My relationship with Artificial Intelligence (AI) has been nothing short of complicated. At first, the notion that a machine could generate art from simple instructions, known as prompts, struck me as revolutionary. A prompt is essentially a written request that guides the AI to create something specific, from art to text. The promise of delivering optimal and professional results, accessible to anyone regardless of their artistic background, intrigued and alarmed me simultaneously.
My concern was rooted in the possibility that these tools could displace traditional artists, allowing anyone to claim authorship of AI-generated works. This worry led me to publicly denounce AI with the universal "prohibited" symbol overlaid on the "AI" initials. However, as someone who values knowledge and the ability to change opinions through learning, my perspective began to evolve.
Over time, I discovered that AI is more than a tool; it's a gateway to endless creative possibilities. My experimentation with ChatGPT, an AI capable of generating text with astonishing comprehension and coherence, further expanded my appreciation for AI's potential in the creative process. It enabled me to design custom references for my projects, whether digital or manual, preserving the essence of my traditional artistic method.
I attempted to share this fascination through Instagram Reels, demonstrating how I used specific prompts to create images that I then incorporated into my art. However, the response was not unanimously positive. Some followers accused me of merely copying the AI-generated images, others argued that AI was stealing from artists, and a few expressed their disappointment on a more personal level.
This dialogue led me to question: Is AI plagiarizing artists? Since the launch of DALL.E 2 in April 2022, AI's ability to generate art has advanced exponentially. But should we consider these creations as plagiarism? Contrary to what some critics suggest, AI does not "memorize" and replicate existing art in a digital collage. Instead, it operates through probability distributions, a mathematical concept that allows for the generation of new data without directly copying from its training.
Imagine conducting a survey on the height of people on a street and using that data to estimate the average weight of a person without directly accessing individual responses. This is how generative AI works: it builds models based on probability, not exact copies of existing works.
However, there is a caveat. If a specific piece of data is overrepresented in the training dataset, and a very specific prompt is used, AI could generate something surprisingly similar to an existing work. Does this mean AI can plagiarize? Yes, but under very specific circumstances.
So, how do we navigate this new territory? One solution might be to acknowledge the artists and works that inspired AI's creations, a proposal already being debated in the legal circles of major tech companies. Generative AIs are redefining the boundaries of creativity and authorship. As we dawn on a new artistic era, it might be time to explore how technology and artistic tradition can coexist in harmony, rather than in conflict.
Now that we've briefly outlined how generative AIs function and proposed the idea of crediting the sources of their databases, I find myself reflecting on the impact of these technologies on the artistic community. Based on the comments from some of my followers, I sense a growing concern that AI is blatantly plagiarizing artists, using their works without consent to create new, original pieces.
This situation leads me to question the morality of the circumstances. I ponder those who, without hesitation, copy and paste what AI offers them, believing they've generated those images and claiming their authorship. This raises a troubling question: if what you do can be replicated by AI, will we still need you? Personally, I see AI as an essential tool in my creative process. It serves as an advanced search engine, elevating my creations to another level. I do not merely copy and paste; instead, I use AI to enhance my art without losing my innate essence as a creator. Adaptation becomes crucial in this context; AI is here to stay, reminding me of the historical relationship between painting and photography. In the mid-19th century, there was debate over whether photography would replace painting. Yet, both mediums have managed to coexist and complement each other.
This parallel teaches us that while some artistic practices may fade or transform with the arrival of new technologies, others will find ways to integrate these tools, creating a perfect symbiosis. Instead of viewing AI as a threat, we should consider it a source of inspiration and mutual growth. Currently, I feel there's an excessive focus on job loss concerns and criticism of artists seeking to complement their creative process with AI, rather than merely copying. We must recognize that, regardless of sophistication, tools are only as good as the hands that wield them. In the hands of those committed to a purpose and capable of imbuing their creations with identity, AI represents a significant advancement in artistic evolution.
Collaboration as the Future of Art
At the core of our journey with artificial intelligence in art lies a unique opportunity for collaboration. Although I initially feared that AI might displace traditional artists, my experience has taught me that these tools can act as a complement to human creativity, not a substitute. Instead of questioning whether AI is plagiarizing artists, we should consider how AI and humans can collaborate to create works that neither could achieve on their own. The real magic happens when we combine our artistic intuition with the nearly infinite capabilities of AI, pushing the boundaries of what's possible in art.