The End of Creativity?

AI cannot replicate what it means to be human.

As it is now, you can ask an AI computer to generate an image of Yosemite Valley, with gray clouds, and in watercolor. And you’ll get something that looks remarkable—like the image above, which was generated by DALL-E 2 AI system. You can then print it and frame it and hang it in your home.

This might seem depressing to a person like me, who has taken up watercolor painting in retirement.  It will take me many more months of honing techniques before I will be able to pull off something like this. But why bother when DALL-E 2 can do it for me in seconds?

This new reality is the cause of much grief in the artistic and literary communities.  In a similar way, there are AI bots that can create essays, short stories, and perhaps novels. What’s a writer or artist to do?

In fact, we’ve been wrestling with this phenomenon for some time. Furthermore, understanding the dynamics of what’s going on here reveals something about our God-given nature.  Further still, this applies to every one of us, because every one of us is creative.

Aside from the traditional arts and writing, we each engage in all manner of creative endeavors: gardening, carpentry, pottery, flower arranging, home decorating, dance, music, and so forth.  There is even a creative aspect to plumbing or electrical work, believe it or not. (I’m a handyman who works on old homes and apartments, and believe me, lots of creativity is demanded to solve old problems!)

This accords with Christian anthropology—the theology of what it means to be human. We have been created in the image of God, and one aspect of that image is that we have the ability to create.  Some argue (Dorothy Sayers, as I recall) that this is the main way we image God.

But this isn’t the first time in history we’ve figured out how to outsource our creativity.  Most people don’t have the time or interest to learn to paint the human face.  So they hire a professional artist to paint portraits of their children.  The same could be said of gardening: some people don’t have the time or inclination to get their hands in the dirt, so they hire professionals to create and maintain their garden. We consider this perfectly legitimate, and the end result is something beautiful to behold.

Yet wouldn’t the portraits of one’s children be more meaningful to behold if they were painted by their artistic grandmother?  And wouldn’t the garden be more special if it were created and maintained by your father as a gift to you?  In other words, the more personal connections one has to the beautiful product, the more meaningful it is—even if it doesn’t look as wonderful as work created by professionals.  

Take it one step further and deeper. As anyone who has taken up painting will tell you, you’ve now entered a different dimension. When it comes to portraits, for example, the first thing required is learning to see the subject, really see it, noticing the finest details—how the eyes are not quite symmetrical, how the lips have a unique and lovely shape, how the skin tones move ever so subtly from light to dark, and then that almost invisible freckle on the left cheek.  There are hundreds of details that make up a unique human face.  And among those details the artist has to choose which ones to accent and which to ignore to make the likeness and personality of the subject pop for the viewer. 

In the process of seeing, sketching, underpainting, painting, adding highlights and shadows, you learn a great deal about the subject--and something about yourself.  And something about the wonder of God’s creation.  Again, the final painting may not be as perfect as a portrait by a professional, but it is far more meaningful to you as the artist and to those who know you and see the work.

When people go on and on about how AI will create new art that will make our lives so much easier, they are missing the point.  Creativity is not solely or even mostly about the end product.  Of course you hope for a decent product, something lovely or even beautiful to behold.  But art is mostly about engaging in the creative process. A process we were created to participate in.  A process that teaches us not only about what we’re looking at but also about ourselves. A process that schools us not only in techniques but also patience, perseverance, and most importantly the sensitivity to wonder. 

AI cannot do any of that.  Yes, it can create “paintings” that people might buy and hang in their living rooms—and yes, perhaps, this will sabotage the livelihood of some artists. But I’d still rather buy a painting from an artist I know or have met, who has told me about his vision for the piece. That personal connection puts the painting in a different context and thus a different reality.  Anyone can buy a reproduction of Rembrandt’s “Prodigal Son,” or even hire an expert oil painter who can create an exact replica. But it’s not the same as seeing the original (or having the original hang in your home!)—which is precisely why we visit the Prado or The Art Institute of Chicago.

None of us has the time or inclination to do every creative work from scratch, so we use computers and other technology as well as other people to do much of this for us.  I’ve never mastered a musical instrument, but I love to hear people who have.

Still, we are not living as the person God created us to be—creators!—if we outsource every activity that involves some level of creativity.  Matthew Crawford (Shop Class as Soulcraft: An Inquiry into the Value of Work) is one of many non-religious writers who are reminding us of how essential it is that we work with our hands, that we manipulate the stuff of this world—dirt, paint, machines, clay, musical notes, etc.—to make something new or better. 

To do so is to ground ourselves in an ontological reality—that we are  people with bodies who are called to interact with the tangible universe in creative ways.  It’s a large part of what it means to be a human being made in the image of a creator God.

Grace and peace,

Mark