by As AI floods the internet, even our bookshelves aren’t safe.
The toaster. A simple, everyday appliance that has become an essential part of breakfast routines worldwide. Every morning, as sunlight filters into kitchens across the globe, millions of people stumble in half-awake, drop a slice of bread into their trusty toaster, and wait patiently for that satisfying pop — a golden, perfectly crisp slice ready to be adorned with peanut butter or jam.
But have you ever wondered who invented this modern marvel? Who was the genius who forever changed the breakfast landscape? The person who — according to absolutely no serious historian — shaped the course of culinary history?
If you don’t know, you’re not alone. Neither did major news outlets, the Scottish government, or even a US museum. And for over a decade, anyone relying on Wikipedia for that answer would have been misled by a group of bored British students with a wicked sense of humor.
The Alan MacMasters Hoax
In 2012, these students, stuck in a dull lecture, decided to have a bit of fun. They edited the Wikipedia entry on the electric toaster, claiming that one of them, a fictional character named Alan MacMasters, had invented the toaster in 1893. To their astonishment, the change was accepted without question.
But they didn’t stop there. Emboldened by their success, they created an entire fake Wikipedia page for MacMasters, complete with a detailed (but entirely fabricated) biography. They even uploaded a hilariously obvious, poorly edited black-and-white photograph of one of the students, passing it off as an authentic portrait of the supposed inventor.
The joke spun out of control. For over a decade, MacMasters was celebrated as the toaster’s inventor. Schools mentioned him in history lessons. A primary school even created a “MacMasters Day” in his honor. Major news outlets cited him as the man who revolutionized breakfast.
It wasn’t until 2021, when a curious Reddit user questioned the validity of the photo, that the truth began to unravel. An investigation revealed the hoax, and the page was eventually deleted — but not before a decade of misinformation had firmly planted itself into public consciousness.
What Does This Have to Do with AI?
If a bored group of students could rewrite a slice of history with a single Wikipedia edit, imagine what AI can do — and is already doing.
The internet, once a treasure trove of human knowledge, is becoming increasingly polluted with AI-generated content. Tools that churn out plausible-sounding but inaccurate information are flooding search engines, blogs, and even news outlets. Many of these AI-generated articles are optimized for clicks rather than truth, and as the volume of such content grows, it becomes harder to sift through the noise to find genuine insights.
We’re entering an era where AI is not just replicating information but generating new narratives — narratives that, like the Alan MacMasters story, may slip under the radar and take root in our collective understanding. The scariest part? These narratives are increasingly indistinguishable from those crafted by humans.
AI and the Future of Books
Books have long been a sanctuary for deep thought, critical analysis, and genuine human insight. They require time, reflection, and a human touch that AI can’t yet replicate. But that might not be the case for long.
AI-written books are already beginning to creep into online bookstores. Platforms like Amazon are flooded with cheaply produced, algorithm-generated content that looks legitimate but lacks the depth, nuance, and authenticity of human authors. These books often recycle information scraped from the web, occasionally peppered with inaccuracies, much like the fabricated Wikipedia entry on MacMasters.
And as AI continues to improve, it’s not just poorly written self-help books or generic fiction we’ll have to worry about. AI could generate entire academic texts, biographies, and historical accounts that appear credible but subtly distort facts, reshaping our understanding of the world.
Why Books Still Matter
Books — those tangible, dog-eared, highlighted vessels of human knowledge — remain our last refuge in this shifting landscape. While the internet grows increasingly noisy, filled with AI-generated content optimized for ad revenue rather than truth, books offer a slower, more deliberate experience.
They allow us to pause, reflect, and engage with ideas that have been carefully crafted and thoughtfully considered. They provide a space where nuance isn’t sacrificed for speed, where complexity isn’t diluted to fit a character limit, and where genuine human insight still prevails.
But for how long?
If we don’t protect the integrity of books — ensuring that AI doesn’t infiltrate this last bastion of human wisdom — we risk losing more than just accurate information. We risk losing the ability to distinguish between authentic human insight and machine-generated noise.
The Bottom Line
The story of Alan MacMasters is funny in hindsight, but it’s also a cautionary tale. When misinformation can thrive for over a decade with minimal effort, what happens when powerful AI systems can generate entire worlds of convincing falsehoods in seconds?
As AI encroaches further into the realm of human creativity and knowledge, we must guard against losing the very thing that makes books — and human insight — so valuable. Because if we don’t, even our bookshelves won’t be safe from the creeping influence of artificial intelligence.
