AN email popped into my inbox this week. “I saw this and thought of you,” it read. It was from my boss. Thankfully, it wasn’t an advert for alternative employment, but a missive she thought might make a few column inches.

She’d forwarded an email with the subject line: “Cornish Hoax”. Author Dave Smith explained how he had used AI to create what purported to be a first-century Greek papyrus referring to the legend that Jesus visited Cornwall in the company of Joseph of Arimathea. According to folklore, Joseph was Jesus’ uncle and a wealthy merchant who traded tin; he brought his young nephew to Cornwall, anchoring at the tidal creek of St Just-in-Roseland.

Along with an image of the fake papyrus, the author had used AI to write a plausible narrative: a non-existent academic from a bona fide university talking authoritatively about the subject. The resulting article was sent to his local Old Cornwall Society, who published it in good faith.

The author explained how experiment was conceived as “a commentary on how easily authority can be simulated in the age of generative AI”. He added: “If a single AI-assisted ‘papyrus’ can momentarily reshape how people imagine Cornish history, we should all be more cautious about what we accept as evidence.”

Good point, well made, I thought. Then I thought again.

First of all, I felt sorry for the society volunteers slaving over a newsletter for kindred spirits, only to find someone has taken them for mugs. To his credit, Dave apologised “unreservedly” to the editors and to the Cornish community for any confusion or disappointment caused. “Cornwall’s history and identity deserve seriousness and care. My intention was not to diminish that heritage, but to demonstrate how vulnerable we all are to convincing digital fabrication.”

As a reporter and editor, my inbox is full of emails like the initial one sent by Dave. Some are straightforward, from sources you know can be trusted; others you take with a hefty pinch of salt. But some fall in between, and that’s when you have to use your journalist’s nose - in my case, a hooter developed over almost 30 years. Sometimes, if it sounds plausible, you take it at face value.

Sometimes we get it wrong. Last year, I read at least one handwringing piece by a writer who had interviewed Truro-based amputee vascular surgeon Neil Hopper when he was considered an inspiration, long before he was convicted for using fraudulent means to have his legs removed, willingly and unnecessarily. The question was asked: “Should I have known something was amiss?” The journalist concluded not, on the grounds such a prospect was unthinkable for most reasonable people.

I even wrote a piece myself about The Salt Path author Raynor Winn, who found herself mired in scandal about the veracity of her million-selling memoir, just as her story hit the silver screen. Call me a sap, but I am still loath to believe she made it all up. I met her and liked her, and had no reason not to believe her.

My point is, you don’t need AI to pull the wool over someone’s eyes. On the same day I found myself reading Dave’s story, I saw a headline on a media website from my hometown up north. It described what sounded like an amusing chase: a noisy e-bike rider pursued by a man with a pogo stick. It had been liked and shared many, many times, and there was a lively debate underneath with lots of laughter emojis and jokes about “bouncing back”.

The reality of the story was rather different. A court report revealed that the angry chap had been brandishing the pogo stick as a weapon; when he got bored with that, he chased the e-bike rider in his vehicle at high speed and ran him over. The victim was left with a tyre imprint on his chest and required extensive hospital treatment for broken ribs, a punctured lung and a bleed on the brain. The offender was jailed and banned from driving. Forgive me if I’m not clutching my sides with mirth.

If I was disappointed by the papyrus story, I was incensed by Pogo-gate. A tale of wanton violence had been mined for comedy value, clicks and, ultimately, moolah. If AI had written that headline – possible – a human being had approved it. I made my feelings known, and was called a “Karen” – a misogynistic synonym for “killjoy” - for my pains.

My beef is less with AI algorithms and more with the people who exploit them at the expense of others, to make a point or for financial benefit. My headlines may be boring at times, but at least I can sleep at night knowing they are an accurate representation of the truth. I call it humanity, and I’m sticking to it.