How journalism training from last century became my secret weapon in the age of artificial intelligence

The panic call came at 3 PM on a Tuesday. A major client, three days before tender deadline, wanted to completely rewrite their defence tender. Not because it was wrong, but because it felt “soulless.” Empty. Generic. In a world drowning in AI-generated content, they were terrified of being accused of using artificial intelligence, even though they hadn’t!

As I hung up the phone, I couldn’t help but smile. After eight years at a metropolitan daily newspaper in the late 20th century, followed by decades in the tender writing trenches, I was watching a perfect storm unfold. The very skills that newsroom editors had beaten into me with ruthless efficiency were suddenly becoming the most valuable weapons in the AI arms race.

The Newsroom Crucible

Picture this: A large daily metropolitan newsroom (I won’t say which), sometime last century. Four deadlines a day – 10am, 1pm, 4pm and 11pm. Five hundred words due in three hours, and that includes research, interviews, fact-checking, and writing. No excuses. No extensions.

The editor’s line was simple: “Understand our readers. What do they need to know? How do you get it across in a way that grabs them by the throat and doesn’t let go? Make them feel it, angry, passionate, compelled.”

We learned shorthand because there wasn’t time to miss a quote. We developed an almost supernatural ability to assess information and distill it to its essence (BEFORE computers and the internet). Most importantly, we learned that the first two paragraphs were all we had – after that, readers’ brains would only wake up when something specifically interested them.

It was brutal. Editors formed a human wall between your copy and publication. Nothing got past them without earning its place. They made us better writers by force, creating what I now recognise as the perfect training ground for the AI era.

Everything old is new again…

The Revelation

That training came into play through my years of tender writing, but a recent conversation really struck a chord – in today’s AI environment. The conversation was with a client who was also an ex-journalist, now working in infrastructure proposals. We were discussing how AI was transforming our industry when something clicked.

“It’s forcing me to go back to those high-level things,” my client said during our meeting. “Who is our reader? What’s their literacy? What do they want to know? How do we get that across to them in a communication medium that is one-way only and therefore inherently difficult?”

Suddenly, I saw it clearly. AI isn’t killing our craft – it is demanding we return to journalism’s first principles. The technology is forcing us to become better communicators, not worse ones.

The Great Awakening

Here’s what I discovered: AI is like having a brilliant but inexperienced cadet journalist at your disposal. This was how new and young journalists honed their craft, writing the initial draft copy for the more seasoned lead journo. Now, AI is that cadet. It can research, draft, and even structure information beautifully. But it can’t read between the lines. It can’t sense when a client’s body language tells you that your pitch has missed the mark. It can’t navigate the cultural currents that make proposals succeed or fail spectacularly. It can’t add what you instinctively know.

The skills that made us good journalists – the ones that had been gathering dust in the digital age – are suddenly invaluable again.

The Journalist’s Eye…and Ear

AI can analyse sentiment in text, but it can’t catch the awkward silence when the procurement manager’s boss walks into the evaluation meeting. It can’t spot the tiny flinch that tells you your methodology hits too close to a sensitive issue, or recognise the moment when scepticism transforms into excitement and the tell-tale nodding heads.

I learned this lesson during a tender presentation for a major infrastructure upgrade. Our technical methodology was bulletproof, our team credentials impeccable, but something about the project director’s body language – crossed arms, distant stare – told me we’d completely missed what mattered. Instead of pushing through our polished capability statement, I stopped and asked about the challenges they’d faced with previous contractors. The conversation that followed wasn’t about construction techniques; it was about community disruption, political pressure, and the weight of delivering critical infrastructure that thousands relied on daily. Pinch-points. Stresses. All missing from the page. And only humans in the room.

When we left that presentation, we left understanding something crucial: people buy trust, partnership, and the confidence that someone truly gets their challenges. AI can’t provide that. Only humans can.

Years of Experience: Humans vs AI

AI learns from internet content, inheriting all its blind spots and biases. It might understand technical specifications perfectly, but it lacks the deeper contextual understanding that makes tender responses truly resonate. It can’t interpret the unspoken pressures facing procurement teams or the political sensitivities around major public projects.

Those random life experiences – working alongside trades on site, conversations with project managers who’ve seen decades of contract struggles and challenges, friends who work in local councils – create a network of insights no algorithm can match.

