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Why Your "Remove AI Tone" Skill Barely Works

Long-Form Video · EP0080 August 5, 2026 04:47
What this episode covers

This episode flopped on the first take. I recorded it with my digital avatar, loaded up a full suite of human-tone skills, and the result was — polished nonsense. The language sounded right, but there was no logical thread, no "here's the problem, here's how it works" structure that I'm giving you now in person. So I scrapped it and re-shot. The flop itself is the best proof of what I want to talk about today: removing AI tone is not a one-skill problem.

People in my community have been downloading all kinds of de-AI-tone skills — including one I published myself — and the feedback keeps coming back the same: still smells like AI. The issue isn't that the skill lacks detail. It's that everyone treats "AI tone" as a single-point problem, something you fix by bolting on one more constraint. In reality it's a chain: model selection, the system prompt baked into your runtime environment, the logic structure of your first draft, and only then the language polish. Break any link and the rest falls apart.

Companion files · Drop them into Claude Code
Rewriting the System Prompt: Configuration Playbook for Three Agents HTML 36 KB
A single-page playbook covering Claude Code, Codex, and Tencent WorkBuddy with equal depth. It also includes the verbatim prompt text of the built-in output styles, extracted from the installed CLI binary — Explanatory turns out to be three sentences plus a one-line state marker — and derives from them the seven structural moves Anthropic actually uses (restate the role then bolt on the delta, one separate sentence for manner, an explicit length license, a one-line state marker, numeric thresholds, hard invariants, and a fully worked example). Those are then compared side by side with the English community collection and a 5,000-word Chinese de-AI-tone skill, and the conclusion cuts against intuition — length is not a quality signal. What decides the outcome is which layer you install into, whether your rules can be counted, and whether you have any way to verify the thing actually loaded. It starts with the distinction that decides everything downstream — replacement versus append. Replacement-type customization swaps out the vendor's built-in behavioral instructions along with the tone, which is the cost most people don't realize they're paying. Then, for each platform — which file to edit, what to write in it, how to verify it actually loaded, and what silently breaks. The Claude Code section reflects the shipping 2.1.223 build — the /output-style command shown in the video was deprecated in v2.1.73 and removed in v2.1.91, leaving /config as the only path, and it covers keep-coding-instructions defaulting to false, the single easiest thing to get wrong. The Codex section shows how to isolate a writing persona from an engineering persona using profiles (the only one of the three that does this cleanly) plus the division of labor between model_instructions_file and AGENTS.md. The WorkBuddy section is a first-hand finding — the persona layer lives in three files under ~/.workbuddy/ — IDENTITY, SOUL, USER — while the official settings screen exposes no prompt controls at all, and on a real install those three files ship empty with the BOOTSTRAP.md you're supposed to delete still sitting there. Includes word-frequency and nine-group comparison data (the token "bullet" appears 28 times in the Cowork prompt, 4 in Chat, 0 in Claude Code; the same question drops from 29 lines to 11), the canary verification method, and every claim tagged by provenance — official docs, first-hand machine, or unverified. The system-prompt texts come from a public leak repository never acknowledged by the vendors, and the page labels that as a strong lead rather than settled fact.
Templates, the bense-polish Skill, and a Checker ZIP 25 KB
Thirteen ready-to-use files, thin persona and thick rulebook, both layers included. The persona half is deliberately slimmed to the official three-sentence skeleton — the bense output style sets role, manner, a length license, and one state-marker line, with not a single banned-word list inside it; Codex gets a writing-profile config.toml plus a replacement-type model_instructions file (one machine, two clean personas), alongside an append-type AGENTS.md; the WorkBuddy IDENTITY / SOUL / USER trio is annotated in fill order. The skill half was rethought from scratch, because the episode's own thesis convicts any shipped static rule list — whatever you download is, by definition, someone else's skill. So bense-polish carries nobody's positive style. It is a two-mode workflow. Polish mode runs a built-in universal negative list first (AI's shared bad habits — merged from Humanizer-zh, the negative half of Khazix's khazix-writer, and the author's fingerprint, organized by the episode's three layers of formatting, verbal habit, and narrative structure, each group attributed), then a second pass against your own voice-profile.md, then script verification. Setup mode builds that profile — you hand over 5-10 pieces of your real writing (speech transcripts and long chat messages count; AI-assisted drafts don't, that's the AI's voice), and it quantifies your filler-word rates, sentence openers, narrative skeleton, and closing habits into a profile you confirm before it lands. Universal flaws ship as a list; personal voice gets extracted on site — which is the fix for "downloaded skills never work" itself. Khazix's personal tics were deliberately not absorbed; they appear only as the cautionary example. The skill follows standard anatomy — SKILL.md routing, references for the rulebook and extraction method, scripts for the checker — and installs on all three tools — Claude Code and Codex via their skills directories, WorkBuddy via in-chat upload. The checker is zero-install stdlib, exits pre-commit-friendly, and only reports — every hit is yours to overrule. Every template ends with a state marker, because all three products share one flaw — a mistyped key or wrong path raises no error and silently falls back to default, so "misconfigured" and "not loaded" look identical in the terminal.

