Ego and Ethics in the Great AI Art Debate

#PersonalEssay #ArmchairPhilosophy #WebWorks

The Muse for this Essay

Today in my email inbox I saw I had a new message from someone I didn't know on Etsy. As my shop is still new, this feels exciting – "maybe it's a customer and not spam! What did they say? How can I help them?"

Well, this message was not that. The message was:

"Girl why would you advertise your products as if you drew them and they're all AI lol. That's ridiculous"

Unsolicited, from a total stranger. Opening with mockery, though casually disguised as "friendly," calling me "girl." 💁🏼‍♀️ But I get it. The flood of AI-generated products on Etsy is real, and scary! And a lot of it is junk, unfortunately. That's not good for anyone using Etsy – customers, sellers, or even Etsy as a marketplace and business. So I responded:

"I'm sorry? I am not advertising them as if I drew them. In the designs where I use AI, my descriptions explicitly say some graphic elements were generated by AI. My videos show me editing and refining the graphics in Procreate because it takes a lot of work to get the details, inconsistencies and illogical stuff to look correct. I put a lot of time and attention to making sure the AI pieces are as close to "perfect" as they can be, rather than publishing products with messed up hands, faces and other details, which is what a lot of people are doing.

I personally want the quality [of my products] to be excellent. That takes a lot of time, whether working with AI or doing everything by hand. My descriptions and videos are meant to show that. And there are other pieces in my shop that are completely done by hand, so it's not 'all' just one thing"

His response:

"You don’t know how ai works do you lol
You’re contributing to stealing from real artists
You should hire someone that could actually draw and make designs for you and not falsely advertise those pictures as art
The videos on your listings show as if you were drawing them, but if you say so, whatever
Also selling gay stuff and everything and I bet you’re not even part of this community ☠️yeah profit from the gays"

Wow, that escalated quickly! Now he's attacking me personally, that's cool. So I said:

"You don't know me and you do not need to make this personal, if you want to be constructive you can say 'MAKE YOUR VIDEOS MORE OBVIOUS LIKE X' but this is just empty criticism.
I do know how AI 'works' and clearly you have your opinions about it
I am not selling 'gay stuff' – my products are for the 'girls and gays' [because those groups are] generally the people who like to see handsome men lol
I am not here to 'profit from the gays' get over yourself"

And then he said nothing at all, which said everything. Silence is golden!

When Critique Becomes Performance: The Pattern

Here's the script this person followed, and if you're online in 2025, you might notice it's pretty typical:

  1. Lead with moral certainty ("you're lying/stealing/exploiting")
  2. Ignore evidence to the contrary (dismiss, deflect, "whatever")
  3. Escalate to character attacks when the argument fails (you're not a real artist, you don't belong, you're a fraud)
  4. Disengage when dominance doesn't land (he went silent after I said "get over yourself")

This isn't a helpful, constructive discussion, or even a concerned creator trying to understand someone else's process. It's ego maintenance disguised as ethics.

And the truly sad part? I looked at his shop, and this person is clearly talented. His work shows skill, creativity, vision. He could be making beautiful things, growing his craft, building community. Instead, he's in strangers' DMs trying to feel bigger by making someone else smaller, policing others to avoid his own creative or emotional stagnation.

I want to break down what happened in this message exchange, argument by argument – because this isn't about me, or even about AI. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better example of how moral posturing becomes a substitute for self-examination, and how that dynamic is currently rotting creative culture more than AI ever could.

Argument 1️⃣: "You're Falsely Advertising"

The claim: I was presenting AI work as hand-drawn.

What was actually happening: My products that have AI-assisted elements all have the disclaimer "some graphics generated by AI, entire composition edited and refined by hand" in the description. My videos show my editing process in Procreate, of specific elements of larger pieces. I do this to assert the quality of the graphics and be transparent about my process. I'm not hiding anything.

When I pointed this out, he deflected immediately with "if you say so, whatever": the equivalent of someone realizing their accusation failed but refusing to acknowledge it. He didn't say "Oh, I missed that, my bad" – he moved to a different attack. Because this was never about accuracy. It was about finding something to condemn.

