AI Shows Us Who We Are

In my article, “Jesus, Art, and AI”, on artificial intelligence and its impact on artists depicting Jesus, I included some warnings about the unintentional consequences of embracing AI too wholeheartedly. But in all the hullabaloo over AI, I’m also seeing a lack of self-awareness and a bit of selective history.

Let me explain.

I’m not only a creator of artistic work and intellectual property, but I’m also a consumer. I write articles, but I also read them. I enjoy making music, and I enjoy listening to music. Which complicates my personal views on the adoption of AI tech.

Most of the AI tools I know of were created to help other creators. When I record vocal harmonies in my music, I use software that uses AI to analyze the sonic properties of a piece of audio. It allows me to tweak one note to change the sound of a chord. When I’m ready to release an album, I use an AI-assisted mastering tool to make sure the volume levels are consistent from track to track. And when I’m playing through a live DJ set, my software uses AI algorithms not only to suggest compatible songs, but also to help me isolate stems in the music so I can add or remove vocals, the bassline, or the drum track of any particular song in real time.

These tools are part of a grand tradition in our culture of repurposing existing art to create new artistic works. This is how hip-hop music was created in the 1970s—by taking existing vinyl records and using two turntables to loop the beat breaks in popular disco songs, which is why “Rappers Delight” by the Sugar Hill Gang sounds like “Good Times” by Chic. Turntablism in the ’70s and ’80s begat sampling in the ’80s and ’90s, which begat remix culture in the ’90s and 2000s.

To properly contextualize the advent of artificial intelligence in creative fields like music, literature, and filmmaking, we must see it not as a singular extinction-level event, but rather as the latest iteration in a series of tools trending toward collapsing the barrier between consumers and producers.

If we as Christians are to make a positive difference in our society, we must hold onto humility while we advocate for change.

When we decry the damage that AI might do to the art forms we love, what we’re really doing is railing against the market forces that enable us to both create and consume so cheaply. These forces incentivize “fast fashion” brands that rip off textile workers and designers. They create streaming platforms with millions of songs, shows, and movies on demand for low monthly fees that don’t pay much in residuals to creators. We have been conditioned to expect a lot for a little, but we cannot support creatives with livable wages if we continue to patronize systems that exploit their labor.

AI didn’t create this dynamic; it just made it harder to ignore.

I’m part of the problem here. I subscribe to streaming music and television services. I shop on Amazon. Heck, I write articles for a living but still get annoyed when I click a link that’s hidden behind a paywall that I don’t want to pay for. I have the sickness I’m describing.

British screenwriter Charlie Brooker created a Netflix show in 2015 that addressed this concept of acknowledging how our technology shows us what we’ve become, and called it, appropriately, Black Mirror. I like to think he was inspired by James’s letter when he describes not living up to the truth we’ve learned as looking at a mirror and forgetting its reflection (James 1:23-24).

If we as Christians are to make a positive difference in our society, we must hold onto humility while we advocate for change. We must remember that the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:25). We must recognize that the problems lie not only in others but also in ourselves.

In so doing, we avail ourselves of divine intelligence—which is anything but artificial.