
Who Cares If It's AI?
Okay, I have to get this off my chest.
Every time I open social media lately, somebody's furious about AI. Musicians are mad that AI songs are getting streams. Authors are mad about books written with AI. Actors and filmmakers are saying AI movies and TV are going to put them out of work. And the minute somebody finds out a song or a story had AI involved, that's all anybody wants to talk about. Not whether it was good. Just that a computer touched it.
I get it, I really do. New technology has always shaken up industries and made people nervous about their jobs, and this one hits closer to home because it's walking right into the stuff we always thought only humans could do. Imagination. Art. Telling a story.
But I think we're missing the more interesting question. If somebody makes something wonderful with AI, why does the tool automatically make it worth less? If a song gets you choked up, or a book keeps you up until 2am, or a movie sticks with you for a week, does finding out AI was involved suddenly cancel all that out?
So here's my question. Who cares if it's AI?
Now, I'm not saying ignore copyright, or pay, or jobs, or the ethics of all this. Those are real issues and we need to deal with them. What I'm pushing back on is this idea that anything made with AI is fake, or cheap, or doesn't deserve an audience, just because of how it was made.
I think that idea gets both history and creativity wrong.
We Cheer for AI Everywhere Else
Here's what bugs me. We're wildly inconsistent about this.
Look at medicine. Researchers are using AI to dig through mountains of biological data, spot patterns people miss, speed up drug discovery and catch certain diseases earlier.
Now picture AI helping scientists cure a disease nobody's ever been able to cure. Is anybody going to be outraged that a computer did a lot of the heavy lifting? Are patients going to turn down the treatment? Of course not. We'll throw a parade.
Same thing with cars. Self-driving systems still have a long way to go on safety and regulation, no argument there. But say they get to the point where they're clearly safer than human drivers. Are we going to be angry we don't have to steer anymore? Or are we going to be glad there's less accidents, and that older folks and disabled people can get around on their own?
Pilots have had automation helping them fly for decades. Banks use AI to catch fraud. Engineers use it to design new materials. In all those places we judge the technology by one thing: does it work? Does it make things better?
But use the exact same technology to make a song or a novel or a film, and suddenly it's illegitimate.
Why?
Yes, the stakes are different. A medicine has to be proven safe, a car has to meet tough standards, and art brings its own questions about expression and ownership. I'm not saying writing a song is the same as curing cancer. Obviously it isn't.
What I'm saying is that technology lets people do things they couldn't do before. Sometimes that saves lives. Sometimes it saves time. And sometimes it lets somebody make something beautiful that would never have existed otherwise. All of those count, and all of them should be judged on what they actually deliver.
We've Seen This Movie Before
None of this is new.
Machines changed factories. Tractors changed farming. Computers wiped out or reshaped jobs that had been around forever. A lot of good came from that, but people got hurt too. Workers got displaced, towns took a hit, whole industries had to adapt.
Entertainment's been through the same thing, more than once.
Before records, if you wanted to hear professional music, the musicians had to be in the room. Recording changed all that. One performance could reach millions of people. That shook up how musicians made a living, but it also put music in front of more people than ever before.
Then came synthesizers, drum machines, sampling, home recording software. People said it wasn't real musicianship. One guy with a keyboard could suddenly do what used to take a whole band. And what happened? We got entire new genres out of it.
Film went the same way. Digital editing replaced razor blades and tape. CGI changed visual effects. Digital cameras changed cinematography. Today nobody walks out of a movie upset that half of it was built in a computer. They care whether the movie was good.
And I'll say it plainly, those transitions weren't painless. People lost jobs, businesses closed, and the money didn't always get spread around fairly. But every time, more people got access to tools that used to be out of reach.
So the lesson isn't "embrace everything and don't ask questions." The lesson is that protecting people from the fallout of new technology and rejecting what that technology makes possible are two completely different things. We keep mixing them up.
Having a Vision Isn't the Same as Having the Chops
This is the part I find most exciting. AI can separate the creative idea from the technical skill it used to take to pull it off.
