Hmm, I guess I didn't see it as pandering, or I'm misunderstanding what you mean by pandering; if anything it I saw it as the opposite, since the author (a writer) is poking fun at writers. So instead of a story about a bunch of noble, intelligent, sexy writers who defeat the big bad AI, it's a story where these writers are regular, imperfect people with their own insecurities and selfish motivations. But even as imperfect people, their fears and goals are (to me!) sympathetic.

My perception here is probably colored by some of the circles I run in, too. I think a lot of writers and artists are concerned about AI, and will reassure themselves how their jobs are safe because AI can only produce crap, but then they'll also complain how a lot of popular human-produced art is also crap--which opens up a kind of dual insecurity of (1) why is that crap popular and not my own amazing, brilliant work and (2) if audiences already love crap then maybe AI really will take all of our jobs after all...

And I'm probably reading waaaaay deeper into the "I thought genre was beneath you" line than the author ever intended, but that's what it evokes to me. It makes the three writers in the story seem like jerks, which keeps the whole thing from feeling like a two-dimensional morality tale, but it also makes the AI really seem like a jerk for playing to their insecurities, which reminds me that I'm still rooting for those three jerks.