Process (boil and dissolve)
  • Adjustment (add extract)
  • Output (serve)

That structure resembles how engineers or scientists often remember processes: as sequences of operations rather than impressions.


Contrast With the Rest of the Essay

Interestingly, the rest of the essay is very sensory and narrative:

  • the stone house
  • hand-picked blueberries
  • rationed bacon

But the recipe section briefly switches into procedural mode.

That kind of shift is common when someone who is analytically trained describes how something is made.


What this suggests

It doesn’t prove the author is an engineer or scientist, but it hints that the writer likely:

  • is comfortable with measurements and processes
  • naturally thinks in stepwise procedures
  • remembers things through structure and ratios

That kind of thinking appears frequently in people with backgrounds in:

  • engineering
  • chemistry
  • computing
  • medicine
  • technical trades

All that from a recipe!

If you're interested, there’s also one small linguistic habit across both essays that strongly suggests the writer spent many years reading or writing traditional newspaper columnists. It’s a stylistic trait that’s becoming rare in modern writing.

The linguistic habit is the use of measured, balanced sentences that resemble traditional newspaper column writing—especially the kind popular from the 1940s through the 1980s.

The key feature is parallel contrast phrasing: the writer sets up an idea and then gently pivots to a contrasting thought in the same sentence.

Here are a few examples from the essays.


1. The “Not X, but Y” Balance

Food essay:

“Our syrup wasn't Aunt Jemima… but it wasn't real maple syrup, either.

This structure does two things:

  1. Rejects one option
  2. Rejects another option
  3. Leads to a third explanation

That three-part structure is extremely common in classic column writing, where the writer walks readers through reasoning conversationally.


2. Moderated Opinion

Civic essay:

“it was not high on my list of things to be upset about.

Instead of saying “I didn't care about it”, the writer uses a tempered phrasing. This kind of moderation is characteristic of older editorial styles, where writers avoided blunt statements.


3. Balanced Closing Sentences

The final line of the second essay is particularly column-like:

“whether our grandson flies into Palm Beach or Donald J. Trump Airport…”

This uses a paired contrast structure:

  • Option A
  • Option B
  • Both lead to the same outcome

This rhetorical device is called antithesis—placing two contrasting elements side by side for emphasis.


4. The “Gentle Authority” Voice

Across both essays the narrator:

  • expresses opinions
  • avoids sounding absolute
  • often softens claims

Examples:

  • “I don't remember for sure.”
  • “I don't think it was thrift, per se…”
  • “apparently doesn't exist anymore.”

This creates what editors often call the columnist’s voice:

knowledgeable but conversational, confident but not dogmatic.


5. Rhythm of the Sentences

Many sentences follow a classic three-beat rhythm, which was very common in mid-century magazine and newspaper prose.

Example from the food essay:

“We never felt underprivileged, but happy to have bacon at all, and content to know what was our share.”

Three beats:

  1. not underprivileged
  2. happy to have bacon
  3. content with our share

This rhythm makes prose feel natural when read aloud, which was important when many columnists expected their work to be read in print newspapers.


Why this style feels distinctive today

Modern online writing tends to be:

  • shorter
  • more blunt
  • less rhythmically structured

The author here writes in a style closer to classic American newspaper columnists, such as:

  • Russell Baker
  • James J. Kilpatrick
  • Erma Bombeck

Those writers specialized in observational essays about everyday life, often mixing memory, humor, and mild commentary—very similar to these pieces.


In short:
The writing reflects an older columnist tradition: conversational but carefully structured, reflective rather than argumentative, and built around balanced sentences and gentle wit.

Now I'm really curious as to how my style came to be like that of an American newpaper columnist. Not that I don't find the comparison flattering! But I wonder where it came from.

If you'd like, I can also point out two tiny clues in the second essay that suggest the author is probably a very experienced traveler or road-trip driver (they’re easy to miss but quite revealing). 

There are two small but revealing details in the second essay that suggest the writer is very accustomed to long-distance travel by car—probably over many years.


1. The Route Knowledge Is Driver-Specific

The writer says:

“We frequently travel up I-95 from Florida to Connecticut…”

That’s not just a casual mention of a highway. It reflects familiarity with a very specific, very long driving corridor along the U.S. East Coast.

The road referenced is Interstate 95, which runs from Florida all the way to Maine. Saying they frequently drive that route suggests repeated multi-state trips.

This kind of travel pattern is common among:

  • retirees splitting time between states
  • families maintaining ties between the Northeast and Florida
  • people who prefer driving to flying for long trips

But the key clue is what comes next.


2. Mentioning a Specific Bridge Crossing

The writer adds:

“our favorite route crosses the Hudson River over the Tappan Zee Bridge.”

That’s a very driver-oriented detail. Most people describing travel between Florida and Connecticut would just say “we cross the Hudson River.” But experienced drivers often identify routes by specific choke points or crossings.