Recently, I was writing a methodology for managing contractor relationships on a complex transport project. AI delivered perfectly structured processes about communication protocols and reporting frameworks, but something felt mechanical and lifeless, hollow and perfunctory. Then I remembered a conversation with an old site manager from a previous company I had worked for, who’d managed the construction of a major tunnel project. He’d told me how the real breakthroughs came not from formal meetings, but from shared morning teas where subcontractors could voice concerns without fear. That human insight transformed our methodology from a rigid process into a relationship-building framework that resonated, aligned with client expectations and actually delivered on the requirements.

My cadet did good, but not good enough.

Embracing the Chaos

Life experience teaches you to venture into unknown territory. AI excels at identifying patterns and replicating what works, making it brilliant for safe, familiar content. But breakthrough ideas succeed precisely because they break patterns.

The best tender responses come from hunches, from connecting random dots, whiteboard brainstorming sessions, from knowing what is being unsaid and reading between the lines. Having the courage to present something that makes everyone uncomfortable – including you. Going beyond, thinking different, blue-sky solutions – we’ve all heard about these successful and risky strategies.

However, AI needs clear instructions and defined goals. But real procurement briefs are chaotic, contradictory, impossible. Human creatives often relish this chaos; it gets our blood pumping and forces fresh ideas to the surface.

This is where the spark happens, this is where the win is forged. Life. Not binary code.

The New Editorial Process

Remember those newsroom editors who formed an impenetrable wall? AI has given us the opportunity to recreate that crucial and critical filtering process. The technology becomes our eager cadet journalist, generating drafts at lightning speed. But we become the editors – the guardians of quality, the champions of human insight.

This is where our journalism training becomes pure gold. We know how to review copy with a critical eye. We understand that the first draft is just the beginning. We’re comfortable with iteration, with pushing back, with arguing, brainstorming, demanding better. Writing. Rewriting. Until it’s that winning front page copy.

My ex-journo client captured this perfectly: “I think there’s something around saying to ourselves, that first prompt in AI is simply just my plan, my approach to the written piece. I need to then review it and re-prompt it again for bronze review. Then silver. Then gold. Not just cut and paste.”

Amen to that.

Beyond the Page

As AI handles more technical work, human connections become exponentially more valuable. Clients aren’t just buying ideas; they’re buying someone they can call when things go wrong. Someone who remembers their son just started learnt to drive, notices they’re stressed, offers real support and offers solutions. The people behind the submission. Those who carry the contract for the months and years ahead.

Clients will come to expect submissions will be supported and built by AI. Procurement teams will be looking for the differences, the real human insight. They’ll be looking for the story – about them. About their needs and success. About the solution.

So now, as ever, these relationships require skills that can’t be programmed: listening properly, showing empathy, being vulnerable, knowing when to push and when to support. We develop these through practice, mistakes, and thousands of hours of human interactions. We sometimes get it wrong, but that makes it more meaningful when we get it right.

The Future Is Collaborative

The future of proposal writing won’t be about competing with machines. It’ll be about partnership – everyone doing what they’re best at. Our roles are evolving from “maker” to “decision-maker.” Less time executing, more time ensuring that execution serves real human needs, solves real solutions and delivers clear outcomes. Cut & Paste will be Dead & Buried. And about time.

This shift demands we focus our ongoing attention on distinctly human skills:

• Understanding context and cultural/company/personal nuances
• Building genuine relationships
• Taking creative risks
• Exhibiting real emotion and insight
• Managing the human complexities around any project

The Verdict

AI won’t kill the tender writing star – it reveals who the real stars always are.

Those of us with journalism training have been handed a gift: our foundational skills are suddenly the most valuable currency in the marketplace.

The ability to quickly assess information, understand your audience, and communicate with clarity and purpose to sharp deadlines – these aren’t becoming obsolete. They’re becoming essential. AI can generate content, but it takes human insight to ensure that content serves a purpose deeper than just ticking algorithmic compliant boxes.

So, to my fellow journalists-turned-proposal-writers: dust off those shorthand notebooks, remember those brutal newsroom lessons, step up to the editor’s desk and embrace the AI revolution. We’re not being replaced – we’re being elevated. The skills that made us good journalists are exactly what will make us indispensable in the age of artificial intelligence.

The tender writing star isn’t dead.

They’ve just learned to work with a very powerful, very talented cadet research assistant.

And frankly, it’s about time.

For more information about using AI in your bids and tenders visit Human-Powered AI.