In some creative circles nowadays the great fear is that artificial intelligence will soon match or exceed the capacities of human writers, artists, filmmakers — such that at the push of a button we will have a near-infinite abundance of the kind of stories that ordinary mortals used to labor and sweat to bring to the page or the screen.
But a more pressing fear might be that in the shadow of AI, human beings are preparing their own obsolescence in advance, producing and consuming more and more creative work that seems algorithmic rather than inspired, accepting in blockbuster movies and Netflix series and the groaning shelves of “YA Fiction” a level of creativity that seems indistinguishable from what you might expect from plugging a storytelling prompt into ChatGPT.
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