This episode flopped on the first take. I recorded it with my digital avatar, loaded up a full suite of human-tone skills, and the result was — polished nonsense. The language sounded right, but there was no logical thread, no “here’s the problem, here’s how it works” structure that I’m giving you now in person. So I scrapped it and re-shot. The flop itself is the best proof of what I want to talk about today: removing AI tone is not a one-skill problem.

People in my community have been downloading all sorts of de-AI-tone skills — including ones from well-known creators — and the feedback keeps coming back the same: barely works. My own “language-expression DNA” skill got the same complaint. So where does the problem actually lie?

Let’s start with what AI tone even is. A few things. AI invents words — compounds that don’t exist in natural Chinese but look plausible enough that the model just coins them. Then there’s the translation layer: most major models think in English and convert to Chinese on output, so you get this unmistakable translationese — awkward “it is not X, it is Y” constructions everywhere. Even a word like “loop” gets rendered as something closer to “ring” instead of the natural Chinese equivalent. That’s where the smell comes from.

Most de-AI-tone skills stack three layers of constraint. Layer one is formatting: continuous paragraphs, no numbered headings, no formulaic summary sentences, sometimes even banning formal punctuation. Layer two is speech habits: my skill, for instance, makes the model learn my verbal tics, throw in filler words like “好吧,” even sprinkle in the occasional typo on purpose. Layer three is discourse structure: some people naturally argue top-down, conclusion first, then evidence; others narrate linearly, guiding the reader step by step like a tour guide; some lean on analogies, some quote classics. All of that goes into the language DNA constraints. Three layers deep — and it’s still not enough.

Because here’s what people forget: every skill runs on top of a model, and models are wildly different. Even within the same company — 4.8, Opus 5, Opus 4.6 — the gap is huge. If you write with AI regularly, I’d suggest doing what I do: take the models with strong Chinese output — Kimi’s K3, DeepSeek’s latest V4, Opus 4.6 — run the same prompt and skill through each, compare side by side, then pick. In my experience, Opus 4.6 wins most rounds.

Still not enough. Take Claude Code: it has three modes — Chat, Cowork, and Code. Same prompt, same skill, different model API — and the three modes produce completely different output. Anyone who’s used it notices that Cowork output is notably better, genuinely human-feeling; even casual conversation in Cowork mode feels like talking to a real person. Code mode? Pure engineering-report style. The reason is the system prompt baked into Claude Code’s harness. Cowork is specifically optimized for text output — it essentially has that human-tone skill built into the foundation. Code mode’s system prompt opens with something like “You are an engineer who helps people write code.” With that sitting at the bottom of the stack, what skill you bolt on top barely matters.

This isn’t unsolvable, though. Claude Code has a setting called output style. The latest version ships with four built-in styles — Default, Proactive, Explanatory, Learning — but honestly none of them are great for this purpose. What you need to do is have Claude Code write a custom writing-focused output style, drop it into the output style options, pull it up via the slash-config command, close the window, reopen, and only then does it load a “speak like a human” system prompt at the base layer.

Even after all that, the output genuinely sounds human — but it still might not sound like a person with a point to make. That’s exactly why my first take flopped. The digital-avatar version had flavor in the language but couldn’t hold a logical thread.

So AI writing is really a two-stage job. Stage one is the first draft: what’s the core argument, what evidence supports it, what’s the narrative arc. At this stage you don’t worry about tone — you worry about getting all the information down in a coherent order and structure. Stage two is the polish — that’s where system prompts and skills earn their keep, shaping the output into something that reads like a person actually wrote it.

Try to collapse both stages into one skill and you get what my digital avatar produced: sentences that sound human, wrapped around an explanation that makes no sense. Companion materials are linked for this episode. See you tomorrow.

The language had flavor, but the whole thing made no sense — AI writing is a two-stage problem, and your skill only covers the second stage.