Think about somebody who has a great song in their head. They can hear the melody. They know exactly what they want it to feel like. They've written lyrics that really mean something. But they can't play an instrument, can't read music, and have never set foot in a studio.
Up to now, that person had three choices. Spend years learning, find collaborators, or pay professionals. If none of those were realistic, the song just died in their head.
Now there's another way. They can try different instruments, arrangements, vocal styles, and keep tweaking until what comes out of the speakers matches what they heard in their head.
And say it's great. People love it. It means something to them. Do we really throw it out because the person who made it never picked up a guitar?
That's way too narrow a definition of creativity, if you ask me.
We already accept that creative work is collaborative. A director doesn't run every camera or build every set or write the score. A producer can shape an entire album without playing a note on it. A novelist works with editors who can make a big difference in the final book. Nobody says those people aren't creators.
Now, there's a big difference between someone who spends real time building an original idea and carefully steering how it comes out, and someone who types "write me a hit song" and takes whatever comes back. Those aren't the same thing and I'm not pretending they are. But we ought to be able to tell the difference without condemning everything that had a computer involved.
What matters is whether real originality and judgment went into it. Not whether every piece of it was done by hand.
How Many Great Stories Never Got Told?
Books are a great example.
Somewhere out there is a person sitting on an incredible story. A big sci-fi epic, a political thriller, something deeply personal. Great characters, an original plot, ideas worth talking about.
But they don't know how to write a novel.
And writing a novel is a lot more than having a good idea. You need structure, pacing, dialogue, characters that grow. You have to wrangle tens of thousands of words into something people actually want to keep reading. That takes years to learn. I know, because I've been doing it.
So how many great stories never made it out into the world because the person who had them couldn't get past that part?
Picture a retired scientist with an amazing idea for a science fiction novel. The science is original, the big questions are fascinating, the world they've imagined is unlike anything on the shelf. But they're terrible at dialogue and have no idea how to structure a book.
AI could help them organize it, draft it, tighten up the writing, catch the holes. The scientist still decides what the story is about, who the characters are, where it goes and what it means.
If what comes out is a book people love, what exactly did we lose?
I'm a novelist. I know a good concept doesn't automatically make a good book, and I know AI writing can be flat and formula-driven if nobody with real judgment is steering it. But that's an argument for better judgment, not for throwing out the tool.
I'd rather see a great story told with some help than have it stay locked in somebody's head forever.
Hollywood and the Gatekeepers
Film and TV might be where this matters most, because making them has always taken serious money.
A real production means actors, directors, camera crews, editors, sound, design, gear, locations, distribution. The big ones cost tens or hundreds of millions of dollars. So the power to make them sits mostly with the studios and the people who can write big checks.
And that decides which stories get made.
Studios need projects that can pull in enough of an audience to pay back the investment. Networks and streamers are the same. So a lot of good ideas get turned down not because they're bad, but because nobody's sure they'll make money. A smart sci-fi series is "too expensive for its audience." A historical drama can't get financed. An indie filmmaker has a terrific script and no way on earth to shoot it.
AI could change that math completely. As AI video, digital characters and virtual sets get better, small teams may be able to make things that used to take a studio. Big worlds, complex effects, ambitious stories, for a fraction of the cost.
Does that make directors, actors and editors irrelevant? No. Great filmmaking still takes judgment, emotional smarts and a real feel for story. Technology doesn't hand you that.
But cheaper production opens doors that have been shut to independent creators forever. It also means you don't have to get permission first. Labels, publishers, studios and network execs do useful work, but their calls are driven by money and by guesses about what audiences want, and those guesses are wrong all the time. AI lets more people just make the thing and show it.
And here's the part I think is really important. It could make entertainment worth producing for audiences the big media companies have mostly ignored.
A sci-fi series for a small but passionate crowd. A drama about some overlooked piece of history. Music made for listeners with very specific tastes. Today a lot of that just doesn't pencil out. With AI, it might.
Not every movie has to be a blockbuster. Not every book has to sell a million copies. Not every song has to chart. Something doesn't become less valuable because the audience is small.
Does Art Need a Soul?
