The Soul of Art AI Cannot Replicate

The recent explosion of generative AI systems into the art world has ignited both excitement and significant controversy. A notable example is the "Ghiblification" trend, where users employed tools like ChatGPT to generate images mimicking the iconic style of Studio Ghibli. This phenomenon, embraced by many from OpenAI's Sam Altman to India's Prime Minister Narendra Modi and countless users, also drew sharp criticism. Artists and users alike raised concerns about the theft of Hayao Miyazaki's distinct style and the privacy implications of users submitting their personal images to these systems.

Tokyo, Japan—The Robot statue on an open garden space at Ghibli museum. Image Source: Shutterstock

While much of the policy critique surrounding AI-generated art centers on tangible losses like copyright infringement and the legal basis of ownership, the Studio Ghibli example highlights a deeper, more human loss. Critics recalled a 2016 video of Miyazaki reacting to an AI demonstration, where he stated, "I strongly feel this is an insult to life itself." This sentiment underscores that beyond monetary and legal concerns, the AI-fication of art touches upon a fundamental human element that demands consideration in regulatory discussions.

The United States Copyright Office, in its report Part 3 of “Copyright and Artificial Intelligence,” acknowledged this, noting the music industry's concern that AI-generated content competes "unfairly with genuine human artistry." This raises the question: what constitutes "genuine" human artistry, and does AI-generated art fall short of capturing this quality?

Unpacking the Human Cost of AI Art

To understand the human loss in art, let's consider the case of Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. Critics emphasize respecting Miyazaki's unique cultural significance and his strong opposition to AI art. His work is deeply infused with Japan’s post-war pacifism, a nuance obscured by ChatGPT’s cheerful recreations. Furthermore, AI is criticized for homogenizing the distinct facial representations characteristic of Studio Ghibli, creating a palatable but less expressive template.

This critique can be broken down:

• Absence of Human Intent and Connection: AI art, by its nature, lacks singular human intent and connection. AI learns by amalgamating various human intents from vast datasets. This contrasts sharply with traditions like Studio Ghibli's, where art is informed by Miyazaki’s specific intent to renew life. As designer Labonie Roy notes, Ghibli art carries meaning in every choice of line and color, reflecting post-war hopes and cultural legends—elements AI cannot truly "read." Similarly, Banksy's "post-esthetic" art derives value from its commentary on "ugly" realities, often displayed in strategically meaningful locations, a connection AI struggles to replicate.
• The Pursuit of Flawed Perfection: AI often aims for an idealized version, missing the value of imperfection inherent in human nature. Technology can create a false sense of perfection, like image filters or AI completing unfinished artworks (e.g., The Beatles' 'Now and Then,' criticized by some). In Ghibli-style AI images, faces often appear functionally identical, a result of OpenAI’s alleged use of "broader studio styles" rather than capturing the unique artistry in characters like Haru or Chihiro, whose expressions are animated differently. AI treats these subtle, emotive differences as imperfections to be smoothed over.
• The Disappearance of Human Effort: AI art generation obscures the human effort involved in creation, impacting artists' labor and ownership. Beyond legal battles over copyrighted training data, there's a concern that audiences may lose appreciation for art as a human process. Critics highlight the "painstaking" effort of Studio Ghibli artists compared to the instantaneity of AI. The "blood, sweat and tears" of human toil distinguishes 'real' art from AI-generated content.

Given this high human cost, how should we approach regulation? Is there a concept of "human copyright" that extends beyond traditional frameworks?

Beyond Copyright: Moral Rights and the Future of Art Regulation

While livelihood and ownership are crucial, focusing solely on them limits the policy scope to economic exclusions and Big Tech dealings. The critique of AI art is more nuanced, pointing to the undermining of intrinsically human intent, nature, and effort. The US Copyright Office suggests that making AI services compete with "genuine" human artistry corrodes the creative ecosystem, moving attribution beyond legal copyright to recognize the artist's humanity.

In the Ghibli controversy, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman cited fair use. However, this defense doesn't address the moral injury to the artist. Moral rights, part of copyright law, acknowledge the "presumed intimate" bond between creator and creation. Artists like Miyazaki, who view their work as an extension of their personhood, might argue that AI infringes upon this personal relationship. Miyazaki's work holds cultural significance, and AI's imitation can be seen as a "betrayal of what makes art meaningful— the human touch."

Moral rights allow us to consider moral injuries to human agency. While fair use addresses legality, the protection of creativity and originality stems from the essentiality of human agency. This jurisprudential understanding is key to addressing the loss of human nuance.

Key questions for intellectual property law arise: Can AI claim moral rights? Should it? Can AI be recognized as equal to human creative endeavor?

Preserving Humanity in Art: A Call to Action

The debate over AI in art transcends legal ownership and artists' livelihoods. Artists and critics advocate for protecting the intangible intent, value, and effort inherent in human creation. This necessitates reimagining AI-art regulation to include language that addresses not only fair use and legal entitlement but also the fundamental need to protect artistic work, preserve human agency, and mitigate the loss of our human capacity. As artist Labonie Roy feels, “there can be no art without…personhood.” The policy ambit must broaden to address whether artistic endeavors themselves belong to human beings, not just whether opportunities and credit do.