In Part 1, we explored how throughout history, new creative tools, from the printing press to photography and film, have consistently disciplined artists and forged new frontiers of expression. The notion that AI, inherently, will stifle creativity flies in the face of this enduring pattern. Yet, the cries of “lack of creativity” persist, often laid squarely at AI’s feet. This accusation, however, often misses the forest for the trees, conflating symptoms of pre-existing cultural issues with the advent of a new technology. The perceived “lack of creativity” isn’t a new phenomenon caused by AI; it’s a condition that largely predates it, and one for which we, as a culture, bear significant responsibility.
Let’s challenge this premise directly. Is there truly a lack of creativity, or are we simply looking in the wrong places, or defining “creativity” too narrowly? When critics lament declining originality, they often point to the mainstream; Hollywood’s relentless churn of sequels and reboots, or pop music’s seemingly endless loop of familiar formulas. But these trends were firmly entrenched long before generative AI became a widespread phenomenon.
“…new creative tools… have consistently disciplined artists and forged new frontiers of expression.”
Consider Hollywood’s infamous “franchise fetish.” For well over a decade, critics and audiences alike have decried the film industry’s increasing reliance on established intellectual property, shying away from original screenplays in favor of guaranteed box office returns from superheroes, animated spin-offs, and re-imaginings of existing stories. This risk-averse strategy is a product of massive budgets, global distribution demands, and corporate consolidation, not the sudden emergence of AI. Studios, driven by financial imperatives, opted for safety. AI might be seen by some as a tool to optimize this existing, conservative model (e.g., endlessly generate variations on existing IP), but it didn’t create the underlying problem of creative stagnation at the executive level.
The “content mill” culture is another prime example. The internet, with its insatiable appetite for new material, coupled with the rise of social media and the “creator economy,” ushered in an era where quantity often trumps quality. Before AI text generators and image creators were common, platforms demanded constant uploads, daily videos, and hourly posts to maintain engagement and algorithmic visibility. This relentless pressure to churn out material already led to vast amounts of repetitive, formulaic, or derivative content. AI can certainly accelerate this production, but the underlying drive for volume, often at the expense of originality, was a pre-existing condition of our digital landscape. Blaming AI for generic content when the demand for generic content was already sky-high is a profound misdirection.
The truth is, we have an abundance of creativity, but it largely exists outside the mainstream. The problem isn’t a drought of innovation; it’s that many people are conditioned to be allergic to anything that doesn’t fit the established, algorithmically curated mold. They only recognize creativity when it’s presented by major studios, labels, or publishers, missing the vast, experimental, and genuinely novel work thriving on independent platforms, niche online communities, and personal projects. When they do encounter something new, they often don’t recognize it because their context for comparison is limited solely to mainstream products.
“The perceived ‘lack of creativity’ and the accusations of ‘laziness’… are largely red herrings.”
This leads to another critical issue: the homogenization of context. Our globalized, instantaneous communication environment means everyone, everywhere, is drawing from remarkably similar wells of information and inspiration. Trends spread globally in minutes. This rapid, interconnected flow of information inevitably leads to creative synchronicity; many people having similar ideas simultaneously because they’re all operating within the same immediate cultural zeitgeist. This isn’t AI’s fault; it’s a byproduct of hyper-connectivity. Paradoxically, AI could actually help break this cycle by offering artists tools to generate entirely different iterations of their own ideas, allowing them to explore avenues without being algorithmically curated into predictable trends by social media feeds and search rankings.
Finally, we must address the accusation that choosing AI as a tool is somehow “lazy,” “cheating,” or “less creative.” This is a profound misunderstanding that conflates creative output with manual effort. Is a photographer “lazy” compared to a painter? Is a musician using a synthesizer “cheating” compared to one playing a traditional instrument? Early photography was dismissed as a mechanical novelty lacking artistic merit; electronic music was derided as “soulless.” Yet, these mediums blossomed into profound art forms demanding new skills and unique expressions, without the previous mediums existence or integrity being compromised.
Creativity is about novel ideas, emotional impact, aesthetic choices, and effective communication, not necessarily how many hours you spend physically manipulating a brush or chisel. If AI tools can automate tedious tasks or accelerate iteration, they free the artist to focus more deeply on the conceptual and visionary aspects of their work. This doesn’t make the process “lazy”; it makes it potentially more efficient and allows for an unprecedented depth of creative exploration. The effort shifts from manual execution to intellectual guidance, prompt engineering, curating, and refining. The human is still the director, the editor, the visionary.
“Blaming AI for generic content… is a profound misdirection.”
The perceived “lack of creativity” and the accusations of “laziness” leveled against AI are largely red herrings. They distract from the deeper truth: a thriving, diverse creative landscape that mainstream audiences often miss, and a fundamental misunderstanding of how new tools have always, and will continue to push the boundaries of what’s possible. In Part 3, we will delve into the very human psychological biases that contribute to this resistance and how they might be the true creative impediments of our time.
Christopher Moonlight is an animator, special effects artist, and the director of the ‘Award This’ winning movie, The Quantum Terror. His upcoming animated sci-fi adventure, Escape From Planet Omega-12, combines traditional film-making special effects with AI to create something never seen before in independent film. You can follow the behind-the-scenes, including tutorials, tips, and tricks, on his YouTube Channel and Substack.
"…these mediums blossomed into profound art forms demanding new skills and unique expressions, without the previous mediums existence or integrity being compromised."