This is the objection that hits people hardest. A computer has never been in love, never lost anyone, never been jealous or proud or ashamed. So how can it understand what it's showing us?
Fair point. Human experience matters in art, a lot. A songwriter's life, an actor's emotional range, a novelist's eye for people. That's what gives work real depth.
But that argument falls apart pretty fast when there's a human using AI to say something.
Say a son or daughter writes lyrics about losing their parents. They can't compose or sing, so they use AI to turn those words into a finished song. The grief is real. The memories are theirs. Every bit of the feeling behind it comes from a human being.
Does a synthetic voice singing it make that grief fake?
Or say someone lived through a major historical event and wants to tell that story as a film, and AI is the only way they could ever afford to make it. Did the story stop being human?
I'd say it's the opposite. Technology let a deeply human experience reach people who would never have heard it otherwise.
I'm not saying a synthetic performance is the same as a great human one. A gifted actor or musician brings things that may never be fully replaced, especially live. People can prefer that, and they should.
But storytelling has always been about imagination. Novelists write lives they never lived. Actors play people they'll never be. Songwriters write about breakups that never happened. We accept all that because what matters is whether the work says something real.
AI doesn't have human experience. But it can help a human share theirs.
The Real Concerns
None of this means the industry should just let AI in with no guardrails. If I'm going to make this argument, I have to take the other side seriously.
These AI systems were trained on huge amounts of text, music, images and recordings, and some of that was copyrighted. There are big legal questions still open about whether that was allowed, whether permission should have been asked, and whether creators should get paid.
There's impersonation. Being able to copy someone's voice or face opens the door to fraud and to people cashing in on somebody's identity without asking. Actors and musicians deserve real protection from that.
And there's jobs. If companies can swap out performers, writers, musicians and crews for cheaper synthetic versions, that's going to hurt a lot of people. Some will find new work using these tools. Others are going to find out that skills they spent decades building just aren't worth what they used to be.
You can't wave that away as people being afraid of progress. We need real conversations about licensing, contracts, pay, retraining, and who gets the money when automation makes everything cheaper.
But again, protecting people from being exploited is not the same as blocking a new way to create.
A song that rips off somebody's voice without permission is a problem no matter how good it sounds. A book that copies another author's work is a problem whether AI was involved or not. Go after those directly.
But an original song made with properly licensed tools, or an original novel written with AI help, shouldn't get condemned just because a computer was part of the process. We can protect creative professionals and open the door for new creators at the same time. We're smart enough to do both.
Won't We Drown in Junk?
Another big worry is that AI is going to flood everything with garbage and make it impossible to find anything good.
That's a fair concern. When it gets cheaper to make stuff, people make more stuff. We're going to see tons of forgettable songs, bad novels, knockoff videos and lousy movies.
But we've been here too. Cheap recording gear let thousands of indie musicians put out records. Digital cameras put filmmaking in everybody's hands. Self-publishing let anybody put out a book. Social media let everyone publish everything. Every one of those created a pile of mediocre stuff. And every one of them also let talented people find an audience they never would have reached.
Having good tools doesn't make you talented. AI can make something sound polished, but polish isn't greatness. Originality, emotional intelligence, storytelling and taste are still what separates the great stuff from the rest. If anything, those things get more valuable when everybody can make something that sounds professional.
Yes, finding the good stuff is going to get harder, and we'll need better ways to sort through it. I'll take that problem over a system where great ideas never get made at all.
This Is Bigger Than Entertainment
The truth is the economic side of AI goes way beyond the arts.
We may be heading into a time when machines can do a lot of the thinking and creative work that only people used to do. That could change the whole relationship between work, productivity and income.
In the past, new technology usually created new kinds of jobs even as it wiped out old ones. But there's no promise that happens this time, or that it happens fast enough. This could move faster and hit wider than anything before it.
If we can produce a lot more with a lot less human labor, then we have to talk about who gets the benefit. Higher productivity isn't good for everybody if most of the money goes to a handful of companies while millions of people watch their income shrink.
That deserves serious attention. Education, job training, intellectual property, how people get paid, maybe some new ideas about making sure progress helps everyone.
