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Large Language ModelsAI Coding AssistantsInterconnects (Nathan Lambert)Published: Aug 13, 2026, 01:00 JST8 min read

AI still can't write textbooks better than humans, author finds

AI still can't write textbooks better than humans, author finds

Key takeaway

  • An author who just published a textbook on machine learning post-training methods found that current AI models like GPT 5.5 Pro and Claude, despite breakthroughs in coding and math, remain poor at long-form technical writing — they struggle with organization, make compounding errors across chapters, and cannot replace the human insight needed to structure and present complex knowledge clearly.

  • While AI proved useful for mechanical tasks like equation formatting and syncing multiple document versions, the author used AI-generated text for less than 1% of the final manuscript, suggesting that AI writing assistance will likely remain a narrow productivity tool rather than a replacement for expert authorship.

3 Key Points

  1. What happened

    The author of a newly published post-training textbook on Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback used AI models (GPT 5.5 Pro, Claude Code) to assist with copyediting, LaTeX formatting, and syncing between Markdown and LaTeX versions during the writing process, but found that current models struggle significantly with long-form technical writing and organization.

  2. Why it matters

    Despite rapid advances in coding and math, AI writing ability has stagnated — the most famous models for writing (OpenAI's GPT 4.5 and Moonshot's Kimi K2) are old, and models still make compounding errors when stringing together longer passages. This gap is concerning for scientists who rely on AI to solve open-ended research problems, since organizing and clearly presenting established knowledge appears to be a prerequisite skill AI has not yet mastered.

  3. What to watch

    The author used AI to save time on repetitive tasks (she estimates syncing two document formats would have taken five times longer without AI agents, consuming tens of hours already), but used less than 1% AI-generated content in the final text. The constraint she imposes on her own writing — never using AI in final blog posts — reflects a broader tension: AI can handle 10–20% of writing effort today, but the author sees that ceiling remaining in the near future.

In Depth

Read the full story

The author recently completed a textbook titled Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback (published by Manning), and in reflecting on the writing process, she describes a tension between AI's genuine utility on mechanical tasks and its persistent weakness in the creative and organizational work that defines expert authorship. Throughout the project, she deployed AI models in several ways: she used them to handle LaTeX equation formatting, to perform deep copyediting passes (GPT 5.5 Pro was exceptionally effective at finding subtle typos buried in a 200–300 page manuscript; Claude offered more sophisticated editorial judgment and suggestions for overcoming writer's block), and crucially, to automate the synchronization of two parallel versions of the manuscript — a Markdown web version and a LaTeX version for her Manning editorial team. The author estimates that syncing these two formats alone consumed tens of hours and would have taken five times longer without AI agents.

Despite these concrete wins, the author found that current models — including prominent writing-focused models like OpenAI's GPT 4.5 and Moonshot's Kimi K2 — struggle fundamentally with long-form technical writing. When asked to draft an entire chapter, models produce text that is "a mix sprinkled with confusing wording, muddled in its organization, and generally a bit off." They attempt elaboration where simplicity would serve better and in doing so introduce random conceptual errors. The author's diagnosis is that models can handle isolated, well-defined tasks — checking every sentence for grammar, fixing a single equation, rewriting a section the writer has flagged — but fail when asked to revisit and synthesize multiple components as they layer new material on top of previous work. She describes this as "irreducible compounding errors," akin to problems the field once faced in math and code, yet those domains have benefited from techniques like reinforcement learning from human feedback in ways writing has not.

Regarding her own use of AI-generated content in the final text: the author explicitly included less than 1% AI output, accepting only a few technical explanation sentences that she, as a genuine expert in the field, felt perfectly captured what the reader needed. She was willing to include these precisely because she had deep domain knowledge and maintained a close editorial eye during the review phase. She describes one concrete workflow: her editor embedded questions and revision requests directly in the LaTeX file using a custom delimiter (\editor{}). She asked Claude Code to navigate to each comment, print surrounding context, and flag whether it was a simple typo fix or something more nuanced. She would then either provide her own revision or solicit Claude's suggestion before making the final call. In this workflow, the AI became a focusing tool that accelerated the logistics of responding to feedback without displacing her expertise.

