The Psychology of Authorship in the Age of AI
What does it mean to be a "creator" when machines can create?
The rise of artificial intelligence (AI) has fundamentally reshaped the landscape of creation. From paintings to novels, symphonies to screenplays, AI tools now generate works once exclusively the domain of human creativity. This seismic shift provokes an essential question: what does it mean to be a "creator" when machines can effortlessly create?
The Romantic Myth of the Artist
Historically, Western culture has idolized the artist as a "tortured genius," whose work emerges from profound suffering, emotional depth, and intense personal struggle. This Romantic ideal, championed by figures such as Lord Byron, Vincent Van Gogh, and Sylvia Plath, frames art as deeply intertwined with authentic human experience and identity (Hoffmann & Whyte, 2011).
AI-generated creativity fundamentally disrupts this narrative. An algorithm composes symphonies or generates paintings without emotional trauma, existential anguish, or personal memory. It feels nothing, intends nothing, and merely operates through mathematical patterns and datasets. Thus arises the provocative challenge: If art has historically required intent and emotional authenticity, can the output of an emotionless AI truly be classified as art?
The Ego in Authorship
The need to claim authorship is deeply rooted in human psychology. Russell Belk’s (1988) notion of the "extended self" argues that possessions and by extension, creations serve as vital expressions of identity. Human beings often equate the value of creation with personal worth; their works become extensions of their self-concept and social identity.
AI complicates this psychological impulse. When an individual crafts a prompt and receives from AI a masterpiece of prose or imagery, authorship becomes ambiguous. The human’s ego struggles to accept credit for a creation they did not directly produce. Yet, without their input, the AI would produce nothing. This ambiguity destabilizes traditional understandings of authorship, leaving creators wrestling with the disquieting question: if I initiate but do not directly create, am I truly an author?
Conceptual art offers a relevant parallel. Artists like Sol LeWitt argued that the idea or instructions were as valuable as their execution (Morgan, 2006). Today, an AI prompt might similarly be seen as a new form of conceptual authorship, extending the creator’s identity into the algorithmic outputs.
Mimicry vs. Inspiration: How the Brain Actually Learns
The human brain learns primarily through imitation. Social Learning Theory, developed by Albert Bandura (1977), emphasizes observational learning, demonstrating how individuals internalize behavior, ideas, and techniques by watching others. Neuroscientifically, mirror neurons facilitate imitation and empathy, allowing humans to absorb and adapt existing ideas into new, creative expressions (Rizzolatti & Craighero, 2004).
AI employs a similar yet distinct method of learning. Through machine learning, AI analyses vast data sets, identifying patterns and mimicking styles to produce new creations. AI’s "learning" is essentially scaled-up imitation, no different, in principle, from human artistic mimicry, yet performed at an unprecedented scale and speed.
However, society applies a double standard: imitation by humans is praised as learning or inspiration, while AI-generated mimicry often faces scepticism, accused of lacking genuine innovation. The key difference may be that human mimicry is infused with embodied experiences and individual contexts, whereas AI’s mimicry occurs in an emotional vacuum, entirely devoid of subjective intent.
Authenticity in the Age of Simulation
Philosopher Jean Baudrillard’s "Simulacra and Simulation" (1994) proposed that contemporary society is defined by simulations, copies without originals. Baudrillard argued that we exist in a hyperreal world where authenticity becomes meaningless, obscured by perpetual replication.
AI-generated art amplifies this condition. While AI creations simulate human artistic styles, there is no "original" human intent behind their creation. This exacerbates anxieties about authenticity: humans still yearn for original, genuine creation, even as they are increasingly surrounded by convincing simulacra.
Walter Benjamin’s concept of the "aura" (1935) similarly critiques mass reproduction, asserting that replicated works lose their unique presence. AI pushes Benjamin's critique to extremes, producing artworks infinitely reproducible yet entirely original each time, simultaneously unique and devoid of traditional aura. Consequently, AI forces a re-evaluation of authenticity itself: does a work’s authenticity arise from its uniqueness, human intention, or something more intangible?
Emotional Labour & the "Soul" in Art
There is a widespread belief that true art demands emotional labour; struggle, vulnerability, and lived experience. Art, under this view, is valuable precisely because it channels the complexity of human experience into creative expression (Hochschild, 1983).
AI-generated art, by contrast, involves no emotional labour. Algorithms do not suffer or experience vulnerability; they merely calculate and execute. Consequently, critics argue AI creations are superficial decorations, devoid of deeper meaning or soul.
However, this perspective might romanticize unnecessary suffering. Historically, emotional torment was considered necessary for authentic art, yet this assumption reflects cultural biases rather than inherent artistic truths. AI thus challenges us to reconsider whether the value of art truly depends on emotional distress, or whether art’s essence might be found in aesthetic pleasure, intellectual stimulation, or novel conceptual combinations even without a human "soul."
The Creator’s Crisis: Identity, Value, and Survival
The emergence of AI has catalysed an existential crisis among artists and creators. This crisis extends beyond economics, although financial insecurity is significant and penetrates deeper into questions of identity, worth, and purpose. Artists grapple with the haunting fear that AI’s effortless creativity might render human creativity obsolete, diminishing their roles as meaning-makers and cultural commentators.
Yet, AI might equally empower artists, serving as a sophisticated tool that enhances human creativity rather than replacing it entirely. Many creators already collaborate with AI, producing hybrid works that blend human intuition and algorithmic precision.
Ultimately, the backlash against AI might stem less from fear of technological replacement than from a deeper fear: that human uniqueness itself might be less special than previously imagined. If creativity is not exclusively human, humans must redefine their identities, embracing new forms of creation and co-creation that redefine what it means to be truly human.
Simply Put
The psychological crisis posed by AI’s artistic capacities challenges deeply-held notions of identity, authenticity, and creativity. As society adapts, we are compelled to re-evaluate what art means not only culturally or legally, but psychologically. AI does not erase human creativity; it reframes it, pushing creators to confront and perhaps transcend the boundaries that have long defined what it means to be human.
References
Bandura, A. (1977). Social Learning Theory. Prentice Hall.
Baudrillard, J. (1994). Simulacra and Simulation. University of Michigan Press.
Belk, R. W. (1988). Possessions and the Extended Self. Journal of Consumer Research, 15(2), 139–168.
Benjamin, W. (1935). The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. Penguin Books.
Morgan, R. C. (2006). Conceptual Art: An American Perspective. McFarland & Company.
