How to make AI write in YOUR site's voice (not generic ChatGPT style)

To make AI write in your site's voice instead of generic ChatGPT style, stop feeding it one global tone prompt and instead learn a separate style profile from your own published content — one per post type, one per language. A site doesn't have a single voice: a WooCommerce product description, a blog post, and a category intro on the same store are written in genuinely different registers, and one "brand voice" prompt averages them into a tone that matches none of them.

That's the piece every "train AI on your brand voice" guide misses. The standard advice — paste six to ten writing samples into ChatGPT, ask it to extract a tone, save the result in custom instructions — produces exactly one voice and assumes your whole site speaks it. Real sites don't. That generic-generation instinct is exactly what separates a writing-first SEO suite from a fix-from-your-data one, the split we take apart in Contexta vs Rank Math. We build the content engine inside a WordPress plugin, so this is the version from the other side: what a style profile actually captures, why it has to be split by post type and language, and where the whole approach breaks.

Why does AI default to "ChatGPT style" in the first place?

Because a model with no examples writes to the average of its training data, and the average of the internet is the smooth, hedged, list-happy register everyone now recognizes as "AI wrote this." The tells are consistent: tidy three-item lists, "In today's landscape," even sentence lengths, a reluctance to commit, and transitions like "moreover" and "furthermore" that no human writes twice in a paragraph. None of that is a bug; it's the model doing its job with no signal about how you write.

A single tone prompt only partly fixes this. "Write in a friendly, confident, concise voice" narrows the average a little, but adjectives are weak instructions — every brand claims "friendly and confident," and the model already has a generic rendering of those words. What actually moves the output is concrete examples of your real sentences, because those carry the specifics adjectives can't name. Voice sits on top of structure, not instead of it: the answer-first structure that gets content cited is a separate layer, and matching your tone won't rescue a page that buries its answer.

What actually makes a site's voice — and why isn't it one voice?

A voice is a bundle of measurable habits — sentence-length rhythm, vocabulary, formality, which person it speaks in (we/you/I), punctuation tics, how sentences open — and most sites run several of these bundles at once. On one store, the product pages might be short, second-person, and benefit-led ("Fits in your pocket. Charges in an hour."); the blog is first-person-plural and explanatory; the category pages are neutral and keyword-anchored. Those aren't inconsistencies to fix. They're three correct registers for three different jobs.

This is why a single learned voice underperforms. Feed a model your product copy and your blog posts mixed together and it learns the average of a punchy register and a discursive one — an in-between tone that reads slightly wrong on both. The fix isn't a better global prompt; it's refusing to have a global voice at all. Learn product-description style from product descriptions, blog style from blog posts, and apply each only where it belongs — and apply it first where it pays back, on the pages actually losing clicks rather than every page at once.

How do you learn a style profile instead of writing one by hand?

You build the profile from a corpus of the site's own published content in that post type, extracting the recurring patterns rather than asking a human to describe them. Describing your own voice is unreliable — writers are bad at naming what they do, and "professional but approachable" tells the model nothing it didn't already assume. The content itself is the honest source: sentence-length distribution, the words this site reaches for and the ones it avoids, average paragraph size, list frequency, opening moves, formality markers. Learned from enough real posts, that profile reproduces the feel without anyone having to articulate it.

The corpus size is the first real constraint. A post type with three published posts can't yield a stable profile — you'd be learning one author's mood on three days, and the model overfits their quirks. In practice you want at least a few dozen genuine examples per post type before the profile is more signal than noise; below that, the honest move is to fall back to the nearest well-populated type or a light generic default, and say so, rather than pretend a confident voice exists.

This is the mechanism behind our own tool: Contexta's AI editor learns a style profile per post type and per language from the site's existing content, then rewrites or drafts new content in that specific learned voice — and because it also pulls from the real WooCommerce catalog, it won't invent a price or spec while matching your tone. It's the multi-voice version of the manual custom-instructions trick, maintained automatically instead of by hand.

Why does each language need its own profile, not a translation?

Because a language's voice is native to that language, and learning the English voice then translating it produces translationese — grammatically fine, unmistakably foreign in rhythm. A German product page written by a German copywriter is not the German translation of the English page; it has different sentence structure, different compound habits, a different formality default (the sie/du choice has no English equivalent). If you learn one voice in English and machine-translate it, you inherit English word order and idiom wearing German words, and native readers feel it immediately even when they can't name what's off.

So the profile has to be learned per language from that language's own published content. The Spanish voice comes from the site's real Spanish posts, the French voice from its French posts — each captured natively, not derived from the English one. This is also where a common failure hides: if a site's non-English content is itself machine-translated or AI-generated, learning a profile from it just relearns translationese and launders it back out. Garbage voice in, garbage voice out. On a WPML site this is the default rather than the exception, because WPML builds each language as a translation of your source unless you deliberately write native content per language. A language profile is only as good as the human-written content it's built from, which for many sites means the English profile is strong and the others are thin — an honest limit worth knowing before you trust the output.

When does a learned style profile fail?

It fails when the source content is inconsistent, thin, or already generic — the profile can only be as coherent as the writing it learned from. Three failure modes show up repeatedly, and none of them are fixable by the model:

• Many authors, clashing styles. A blog with five writers who never agreed on a voice yields a profile that's an average of all five — it sounds like no one, which is arguably worse than generic. The realistic fix is to learn from a single strong author's posts, not the whole pile.
• Poisoned corpus. If half the existing posts were written by an earlier AI tool, the learned voice is partly that tool's voice. You'll relearn and amplify the exact genericness you were trying to escape.
• Amplified tics. Profiles overfit quirks. If past content leaned on em dashes or opened every post with a rhetorical question, the model will do it more, not less, until the tic becomes a parody of the voice.

The honest trade-off against the manual approach: for a small site with one voice and one language, writing a single tone prompt by hand is genuinely fine and cheaper than any system. Learned per-type, per-language profiles earn their keep when you have real scale — several post types across several languages, where maintaining a dozen separate voice prompts by hand stops being realistic. The split gets sharpest when two types point in opposite directions, which is why a single voice ruins both recipes and product pages the moment a content site adds a shop. If that's not your site, the fancy version is overkill, and we'd rather say so than sell it to you.