Why I'm not worried about AI 'replacing' me

I've been thinking about how often we encounter the word "premium.”

It used to mean something materially better: better leather, better denim, better craftsmanship, richer ingredients, more care. Now it usually means smoother software, cleaner interfaces, fewer inconveniences, more optimization.

I’m not particularly worried about AI replacing meaningful creative work because I suspect it may end up clarifying what creativity actually is.

But in the AI era, the meaning of the word may flip again. When flawless synthetic output becomes infinite and nearly free, reality itself starts becoming premium.

Man vs. machine

I was having lunch with a group of conservative thinkers the other day when the topic of AI came up. After a brief discussion about the impact on the workforce and the broad and possibly revolutionary effects it may bring, someone turned to me and asked how I thought it might impact my work as a writer and photographer.

I said something to the effect of the following.

I am not particularly worried about AI — at least not for myself. For others, definitely. For the world as a whole, yep. But for myself and my work? No.

Why? Because I think AI will have a strangely asymmetrical impact. The more something already resembled machine output — efficient, predictable, frictionless, synthetic — the more vulnerable it is now that actual machines can produce it at scale. But anything trying as hard as possible not to seem machine-made will become more valuable than ever.

For all the photos and videos that were overly surreal or trying to be as smooth and perfect as possible, the jig is up. AI will do it better and easier. There will be no need for glossed-up photos or videos that look unreal and appear like cheap visual candy. Eventually — and we are already seeing it — this style and whole aesthetic will be completely unwanted and thought of as one of the most egregious examples of what is now known as AI slop.

For the cheap writing with no meaning and no purpose, the words that exist only to fill the page, it’s over. It’s the same story for anyone who has spent recent years trying to perfect the art of being a human Wikipedia page without any heart or humanity. All of this stuff will be replaced by AI.

Essentially the skills that are basically humans just attempting to act like, or perform the functions of, computers will be less valuable than ever.

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Great divide

Certainly, there will be a great divide, and surely many people will continue to enjoy the AI slop. They will watch the videos on Facebook not knowing or even caring if they're computer-generated. They will listen to AI music and be content, like the driver of the cab I recently took in Italy. There will be people who actually prefer the machine-made over anything human.

But for those of us who value personality, judgment, taste, eccentricity, and genuine presence, all things human will become more valuable than ever.

In a world of infinite fake perfection, the real will become more valuable. The unedited image will become premium. A film photograph is not just an image file floating around a server farm somewhere; it is the physical residue of a real moment. Light literally struck a strip of chemical-coated film and permanently altered it. Someone had to choose the frame, press the shutter, and live with the result.

Proof of life

The faceless information-spewer is finished. Once machines can produce infinite competent text, competence itself becomes cheap. What those who care will seek out instead is the evidence of a particular consciousness. In the age of AI, the most valuable thing a creator can offer is proof that a real human being was here.

I’m not particularly worried about AI replacing meaningful creative work because I suspect it may end up clarifying what creativity actually is. It's not just the domain of painters or novelists but of anyone with the courage to put something of themselves into their work, something that resists the eerie, frictionless perfection of the AI age.

The more we are immersed in that perfection — the more inescapable it becomes — the more people will hunger for signs of actual life — that "handmade" quality of something one human creates for another.

That will be premium.