The A.I. Dilemma

Art, truly, is one of the few things humans have left. We need art to tell us stories, to save us from our shared doom, our fear of death, and our fear of one another. We need artists to show us that we are not always alone. One cannot cry on the shoulders of a robot, but one can get out of bed, finally, because of a song or a poem. This takes art from the realm of creation to the realm of delivery, and absorption. We need our films, our paintings, our poems, and our music to be human-made, because we are humans. But as with any conversation involving art or technology, we can often get lost in the verbiage. The following is an attempt to lay out my thoughts in the simplest possible way, in the simplest possible terms.

In the 21^st century, we are certainly seeing the consequences of severed connections; dating, largely due to dating apps, is a disaster. Social media, a once innocent form of sharing moments with friends, has all but destroyed a generation through the narcissism of likes, infinite scrolling, follower counts, and impossible body standards (standards so impossible that they are likely formulated by filters).

These mechanisms were all thought to provide a connection through technology. They were supposed to bring people together to share ideas. We didn’t know it would lead to phenomena like rampant ghosting, or the all too common visual of a family outing for dinner, every one of them with their heads in their phones. 

And as of right now, there is a debate being had, particularly in many circles of Substack, on the use of A.I. as a form of making art. Some have said that A.I. makes better art, quicker art, and provides itself as an easy tool to create imagery, text, and music–without all the hassle of learning a craft, purchasing supplies, honing a talent, etc. Others, like myself, protest the whole of it. 

I’ll be honest– I do not like A.I. I do not like it as art or as a tool of any kind. Perhaps I am just old-fashioned, but that is how I feel about it. For starters, I believe the imagery it creates, generally speaking, to be tacky, slick, devoid of feeling, devoid of anything resembling humanity–no surprise, really, considering the tool itself is a machine. But this is an aesthetic concern, and one I will forgive, momentarily. There is plenty of ugly human-made art. I wish to convey my thoughts on A.I. from a more conceptual standpoint, rather than a stylistic one. 

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In the 20^th century, much progress was made in areas of technology, production, efficiency, et al. It is well understood the capacity for machine work to lighten the burden of human labor. It is well understood, too, the capacity of technology to aid humans in practically every area of our lives. From calculators that confirm needy arithmetic to the cell phone, to refrigerators that text us when our milk is getting low, it is abundantly clear that humans will not go on without the aid of technological advancements. For that matter, I believe A.I. is here to stay. Like the internet and social media, there is no getting that cat back in the bag.

The concern for me, and I believe others, is not that A.I. will replace artists in earnest. I do not know of a single artist who believes that A.I. is capable of producing scripts, poems, art, or music that rivals that of human creation. I would say that what A.I. produces is not art at all. The real concern, however, is how a new generation of humans will begin to perceive beauty, the impossible, the spirit that is human creation. While A.I. cannot produce great things, it can produce things quickly, which gives it an attraction that old-fashioned hard work and craft cannot match. That is to say, will humans, yet again, choose the quick, the expedient, the easy, the new and shiny? And if so, what will we have lost in the process? What would we make of a future world where there is even less appreciation for human art? 

I think every new technology that implicates connectivity can only be a substitute for the real thing. I think we need to pause A.I.– and think long and hard about driving at the speed of sound into the unknown. 

I don’t want to live in a world where television and film are written by computers, lyrics are vocalized by headless robots, and poems and paintings are composed by a drop-down menu from corporate overlords. I don’t see the value in it. I don’t see the beauty. Art, in a sense, is the point. The process is too important. A.I. can only provide output.

If a home-cooked meal is art, then A.I. is a frozen, microwaved TV dinner.

From what I can gather, those who propose A.I. as a form of art do so from the standpoint of apathy. Culturally, they are technological fetishists. It is a world of fantasy, cosplay, and roleplay. Within it, I find there to be a death wish of a kind. The will, the need, to live in the matrix of the machine. And with the donning of this aesthetic, comes along an attitude. Technological progress for its own sake. How often have I heard art being referred to as “art for art’s sake”?

I think there is a much more pernicious, dangerous ethos attached to technology for technology’s sake. Because we can, does not mean we ought to. Because technology is sometimes capable, does not make it for the good. In the case of art, A.I. neither can nor should. But that won’t stop a large swath of humanity from playing with their new toy–forever in substitute of the real thing. In this way, it is not art that I would mourn, but humanity, and the process of self-reflection, introspection, and expression that is born out of the creative process.

Humans are still in their infancy. We are still learning, fighting for our own humanity, evolving toward the slow arc of peace and justice, still organizing ourselves, still pondering our future world. In this infancy, we should not give up what makes us human. We should not give our self-expression away for expedience, ease, or convenience. 

A.I. cannot make art any more than it can mourn, become jubilated, or fear death. The origin of art and its usage are exactly what a machine is lacking. So much so, that not only is A.I. not art, it is its opposite. 

The Conversation
Fix this error, I asked the machine, and 
Fixed that error, it obeyed.

Finish the equation, I asked the machine, 
And it was numbers that it gave.

Changing the subject, 
To matters of the heart,
I thought it good to listen,
How the machine just sputtered out
only that which it was given.

JSV
2024

Wrong Speak is a free-expression platform that allows varying viewpoints. All views expressed in this article are the author's own.