Every generation of artists faces the same existential panic when a new tool arrives on the scene.

The camera should have made painters obsolete—why labor over a canvas when you could capture reality at the press of a button? The printing press was sure to devalue the written word. And when Photoshop came around, every photographer worried they’d be out of a job.

And yet, none of these predictions came true. Not even close.

Instead, something more interesting happened. Each technological leap didn’t replace what came before—it expanded the creative landscape and simultaneously, made traditional methods more valuable, not less. Today, a hand-painted portrait commands respect precisely because it requires dedication in an age of infinite digital reproductions. A letterpress print carries weight because someone chose the harder path. The scarcity and intention behind traditional methods became their greatest asset.

The art world doesn’t collapse with each innovation. It evolves. It always has, and it always will.

The Real Source of Our Fear

So why does AI feel different? Why does this particular tool trigger such visceral resistance in the creative community?

I don’t believe we’re actually afraid that AI will eliminate human creativity. How could it? Creativity isn’t a finite resource that can be depleted or replaced. It’s more like water—persistent, adaptable, unstoppable. It finds a way through the smallest cracks, and given enough time, it carves canyons through solid rock. You can’t kill something that’s fundamentally part of the human experience.

No, I think if we’re being honest, what we’re really afraid of is losing our competitive advantage.

For decades, creative professionals have built their careers on mastering complex tools. We’ve spent years learning the intricacies of cameras, editing software, design programs—building moats around our expertise. It’s comfortable being exceptional when the tools themselves create a high barrier to entry.

But when everyone suddenly has access to powerful tools that lower that barrier? When technical execution becomes democratized? That changes the game entirely. It means we can no longer coast on technical proficiency alone. We have to dig deeper. We have to offer something that can’t be automated or replicated.

And that’s uncomfortable. It requires so much more from us.

Of course that kind of change scares us.

The Age of Ideas

But here’s what I find exciting about this shift: we’re entering an era where ideas become the ultimate currency.

Technical ability will always matter—but it won’t be the differentiator it once was. When anyone can generate a technically polished image or edit a video to professional standards, what makes your work stand out? Your perspective. Your lived experience. The unique lens through which you see the world and the ideas you bring to the table.

The human genius behind the work—that’s what will matter most.

Think about what that means. Your story, your struggles, your observations about the world around you—these become your greatest creative assets. The collective weight of your life experience, made visible through your creative ideas. That’s something no AI can replicate, because it’s fundamentally, beautifully, uniquely yours.

Two Ways Forward

I’ve always been an optimist by nature, so perhaps it’s predictable that I’m approaching AI with curiosity rather than dread.

But it’s also pragmatic. Because really, there are only two possible outcomes here.

Either AI represents a fundamental shift in how we create—in which case, we can fight it and waste our energy raging against the inevitable, or we can engage with it, explore its possibilities, and find our place in this new landscape.

Or it doesn’t live up to the hype, and we’ll have spent this time learning a new tool that joins all the others in our creative arsenal.

Either way, curiosity serves us better than fear.

I’d rather spend this moment of transition exploring, experimenting, and playing. Even if we’re headed toward some creative apocalypse (which I don’t believe we are), I’d prefer to spend that time creating rather than complaining. Best to enjoy the ride while we’re on it.

The Real Threat Isn’t Artificial

But let me be clear about something: I’m not suggesting we simply accept whatever comes and remain passive observers.

The technology itself doesn’t worry me. Intelligence—whether artificial or human—tends toward creation, exploration, and progress. It most often looks to solve problems. To makes things better.

What concerns me is how humans choose to wield it, because ignorance and ego—those are the real threats. The scarcity mindset that convinces us someone else’s success diminishes our own. That toxic model we absorbed in our earliest school years, where learning became a competition and failure was weaponized. The perverse satisfaction some people take in watching others struggle, as if tearing others down somehow elevates their own position.

This is the danger we need to guard against.

As AI technology develops, we each have a responsibility—whatever our sphere of influence—to steer this ship wisely. To push for applications that benefit the many rather than concentrate power in the hands of a few. To advocate for ethical implementation. To ensure that this tool expands creative possibilities for everyone, not just those who can afford access.

If we stay engaged, informed, and intentional about shaping this technology’s role in our creative industries, I genuinely believe the future will be just as beautiful as anything we’ve known before. Just as inspirational. Just as inviting to those with true creative vision.

The Path Keeps Carving Forward

The tools will change. They always do.

But the fundamental human drive to create, to express, to connect through our work—that remains constant. It’s been with us since we first painted on cave walls by firelight, and it will carry us forward into whatever comes next.

The creative path keeps carving through the landscape, one idea at a time. The question is simply whether we’re willing to flow with it.