The author is candid about the emotional and pragmatic pressures that justified this compromise. At the point she incorporated AI suggestions, she had completed a full manuscript review and the project felt intellectually finished, yet more formal work remained. She was watching the field advance rapidly and feared the textbook might become dated before publication, a worry that proved unfounded — she notes with irony that "models have so failed to live up to the hype in non-fiction writing" that her concerns were misplaced and the book's staying power is now stronger than anticipated. Still, she acknowledges a "slippery slope": accepting some AI help made it tempting to accept more. In response, she has adopted a strict rule for her own blog on Interconnects: no AI outputs in the final content, valuing the process of writing her own voice and perspective. She argues that writing a reference textbook is "not really an activity known for being fun," which perhaps explains why she was willing to trade some effort for AI assistance, whereas her high-voice opinion writing on Interconnects is driven by intrinsic motivation to think and express.

The author's broader argument is that AI models will remain narrow labor-savers, not replacements for expert work. They can automate 10–20% of writing effort today — primarily mechanical and repetitive tasks — and she does not expect that percentage to grow substantially. The crux of her concern is philosophical: she argues that the early, generative phase of structuring a textbook (deciding how to organize knowledge, choosing which concepts to present and in what order, crafting the spine of the narrative) is where real insight happens and where LLMs are "far behind." She would welcome more experts using AI to save time on filler and background material if it meant more high-quality educational content reaching the world, but she believes such use must be limited and carefully gated by expert judgment. Without pre-existing domain mastery, she warns, contributors cannot catch AI errors; and if AI writing assistance replaces the need to struggle with ideas, it robs experts of the opportunity to deepen their own understanding. In her view, the future value lies not in AI replacing human authors, but in AI liberating experts to focus on the irreplaceable work of creating new knowledge and finding the right way to express it.

Context & Analysis

The author's experience reflects a broader stagnation in AI writing capability that contrasts sharply with breakthroughs in adjacent domains. While models like GPT 5.5 Pro and Claude have become indispensable for mechanical editing tasks — catching typos, refactoring code, and automating document synchronization — their core weakness in long-form composition has not meaningfully improved. The author notes that the most celebrated writing-focused models (OpenAI's GPT 4.5 and Moonshot's Kimi K2) are themselves old, even as models have leapt from "incapable to decent" at search and research tasks and from "okay to superhuman" at coding and mathematics. This divergence suggests that writing excellence is not simply a function of raw model scale or general intelligence, but depends on specific training signals and interventions the field has not yet cracked.

The author's observation about "compounding errors" is particularly telling. Modern models excel at point tasks — finding a single typo, fixing a local bug, generating a code snippet — but when forced to maintain coherence across a chapter or across multiple revisions, they degrade. This is not merely a symptom of insufficient intelligence; the author implies it reflects a fundamental architectural or training mismatch. She contrasts this with how "reinforcement learning from human feedback has been a truly magical solution" for reducing compounding errors in math and code, yet the field has not widely applied equivalent techniques to writing. The author suspects writing lacks "good training data to specifically intervene on it," and that inference-time scaling (spending more compute tokens at generation) and prompt engineering, while helpful, will not unlock multiplicative gains.

For the author's own case, the calculus was pragmatic: she used AI to automate expensive, repetitive labor (syncing documents, formatting, copyediting passes) while reserving the generative core — structuring knowledge, organizing chapters, crafting the narrative spine — for herself. She accepted this asymmetry not because AI has reached parity with human expertise, but because the publishing timeline and field velocity made some time savings justified. Her caution is instructive: she explicitly avoids AI outputs in her blog writing, where voice and point of view are paramount, yet found it acceptable in a reference text where her role as expert gatekeeper could catch and correct AI flaws. This boundary suggests a sustainable middle ground — not that AI writing is solved, but that humans can leverage it productively only when they retain deep domain knowledge and editorial control.

FAQ

How much of the textbook was actually written by AI?
Less than 1% of the final text came from AI models. The author included a few technical explanation sentences from AI because she, as an expert, felt they were what the reader needed, particularly during the editing phase when managing the publishing timeline felt overwhelming.
What tasks did AI actually help with in the writing process?
AI models helped with LaTeX equation formatting, copyediting (GPT 5.5 Pro found deep, surprising typos across the 200–300 page manuscript; Claude offered more nuanced editorial suggestions), navigating editor comments embedded in code, and syncing between Markdown and LaTeX versions — a task the author estimates would have taken five times longer without AI agents.
Why does the author think current AI is poor at technical writing despite being good at coding and math?
The author observes that models can check individual units of content (sentences, equations, figures) and fix isolated problems, but struggle to revisit and string together multiple components as they make additions, causing compounding errors. Writing well appears to be a hard task that lacks good training data and is orthogonal to the coding and math skills where models have excelled.
Interconnects (Nathan Lambert)Read Original Article

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