In 2026, the detrimental effects of generative AI are evident, with its outputs derisively labeled as “slop” by internet users. Executives from AI firms appear on stage, exuding a supervillain-like demeanor as they boast about their technologies’ potential to displace a significant amount of labor. The operational demands of generative AI come at a high cost, consuming vast amounts of water to sustain its sprawling data centers. Furthermore, chatbots have been reported to trigger troubling psychological episodes in users, particularly adolescents, while simultaneously dulling cognitive abilities.
Who could have foreseen this troubling trend? The answer lies within the artistic community.
As an artist, I first encountered unauthorized imitations of my work in 2022. These reproductions were not exact copies but rather distorted versions, reminiscent of a lackluster teenage artist’s attempts, reducing my unique style to mere imitation. It soon became clear why this was happening: AI image generators had harvested my entire portfolio from the internet and repurposed it for their algorithms. This was not an isolated incident; countless artists experienced the same appropriation, with billions of images taken without attribution, remuneration, or consent. I viewed this as perhaps the most significant art theft in history.
The technology executives were fully aware of their actions. In 2023, venture capitalist Marc Andreessen claimed that enforcing copyright laws could potentially “doom” the entire industry. As is typical for tech companies, they operated with a “move fast and break things” mentality, often at the expense of individuals.
Even more concerning was the apparent lack of resistance from the public. At the 2023 Perugia journalism festival, a gathering of industry leaders, I witnessed numerous proponents of the tech sector assert that newsrooms needed to adopt AI tools or risk obsolescence, likening them to outdated horse and buggy manufacturers. During informal conversations on the hills of Perugia, I overheard these individuals discussing how AI would inevitably replace writers, a topic they refrained from addressing in their formal presentations. Although I was scheduled to speak about utilizing my art to document conflict zones, I redirected my focus to the threats posed by generative AI to creative professionals. I articulated how these companies disparage their critics as retrogressive while promoting a narrative of inevitability to coerce compliance. I asserted that human actions are not predetermined but are influenced by political, financial, and social factors, and emphasized the importance of advocacy in the absence of wealth and power.
In an effort to counteract the tech industry’s narrative, journalist Marisa Mazria Katz and I initiated an open letter advocating for the exclusion of AI-generated images from newsrooms. This call to action garnered thousands of signatures from supporters worldwide. Other artists took more assertive measures; in January 2023, three illustrators filed a lawsuit against prominent image-generating companies Midjourney and Stability AI. Sarah Andersen, Kelly McKernan, and Karla Ortiz, each having witnessed the proliferation of unauthorized reproductions of their work, claimed that the companies had “violated the rights of millions of artists.” This legal battle remains ongoing and contested.
Not only were creators witnessing their work being appropriated, but it was also being exploited by some of the wealthiest individuals, who displayed open disregard for the consequences.
In 2024, Mira Murati, the chief technology officer of OpenAI, suggested in an interview that the creative jobs impacted by her company’s products perhaps “shouldn’t have existed in the first place.”
This assault on artistic integrity reveals the underlying anti-humanist philosophy of the tech elite, a group that distances itself from the nuanced experiences of human interaction, which encompass both joys and frustrations. The learning process for creating art is similarly fraught with challenges. Friction, whether felt in the act of writing or in intimate moments, is foundational to human pleasure.
Three years have passed since Marisa and I issued our open letter, and the impact of AI has ravaged the already vulnerable illustration sector. Numerous colleagues find themselves unemployed, and the entry-level opportunities that once provided aspiring artists with essential training have virtually disappeared. This trend is echoed across multiple creative fields. Digital replicas trained on our appropriated works have taken our place. While the quality of such output may be lacking, this is of little concern to the industry. Generative AI serves as a mechanism to discipline and ultimately replace human labor, with audiences expected to adapt to this new norm, all under the guise of progress.
When advocates of technology seek to vilify opposition, they often reference the Luddites, portraying them as misguided individuals who destructively resisted machinery they couldn’t comprehend. However, history tells a different story. In Brian Merchant’s insightful book, “Blood in the Machine,” the Luddites are depicted as skilled craftsmen defending their livelihoods against exploitative textile mills that relied on child labor. Lacking the right to unionize, they resorted to machine destruction as a form of protest. Their struggle did not falter due to an inevitable progression but was met with overwhelming force, resulting in executions or transportation to penal colonies.
Artists today are similarly engaged in a struggle for their livelihoods. If we remain too fragmented to succeed, the repercussions will resonate throughout society. While the initial theft of creative work may have started with illustrators like myself, it has expanded to encompass a wide array of sectors. This includes the financial resources squandered by these companies, the environmental impact of their operations, the depletion of vital resources for their technology, and the broader implications for culture, education, mental health, and our imagination. In exchange for the intricate tapestry of human and ecological existence, the tech elite can only offer us a dystopian reality. Their envisioned future is one that many may find hard to accept.
