Some people come to AI through technology. I came through language.
Two decades of writing, editing and communication work—across corporate boardrooms, government reports and a master’s degree in journalism—taught me one thing above everything else: clarity is rare, and it matters more than most people realise. The tools change. That doesn’t.
When AI arrived, I was curious before I was cautious. I could see what it could do, and I could see what it couldn’t—and the gap between those two things was exactly where a writer and editor with some experience might be useful.
My father Johan got there before me. At 84, he was studying machine learning and building an onion bulb planter—not for money, but because the problem was interesting and unsolved. When I complained that the world was overwhelming me with information, he said something I haven’t forgotten:
“Information is useless without experience.”
You can read everything about riding a bicycle. Without the wobbles and the falling off, you’ll still land on your backside.
That’s as good a description of what I do as any. I bring the experience—of language, of communication, of watching AI get things spectacularly wrong as well as surprisingly right—so that you don’t have to start from scratch. Your decades of judgement are not a liability in this new world. They’re your greatest asset. You just need someone to show you how to use them.
Curiosity doesn’t retire. And you’re better placed than you think.
The name
Ascension is a small island in the South Atlantic—remote, volcanic, genuinely unlike anywhere else—and it’s where I’m from. It also means rising to something. Both feel right.
The ethos
‘Remember that literacy is an accident of birth and does not confer superior wisdom or virtue.’ – Janet Mackenzie, The Editor’s Companion.
No jargon. No condescension. Just clear thinking, honestly shared.
Ascension Editing 