Recently, I explored the technology behind AI-generated headshots.
The results? Pretty impressive. Nicely lit, professional-looking, and all without stepping into a studio.
But as a designer in a creative industry, where individuality and originality are essential, this technology raises some serious questions: what does it mean for creativity?
Imagine using AI to align the collective headshots of your entire team into a singular look – white teeth, white shirts, and just-a-little-bit-slimmer – as though individuality could be neatly smoothed out by an algorithm. Well, you don’t need to imagine; it’s already here.
“We had the dream last night. We had the same dream!” This kind of AI use feels Orwellian. And yet, in a creative industry where individuality and expression are currency, people are diving head-first into an AI future without really considering the ramifications. What does this technology signal for creative industries?
Chuck Palahniuk, the author of Fight Club, once described modern consumer culture as “a copy of a copy of a copy.” He was probably thinking of Ikea churning out flat-pack furniture, but the sentiment feels eerily relevant here. AI doesn’t create from scratch; it imitates. It reassembles fragments of the past into something plausible for the present.
Art, music, literature, and photography aren’t just outputs; they’re reflections of culture, imagination, and progress. Without human creativity inspiring and replenishing the cultural pool, we risk stagnation – a “status quo” where the new is simply a remix of the old. A rise of the machines? Perhaps. But more alarmingly for creative, the rise of the same-same.
Also concerning is that the proliferation of AI imagery is hampering our ability to tell the difference between what is real and what is not. Case in point, recent reports that Google image searches for a “baby peacock,” returned only four real images. The rest? AI-generated.
Or this widely circulated image of a girl and her puppy following Hurricane Helene. 404’s Jason Koebler points to this image as an example of the ‘Fuck it’ era of AI-generated slop, a moment in time when people have stopped caring whether images are real or fake.
No doubt AI is reshaping the creative landscape, and I can’t help but reflect on the implications of this technology – not just for our craft, but for the profession as a whole. Anyone can now use AI to produce work with a degree of appreciable quality. But while tools like Canva democratised design, AI threatens to take design, indeed creativity, away from us.
When Canva entered the scene, it disrupted the industry by enabling anyone to create basic design outputs. And, let’s be honest, those outputs – the flyers, social media posts, and generic templates – were the kind of work that choked design studios and numbed creative minds. Canva simplified those tasks, freeing designers to focus on more complex and fulfilling projects. AI, however, is different. It’s not just streamlining; it’s full-lining creativity.
The way I see it, there are two critical issues at play here: one logical, the other existential.
The logical issue: If we continue to hand over design tasks to a technology capable of learning, adapting, and replicating, we’ll eventually do ourselves out of jobs. Why? Because no one will pay for what they can get for free – or at the low cost of an AI subscription.
Creative industries risk becoming a niche market, sustained only by a handful of innovators who are financially cushioned by inherited wealth or second jobs. The rest of us may find ourselves edged out.
Marvel’s Secret Invasion is a case in point. The series faced backlash when it was revealed that its opening credits were generated by AI, effectively precluding work for graphic designers and animators.
The existential issue: What is creativity if it’s not human? The very definition of creativity is the use of imagination to innovate, solve problems, or create something new. And imagination is a distinctly human trait.
AI doesn’t imagine – it synthesises. It draws from what already exists, rearranging elements into something plausible. It doesn’t dream. It doesn’t ask “what if?” It simply replicates the past, serving up variations on themes that have already been explored.
In doing so, AI is stripping creativity of its essence: the human spark of originality. Art, music, and photography – these are not just outputs. They’re reflections of culture, imagination, and progress.
So what’s the solution? Designers, and all paid creative professionals, must very consciously view AI as a tool – not a quick-fix solution or, worse, a virtual employee. We need to proceed with caution. Unchecked adoption of AI devalues what we do, logically and existentially.
I’m somewhat comfortable using AI as a load-lifter – a means to optimise processes or streamline labour-intensive tasks. But I’m far less comfortable when AI becomes the start, middle, and end of the creative process.
AI is a tool. A powerful one. And like any power tool, it can rip through your femoral artery and leave you bleeding out on the floor. So, yes, I will use AI, but I’m not going to give it a desk and a brief and let it take away the one thing it can’t replicate – human creativity and innovation.
Tom Hutcheon, design director and co-founder of US+US.