Who Owns It When AI Creates?
A Creator’s Dilemma in the Age of Algorithmic Artistry
Creation is an art a process that gives enlightenment to the creator and the consumer alike.
When machines were invented and started assisting humans in the creative process, many traditional artists began arguing that it was hurting creativity.
An illustrator who hand-draws an image often gives a derisive treatment that silent look of judgment to someone who creates digital illustrations using Photoshop. Similarly, a sketch artist may look down upon someone designing on Canva, and the Photoshop user might do the same to a Canva user. It’s a cycle like an unwritten hierarchy where every tool brings its own echelon of creators, some considered more "authentic" than others.
This process isn’t new. Human civilization has sporadically seen this play out every time tools change. But now, something prodigious has entered the room AI.
And here, the dynamic is no longer person vs person it's person vs machine.
Earlier, we gave a side glance or reticent smile to someone who used a shortcut. But today, the shortcut isn’t a person it's a system that can create, imagine, improvise, and sometimes even outperform humans. This is no longer about tools; it’s a shift in the very dogma of creation.
Yes, it’s a long topic. And we must discuss it because discussion, debate, and dissent are what make us human. But today, I’m going to talk about a core concern in this entire creative evolution Ownership.
Who will own it when AI creates?
It’s easy to feel astounded by what AI can do the imagery, the voiceovers, the code, the poetry. But that amazement often turns into indignation when you realize the sources were scraped without permission.
In a world where a single prompt can elicit a logo, a business plan, or even an entire script, the line between assistance and appropriation becomes dangerously thin.
In fact, this very question has already reached courtrooms.
Take the case of Zarya of the Dawn, a graphic novel created by Kristina Kashtanova using MidJourney. It received copyright at first but was later revoked, with the authorities saying it lacked human authorship. Kashtanova argued she wrote the story and curated the AI-generated images, but the court still said, Not enough human creativity.
And they were not wrong.
Because when AI doesn’t just assist your imagination but replaces the need to imagine, you become an acolyte, not an artist.
This is where the idea of ownership becomes entangled with identity.
If I train an AI on the works of 10,000 painters and it generates a painting, is it mine? Or just an obfuscated, algorithmic remix?
We’ve entered an era where the creator might be rendered obsolete, not because they lack skill, but because they’re outpaced by something they can’t decipher.
It’s a strange, almost ghoulish feeling watching machines imitate what once came from our soul.
But I won’t end on a melancholy note.
Let’s not be so infatuated by tools that we forget the intrinsic value of human creation.
Because, in the end, what separates us from the machines isn’t just what we create, but why we create.
And maybe that’s something no algorithm can ever replicate.
What I am reading this week
I've been reading Mood Machine by Liz Pelly, a compelling exploration of Spotify's evolution and its profound impact on the music industry. Pelly's investigative work sheds light on how Spotify's algorithm-driven playlists and business model have reshaped music consumption, often at the expense of artists' earnings and creative autonomy.
The book talks about the rise of low-cost stock music in popular playlists and the emergence of new payola-like practices, revealing the complexities of the streaming economy. Through extensive interviews with industry insiders and musicians, Pelly provides a nuanced critique of the platform's influence on our listening habits and the broader cultural implications.
I may not be able to continue posting 3 AI updates every week with this letter because I am planning to join a full-time job, and you know how hectic things can get there, but I will continue to write this letter once a week.
This letter, as always, was handcrafted with love. But because of my travel, I had to lean on AI to help me with structure and grammar this time.
Until next time,
Ashutosh