AI and Our Creative Nature
My Road Goes Ever On
AI and Our Creative Nature speak to the intersection of intelligence and imagination, warning us that unregulated gain might cost us everything.
Last night I dreamed that I was walking down a long road at twilight when I came upon a long line of children at the top of a hill. The odd thing about these children was that they were all draped in black and wearing masks that struck me as weirdly familiar—like Darth Vader’s headgear on Star Wars. The other disturbing factor was that these children had stopped moving and some guy, (or woman) I could not see clearly, was trying to get them to move forward. They were blocking the road, just standing there small and indomitably silent.
To say that I woke up “out of sorts” would be putting it mildly.
In my limited lifespan, the human race has attempted to adjust to so many startling changes that one more sci-fi reality hardly seems worth losing a night’s sleep. But the image of those silent children might haunt me forever.
The human race may be late in considering AI’s influence on our ability to express ourselves in art, but before we find ourselves facing a hilltop of kids wearing masks and unable to speak, it would be best if we are not too late in choosing where we place our next footsteps.
The scary thing about opening a conversation involving artificial intelligence—much less the intersection of art and technology—is that I had to search the term on Google, which uses AI, to answer my question. So basically, I asked AI who it thinks it is.
“Artificial intelligence is the science of making machines that can think like humans.”
“Cogito, ergo sum.” meaning, “I think, therefore I am.” ~Rene René Descartes 1637.
Trying desperately not to slide down the Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole, I only skimmed through a few top quotes, which left me more perplexed than ever. I must admit that I laughed and then lingered on one quote in particular:
“Before we work on artificial intelligence, why don’t we do something about natural stupidity?” ~Steve Polyak
There lies a huge issue—we humans take ourselves into every new adventure. So then, I asked Google what art is and received a very human-biased answer:
“Art is the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination.”
The definition of art hasn’t caught up with the newest AI-generated art. Yet.
Personally, I think that AI tools offer a great deal to improve and supplement our creative endeavors. It took nearly ten Google searches to fact-check and correct a recent essay. Spell check assists me no end—I can finally lay my 6th-grade spelling tests’ Fs to rest. Grammarly helps me edit authors’ papers with an amazing level of accuracy. All good and well.
Then there is the downside—the termination of creativity. I find myself overriding the squiggly red lines that warn me of English incorrectness, when in fact, my whole literary endeavor involves a new way of expressing myself—something the program is not prepared to deal with. Not every writing effort should read like a term paper!
So, I am back to those kids again, wondering why they are on a hilltop and why on Earth I am dreaming about them. Without a doubt, dreams connect to my creative nature. They are an aspect of the “otherness” of my human existence that I cannot define and don’t particularly want to corral. My spiritual faith in God and my personal relationships that transcend death in their “aliveness” in a realm that I can’t possibly explain to anyone unwilling to believe are all aspects of the “moreness” of human experience that AI can’t fathom.
If I substituted my awkward human creative nature for a more streamlined, “perfected” version of a story, a painting, or any other creative endeavor, I would lose the glory of that unseen, unquantifiable otherness which is a definite part of my literary creations. When I joke with my kids that the characters in my latest book have taken over and left me behind, they smile. They know that I had a plotline worked out but, inevitably, the novel will not develop according to my plan because some creative “otherness” asserts itself in the process and shapes something wildly beyond my expectations.
In the end, I don’t think a discussion focused solely on AI does us much good. I suspect it will be in removing the masks and seeing the faces of those children that matters. If we hide ourselves and each other in AI masks—be they wonderful or terrifying—we might find ourselves at the top of a hill unable to move. There might be a view, but we won’t see it. There might be a road, but we won’t travel down it. We might be human, but we won’t be alive.
If we don’t value our humanity here and now—AI has nothing to offer us.
A. K. Frailey is the author of 21 books, a teacher for 35 years, and a homeschooling mother.
Make the most of life’s journey.
For novels, short stories, poems, and non-fiction inspirational books, check out
https://www.amazon.com/author/akfrailey
“I loved reading Ann’s wise, hope-giving thoughts about life and love. Truly, life is the art of overcoming obstacles and becoming stronger to live a fuller life. Beautiful work!” ~Ksenia
“Aram was an imaginative, creative work…action-packed. Keen insight by the author…filled each page with compassion.” ~Linda
“With a spectacular story of Justine Santana, a human-Android hybrid, this book also reveals some exciting insights about the future—Robots and Artificial Intelligence.” ~Adiba
“Many of the stories are very moving. Some are humorous. And they are all well written.”~McEvoy
For a complete list of books by A. K. Frailey, book trailers, and reviews, check out
A. K. Frailey’s Books Page
For translated versions of A. K. Frailey’s Books, check out
A. K. Frailey’s Translated Books
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