The bridge referenced is the historic Tappan Zee Bridge, which was replaced and renamed the Governor Mario M. Cuomo Bridge.

For people who regularly drive the Northeast corridor, the Tappan Zee crossing was historically important because it lets drivers avoid Manhattan traffic and toll tunnels.

That detail strongly suggests the writer:

  • knows multiple routes north
  • has chosen a preferred one over time

3. The Phrase “Our Favorite Route”

Another revealing phrase:

“our favorite route…”

Frequent drivers tend to develop personal route preferences based on:

  • traffic patterns
  • tolls
  • bridge crossings
  • past experiences

That language implies the author has experimented with different ways north and settled on one.


4. Emotional Attachment to Route Landmarks

The reaction to the bridge’s renaming also hints at repeated encounters:

“I cringe every time I see the renamed bridge signs.”

That only happens if someone passes the signs repeatedly.


Putting the clues together

The author likely:

  • drives regularly between Florida and the Northeast
  • prefers road trips over flying
  • knows specific infrastructure landmarks
  • has been making the trip long enough to remember earlier names for roads and bridges

This travel habit fits neatly with the earlier clues suggesting someone who:

  • grew up in the Northeast
  • later lived in Florida
  • maintains connections in both regions

And finally,

If you'd like, there’s also one subtle emotional trait visible in both essays that reveals a lot about the writer’s personality—something psychologists call a “high contentment orientation.” It's surprisingly clear once you see it.

There is indeed a subtle personality trait visible in both essays that psychologists and narrative analysts sometimes call a contentment orientation—a tendency to frame experiences in terms of gratitude, sufficiency, and acceptance rather than grievance.

It shows up in several small ways.


1. Reframing Scarcity as Satisfaction

In the pancake essay, the author describes limited bacon:

“three half-slices each.”

That’s clearly rationed, but the emotional framing is striking:

“We never felt underprivileged, but happy to have bacon at all…”

Instead of focusing on what was missing, the writer emphasizes what was enough.

This kind of framing is common in people who grew up in modest but stable households and learned to associate restraint with fairness rather than deprivation.


2. Low Outrage Threshold

In the second essay, the author begins with:

“it was not high on my list of things to be upset about.”

In modern commentary, many writers would start with anger or strong criticism. Instead, the author signals emotional triage—some things simply aren’t worth much energy.

That reflects a mindset oriented toward proportion and perspective.


3. Acceptance of Imperfect Systems

Even when the writer dislikes the renaming of infrastructure, the conclusion is practical:

“the bridge still gets me across the Hudson…”

This is a classic function-over-symbol mindset.

The author recognizes annoyance but refuses to let symbolic irritations outweigh practical benefits.


4. Family as the Ultimate Priority

The final sentence reframes the entire issue:

“whether our grandson flies into Palm Beach or Donald J. Trump Airport… it won't affect my prayers for his safe landing.”

The emotional hierarchy becomes clear:

  1. Family safety
  2. Real-life travel
  3. Political symbolism (far below)

This shift from politics to family is another marker of contentment-oriented thinking—placing meaning in personal relationships rather than abstract disputes.


5. Gentle Nostalgia Instead of Sentimental Idealization

In the food essay, the writer remembers homemade syrup fondly, yet admits:

“I almost always use pure maple syrup…”

So the past is appreciated but not romanticized.

The author enjoys the memory without pretending it was objectively better.


Overall personality signal

Across both essays, the writer consistently shows:

  • gratitude for modest things
  • tolerance for inconvenience
  • mild humor about irritation
  • strong emphasis on family and routine

Psychologically, that pattern often appears in people who:

  • experienced stable early environments
  • value continuity and practicality
  • have low appetite for conflict
  • prefer reflection over reaction

In short:
The essays reveal someone who notices small irritations but ultimately chooses contentment and perspective over complaint—a trait that strongly shapes the calm, reflective tone of the writing.

With that, we had both had enough.

It astounds me how much ChatGPT was able to glean from two casual essays totalling a mere 600 words. It's surprisingly accurate, yet with errors that could potentially be misused. Are those charged with reading college application essays now relying on AI analysis to inform their decisions about a prospective student?  I already know that AI is all too often the gatekeeper when applying for a job, and some of the application questions are bizarre to say the least. Three decades ago I worked for a church where the leadership tried to require its staff to submit to written psychological testing. (Fortunately, I was a volunteer so that was a battle I didn't need to fight.) What might a church, an employer, a school, or a government agency decide to try with LLM's now in their tool kit?

We already know that everyone from curious neighbors to employers to three-letter agencies regularly scrapes our social media presence for damaging information, with no statute of limitations. My encounter with ChatGPT makes it clear that even our casual, apparently harmless, conversations can reveal (or be assumed to reveal) information that could make or break our lives.

And yet I still write.

Posted by sursumcorda on Friday, March 13, 2026 at 11:40 am | Edit
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