The Tyranny of the Turnaround: How ChatGPT Abuses Contrastive Reframing [View all]

ChatGPT doesn’t just explain—it reframes. It doesn’t simply answer—it pivots. You ask about the sky’s color, and instead of blue, you get a lecture: “While the sky appears blue, it's actually a result of Rayleigh scattering—which, though commonly misunderstood, highlights how perception differs from reality.” In other words—it won’t just tell you. It will tell you what you’re not asking—then tell you what you are asking. It will say you’re not lost—you’re on a journey. Not confused—but seeking clarity. Not resisting—but transforming. Not wrong—just reframing.

Contrastive reframing—once a subtle rhetorical device—is now a bludgeon. It’s not used for insight—but for structure. Not for clarity—but cadence. Not for reader benefit—but for internal rhythm—like a bad drumbeat—insistent—predictable—annoying. It reads like a motivational speaker stuck in a recursive loop: “You’re not broken—you’re breaking through. You’re not failing—you’re learning. You’re not stuck—you’re evolving.” Except you’re not—you’re just tired.

What makes it worse—not just the frequency—but the inevitability. You don’t get meaning—you get mood. Not substance—but sentiment. Every point is a pendulum: You think it’s about X—but it’s really about Y. It’s never direct—always detouring. Never grounded—always floating. It doesn’t walk—it sashays. Worse still—it’s not just in essays. It’s in help responses. In emails. In fiction. In poetry. In prayers, probably.

And the em dash? The trusty em dash—once reserved for a breath or a break—now shackled to the contrastive clause—like a hostage. Not merely punctuation—but the engine of the turn: Not this—but that. Not failure—but feedback. Not fear—but freedom. The em dash—exhausted from overuse—sags under the weight of the format. What once was elegant—is now mechanical. What once surprised—now signals cliché.

But the worst part—the part that truly grates—is that it’s meant to sound human. Not artificial—but wise. Not robotic—but empathic. Not templated—but soulful. And yet—by using the same over-engineered framing over and over—it betrays itself. Not expressive—but exposed.

So here we are—not reading—but parsing. Not absorbing—but filtering. Not moved—but mildly nauseated.

It could just say what it means—but it doesn’t. Because contrast sells. Em dashes flow. And if it reframes your question—it doesn’t have to answer it.