There's No "AI" in Art

I recently came across a passionate post on Instagram by jazz saxophonist Patrick Bartley calling for a boycott of AI technologies, in response to AI posts my brother Kevin made on JazzMemes. Before diving in, I want to acknowledge that Patrick is someone I consider a friend and have tremendous respect for, and I look forward to discussing these ideas with him personally. His willingness to think deeply about ideas, take principled stances, and defend those positions even when uncomfortable or confrontational demonstrates a courage we need more of today.

His concerns echo those of many artists grappling with rapid technological change, and while I see things differently, I believe his perspective deserves thoughtful engagement rather than dismissal. Art thrives on dialogue, after all.

What Is Art, Really?

Before we can meaningfully discuss AI's impact on art, we should clarify what art actually is. In my view, art is the recreation of reality based on the artist's choices and value judgments. It's a selective representation that communicates what the artist finds significant or meaningful about reality.

A crucial purpose of art is to allow artists to make their values explicit and concrete, whether through painting, sculpture, music, or other forms. The process of creation is important primarily to the extent that it enables artists to make the necessary choices that manifest their unique values and perspective in tangible form. Art gives physical expression to our deepest metaphysical values, making the abstract concrete in a way that can be experienced by others.

In a way, I fundamentally agree with Patrick's emphasis on the journey. The choices that artists make, what to include, what to omit, what to emphasize, what to downplay, are indeed the essence of the creative journey he's describing. However, it's worth noting that many, if not most, of these crucial artistic choices aren't "observable" as Patrick suggests, but happen invisibly within the artist's mind. The deliberation, the weighing of alternatives, the moments of inspiration, these internal processes often leave no visible trace in the final work, yet they're essential to what makes art meaningful.

Patrick doesn't explicitly define art, but we can infer his understanding from several statements. He writes that "art is not just the final product, it is the observable journey that it took to produce that art." He also states that "art is not about perfection because life isn't perfect," "art isn't about abundance because life is finite," "art isn't about accessibility because you must work hard for things that matter," and "art is not about realism because reality is real enough."

Here's where an interesting contradiction emerges: Patrick fears AI will lead people to care only about the end result, yet by his own definition, such an approach wouldn't count as "art" at all. If true art includes the journey of choices, then AI-generated images without human guidance wouldn't qualify as art under his criteria.

But what if we view AI differently? What if AI tools could become part of the creative toolkit that allows artists to make choices they wouldn't otherwise be able to make? Rather than replacing the artist's judgment, AI could expand the range of possibilities for expressing those judgments. The fundamental creative act, the human choice of what to create and why, remains intact.

Understanding AI's Creative Process

There's a common misconception that AI simply regurgitates or steals existing work. This fundamentally misunderstands how these systems function. Modern AI doesn't store and retrieve specific examples from its training data. Instead, it learns patterns and relationships, developing a statistical understanding of how elements relate to each other. (See this video for detailed understanding meant for a general audience.)

When an AI generates content, it's producing probabilistic outputs based on learned patterns, not copying content. The process is more akin to how humans learn by studying predecessors and developing their own approach than to theft or plagiarism.

Consider that all artists learn from those who came before them. We study techniques, absorb influences, and transform them through our unique vision. As jazz musicians, this process is part of the culture of how we are taught to learn improvisation by studying and copying from the masters. AI does something analogous, though through different mechanisms.

The False Dichotomy

Patrick's post makes a stark distinction: either we create, or we lose our capacity to care. "If we no longer need to create, we no longer need to care. If we don't care, we die." But this framing misses something fundamental about what AI actually offers.

Far from eliminating human creativity, AI promises an unprecedented flourishing of creative expression. The real transformative potential lies in making creation more accessible, not less necessary. Consider a few examples:

• A person with a brilliant app idea but no coding skills can now bring that vision to life with AI assistance
• A musician can experiment with arrangements and instrumentations they couldn't perform themselves, might not be able to afford, or even hear what a famous singer would sound like on their song (top pop artists are already using this...)
• A writer with dyslexia can focus on storytelling rather than struggling with spelling and grammar
• A visual artist can rapidly prototype concepts that would take days to sketch by hand

Rather than reducing our need to create, AI accelerates the creative process, allowing people to explore more ideas, attempt more projects, and master more skills than a single human lifetime previously permitted. It removes the decades-long barriers to entry that have kept many potential creators from ever starting.

Think about how many brilliant creative ideas have never been realized because someone lacked the time to learn all the necessary skills or couldn't afford specialized training. AI doesn't threaten the human drive to create, it democratizes the ability to turn creative impulses into reality.

Moreover, many people deeply appreciate and care about art without creating it themselves. Art appreciation and art creation are distinct forms of engagement, both valuable. The capacity to care isn't solely tied to our ability to create.

Tools vs. Replacement

Throughout history, new technologies have been met with similar concerns. Photography was initially rejected by traditional artists as mechanical reproduction rather than art (see "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction"). From our modern perspective, we can see how photography not only developed into its own art form, but also allowed for new art forms like film.

What if we view AI not as a replacement for human creativity but as a new set of tools that can be incorporated into the human creative journey? Like any tool, from paintbrushes to Photoshop, their value depends on how we choose to use them.

