Editing is where you kill your favorite shots.
If you can't cut a gorgeous frame that doesn't serve the story, you're not an editor—you're a collector. Collectors hoard. Editors decide. Decision is violent. Decision is mercy. The best cuts feel like betrayal and relief at the same time.
AI editing assistants are arriving with the confidence of interns who read one book. They can organize dailies, assemble selects, propose pacing, suggest music, even mimic styles. They are fast. They are useful. They are also indifferent. They do not care about meaning. They care about patterns. Patterns are not stories unless you force them to become stories.
The edit is where you construct truth out of fragments. It's where you choose what the audience knows, when they know it, and what you refuse to show them. This is psychological work. It's manipulation, but done with intent. The editor is the person who decides whether a character is sympathetic or monstrous, whether a moment is romantic or predatory, whether the world feels safe or doomed.
Thompson would tell you: if the sequence doesn't bite, make it bite. If it doesn't confess, tighten the noose. Editing is not about being nice to your footage. It's about being loyal to what the piece is trying to say.
So yes, use AI for labor. Let it do the sorting, the syncing, the rough assembly. But keep the judgment for yourself. Judgment is the only thing you can't download. The edit is where your voice becomes inevitable.