But that's an economic problem. It's not a reason to say art made with new tools isn't real art. Protecting people's livelihoods and expanding what people can create shouldn't be opposites.
Let the Audience Decide
When you strip it all down, I think it comes back to a few simple questions.
Was it made legally and ethically? Were other people's rights respected? Was it honest about how it was made? Did a real person bring something original to it?
And the big one. Is it any good?
That last question doesn't get nearly enough attention.
We don't judge a movie by the camera it was shot on. We don't measure how much a song means to us by counting the live instruments. We don't throw out a novel because the author used an editor or spellcheck or research software.
We take in the finished work and decide if it was worth our time.
Some people will always prefer things made the traditional way. A live orchestra, a stage play, a painting done by hand, a book written with nothing but a pen. That's completely fine and I respect it.
Other people are going to be fine with AI-assisted work because they care more about the story or the song than how it got made.
There's room for both. The trouble starts when one group decides its way of making things is the only legitimate way for everybody.
Creative culture has never stood still. It changes every time a new instrument or technology or business model comes along. AI is a big one, with real risks and real possibilities. Instead of drawing arbitrary lines around which tools are allowed, let's focus on the standards that matter no matter what tools you use. Originality. Honesty. Quality. Respect for other people.
The Big Opportunity
What gets me excited about AI isn't making the same old stuff cheaper. It's the idea that we could make things that never would have existed.
For as long as there's been art, imagination has been held back by skill, money, permission and access. Tons of great ideas died because the people who had them couldn't make them real. AI could knock down some of those walls, and give working professionals new tools on top of it.
I started out in broadcasting, spent a good stretch of my career as a technology executive, and came back to media over the last few years. I've seen plenty of new tools show up to a chorus of "that's not real" before they turned into just another normal part of the job. And I've seen audiences jump on new kinds of entertainment because it gave them something they wanted.
So I'm a lot more interested in what AI can make possible than in protecting every old way of doing things.
Will some AI entertainment be terrible? Of course. Will some people use it irresponsibly? Absolutely. Will jobs, copyright and fairness be hard problems? No question.
But those should push us to set good standards. Not stop us from finding out what's possible.
The next great song might come from someone who can't play a single instrument. The next great novel might come from someone who never learned how to write fiction. The next great film might come from some small indie creator who never could have gotten a studio to return their call.
If those works are original, made ethically and actually good, why should the tools matter?
I want to hear the song that gets to me. I want to read the book that makes me think. I want to see the movie I'm still turning over in my head days later.
What matters to me is the experience, the imagination behind it, and what it means to the people who enjoy it. And if AI makes that happen, especially when it otherwise never would have, that's something to celebrate.
One Last Thing
Let me make one thing clear. This article isn't intended to defend my use of AI in writing novels or running my radio company. I use AI in both, and I'm not the least bit embarrassed to say so.
When it comes to my novels, the stories are mine. The ideas, characters, plot twists, story beats, and dialogue all come from my imagination. AI doesn't create those things for me. What it does is help refine the finished product. It catches grammatical errors, identifies repetition, suggests improvements to pacing, and provides an initial editorial review before the manuscript goes to a professional human editor. The result is a better-organized manuscript and literally months of time saved, without surrendering ownership of the creative process.
And that brings me to this very article.
Did I use AI to help write it? You betcha.
But AI didn't come up with my ideas. It didn't decide what I believe, develop my arguments, or draw the comparisons between entertainment, medicine, and autonomous vehicles. Those connections came from me, from my experiences, my observations, and my perspective on where technology is taking us.
What AI did was help me organize those thoughts, clean up my grammar, tighten the writing, eliminate repetition, and express my ideas more clearly. It helped me accomplish in a fraction of the time what might otherwise have required hours of rewriting and a small army of friends willing to proofread my work.
The ideas are mine. The opinions are mine. The arguments are mine. AI simply helped me communicate them more effectively.
And in many ways, that illustrates the entire point of this article. Technology didn't replace my creativity. It helped me make better use of it.
Is that really so bad?
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