
Workplace Insights by Adrie van der Luijt
Last Tuesday, a potential client asked me a question that left me momentarily speechless. “Why should I pay you £500 for content when I can get ChatGPT to write it for £20?”
It was a fair question. And one that content professionals everywhere are grappling with as AI tools transform our industry at breakneck speed.
The truth is, we’re experiencing an AI content paradox: clients simultaneously expect miracles from AI whilst dismissing AI-assisted work as requiring minimal skill. Neither assumption reflects reality, but both reshape how we work, charge and ultimately, how we value ourselves as professionals.
When I started in content design, presenting wireframes and prototypes to clients taught me a valuable lesson about managing expectations. Show a polished-looking mockup using the GDS prototype toolkit too early, and clients panic, thinking you’ve built an entire service when you’ve barely started discovery.
With AI content, we face the opposite problem. Clients assume what took hours of skilled crafting was produced with a single prompt and minimal expertise. This creates a dangerous gap between perceived and actual value widening daily.
One government client recently asked why their internal team couldn’t simply “ChatGPT the entire content strategy.” When I explained that prompt engineering is a developing skill requiring a deep understanding of content principles, user needs and business objectives, they seemed genuinely surprised.
The reality is that working with AI tools often requires more expertise, not less. Consider what actually happens when creating quality content with AI assistance:
Yet this labour remains largely invisible to clients who’ve dabbled with generative AI tools enough to think they understand them, but haven’t experienced the frustration of trying to extract consistently professional outputs.
There’s a concerning mental health dimension to this transition that few are discussing openly. As pricing pressures increase, many freelancers and agencies accept significantly more work to maintain their income level.
A content designer I’ve worked with for years recently confided that she’s now managing triple the project load she handled last year. “The work is still complex, but clients expect it faster and cheaper. I’m working nights now to keep my head above water.”
This isn’t sustainable. When we compress creative work into ever-tighter timeframes, quality inevitably suffers, regardless of what technological tools we employ. And so does our wellbeing.
As the industry adjusts to this new reality, I’ve been experimenting with different approaches to managing client expectations:
The uncomfortable reality is that some clients will try to devalue our work regardless of technological shifts. They always have. But the good ones understand they’re paying for strategic thinking, experience and judgement, not just the ability to generate words quickly.
Perhaps the most important lesson is about boundaries. Defining what quality means in this new landscape and being willing to walk away from work that doesn’t allow for maintaining standards isn’t just about professional integrity. It’s about mental health and sustainability.
As one seasoned copywriter recently told me, “AI hasn’t changed the fundamental truth of our profession. Good content takes time, thought and care. The tools change, but the craft remains.”