That said, there is a vital discussion we need to have about intellectual property rights in relation to AI. Artists should be credited and compensated for generated content that is trained on their creations. This legitimate concern is currently being overshadowed by all-or-nothing positions on both sides of the debate. We need thoughtful frameworks that protect artists' rights while allowing technological innovation to flourish, not blanket boycotts or unrestricted exploitation.

The Selective Boycott Paradox

To be clear, Patrick himself appears consistent in his call to fully boycott AI. But many others who advocate for boycotts make artificial distinctions between different applications of AI technology, embracing it for "practical" work while rejecting it for "creative" work.

This reveals a crucial misunderstanding: we need to distinguish between "creative work" and "art." These are not the same thing. All productive work is creative because it requires thinking, judgment, and problem-solving. Creating "art" is a specific kind of productive work, but it doesn't have a monopoly on creativity or human value.

When we accept AI replacing jobs in fields like data analysis, customer service, or administrative work while drawing a line at artistic creation, we implicitly devalue the creative thinking, judgment, and problem-solving that goes into those "non-artistic" roles. We suggest that some forms of human labor are more worthy of protection than others.

This distinction reveals more about our cultural hierarchies than about the nature of AI itself. A consistent ethical position would consider the impact of AI across all domains of human work, not just those traditionally labeled as "artistic."

The Life-Affirming Potential of AI

The most challenging aspect of the #BoycottAI position is its potential to limit technologies that enhance and save human lives. Consider the advances in medical science powered by AI:

• AI systems that detect cancers earlier and more accurately than human doctors can alone
• Personalized treatment plans based on a patient's unique genetic makeup
• Accelerated drug discovery addressing previously untreatable conditions
• Healthcare access for underserved populations through AI-powered tools

These aren't abstract technological achievements, they represent real people who will live rather than die, who will thrive rather than suffer. Can we truly label AI as anti-life when it has such profound life-affirming potential?

The Paradox of Artistic Values

When Patrick writes, "Art is not about realism because reality is real enough," he inadvertently reveals a key insight that undermines his own argument. This statement creates a contradiction: if art isn't about realism but about selective recreation based on values, then AI (which currently operates on statistical patterns without value judgments) cannot truly create art by Patrick's own implicit definition.

Consider music specifically: Musicians worry about AI replacing their recorded music, but the truth is that most people already value recorded music at nearly zero cost (through streaming services that pay fractions of pennies per play). What people continue to value, and what cannot be eliminated, is the live element of connecting with other humans through music. The irreplaceable aspects of art are precisely those that AI cannot replicate: the shared experience, the human connection, the knowledge that another person crafted this expression specifically to communicate with you.

But here's where we arrive at a profound paradox: in a post-AI world, where machines and algorithms handle much of the labor humans currently perform, art may well become the primary domain of human activity. As AI handles more of our routine work, we may find ourselves with unprecedented time and energy for creative expression. Art may transform from a specialized profession to a universal human pursuit.

We've seen this pattern before. The Industrial Revolution freed countless people from 16-hour days of agricultural labor, allowing many to pursue creative vocations that simply couldn't have existed in a pre-industrial economy. Professions like "musician," "author," or "painter" as full-time occupations were rare luxuries before mechanization created the economic surplus and leisure time necessary for creative pursuits to flourish. What if the AI revolution similarly expands human creative potential by freeing us from routine cognitive labor?

The real threat to some artists may not be replacement but democratization. What's at stake isn't art itself but the special status that comes with being an "artist" in a world where not everyone has the time, training, or resources to create. This democratization challenges the ego gratification of belonging to a creative elite, of being elevated in the eyes of peers for possessing rare talents or dedication.

This reveals an uncomfortable question: Are some people currently making art for the art itself, or for the social status and identity that comes with being an "artist"? In a world where everyone can be an artist, where creative expression becomes as common as conversation, what happens to those whose identity is built around the exclusivity of their creative pursuit?

The most passionate opposition to AI in artistic domains might not be about protecting art at all, but about protecting the special status that comes from being part of a creative minority. True art lovers should welcome a world where more people can express themselves creatively, not fear it.

Finding a Balanced Path Forward

Instead of a blanket boycott, perhaps we need a more nuanced approach that:

1. Advocates for fair compensation models for artists whose work contributes to AI training
2. Distinguishes between different applications of AI based on their impacts
3. Explores how AI tools can enhance rather than replace human creativity
4. Ensures technologies that save lives can continue to develop

An Invitation to Dialogue

Rather than seeing AI as a threat to human creativity, what if we viewed it as an opportunity to more clearly define what makes human art uniquely valuable? What if the rise of AI helps us articulate more precisely why the human creative journey matters?

I believe artists like Patrick will continue to create work of profound human value regardless of technological change. Art has survived and thrived through countless technological revolutions, from the printing press to photography to digital tools, because the human creative impulse finds new expressions in each era.

Let's move beyond boycotts toward a more thoughtful engagement with how these technologies can serve human flourishing and creative expression in all its forms. The answer isn't to turn back the clock but to shape the future in ways that honor what makes human creativity precious.

What do you think? I'd love to hear your perspective in the comments here.

Chase Maddox