Now, there is an interesting implication that emerges from his mistake: first, of projecting onto the videos of me working in Procreate that I am trying to deceive people. Next, of not reading or looking for disclaimers. And finally, the accusation that I am "falsely advertising those pictures as art." If disclosure itself were the concern, then accuracy would have resolved the issue. It didn’t.

The implication is that I should somehow be "more" obvious about the fact that I am using AI, even though I am already being transparent about it. Why is that?

It's a medium, not a moral test

A painter lists their medium as "oil on canvas." A photographer notes "digital print." A sculptor might say "bronze" or "mixed media." These disclosures exist in the description or beside the work – they're not plastered across the front in bold red letters. Why? Because the audience cares about what they're seeing and how it makes them feel. The customer cares about what they're getting, and whether it meets their needs. The point of receiving or purchasing art is not about performing moral verification. It is about the impact a piece has, and the vibe it creates, the story it tells.

My customers want to know: Is this a physical print or digital download? What size is it? Will the colors look good in my space? Does it capture the feeling I'm going for? So, how much more "transparent" "should" I be? When my description says "AI-assisted graphic elements, refined by hand in Procreate," that tells my customer what they're getting: a polished, thoughtfully-edited design. It doesn't force them to take a position in someone else's culture war; the focus is on the product and art itself.

The demand that AI use be treated differently – that it requires bright, red WARNING labels, confessions, even moral flagellation – reveals what's really happening: certain people want AI users to perform shame as a condition of existing. The "real artists" who want "fake AI artists" to apologize for our process, grovel for legitimacy, accept that we or our creations are somehow "less-than" are not holding others accountable in honest transparency. It's just self-aggrandizement and subordination, plain and simple.

The thing is, making other people "bad" to make yourself seem "better" is not actually going create the impact you want, OR sell any of your art... so put your weapons down, you silly goose!

Argument 2️⃣: "You're Stealing from Real Artists"

This is the big one. The "moral center" of the anti-AI crusade. And it's where things get philosophically incoherent.

The claim: Using AI = theft, because AI was trained on artists' work and therefore I'm using it unethically

Here's the kicker though: After our message exchange, I looked at this guy's shop, and it was FULL of celebrity likenesses! Prints, mugs, t-shirts of famous people and their lyrics, quotes, etc. Literal use of others' identities for profit, which is an actual, legally-recognized form of misappropriation.

So: AI-assisted original designs with full disclosure = theft. But selling someone's actual face without permission = fine?

For this guy, and people who act like this guy, the argument isn't about ethics. It's about protecting a clearly fragile identity. In this perspective, "real artists" becomes an in-group that excludes the perceived threat, "fake AI artists," to maintain status. The moral language is being used as a weapon, and not to promote truth, equity, or good work.

Now, let's get into the real material and philosophical discussion around this.

This is a Complex Discussion

I want to start by saying: the legal and ethical questions around AI training are REAL and COMPLICATED. Some AI models have been trained on datasets that include copyrighted work without clear consent or compensation structures. AI music generators can reproduce specific artists' vocal styles with eerie precision. Image generators trained on specific artists' portfolios can mimic their distinctive techniques closely enough to potentially harm their market position.

For example, even the use of publicly available artwork for training AI models remains controversial. Some argue that even though the data is publicly accessible, the process of training AI on it without explicit consent from individual artists raises moral concerns, particularly regarding attribution and the devaluation of artistic influence. Critics point out that different AI models can learn from vast datasets, and potentially incorporate or replicate elements of specific artists' styles without proper acknowledgment, which some view as erasing the influence of the original creators.

This is especially important to consider when the ethical use of AI depends heavily on the user's actions. Various companies make an effort to provide user control and transparency, which is a step toward responsible management, but the moral landscape remains nuanced and subject to ongoing discussion for good reason. These are legitimate concerns that need addressing through better legal frameworks, clearer consent mechanisms, and compensation models. Artists deserve protection and they deserve compensation for their contributions to humanity, and the speed of AI development has outpaced our ability to create those protections.

But – and it's a big but – screaming "theft" at individual creators using legal tools doesn't address any of this. It just creates a hostile environment that conflates individual users with systemic problems.

If you're truly concerned about exploitation in art, there are far more direct, harmful examples: actual traced art theft sold on print-on-demand platforms, wage theft in creative industries, corporations underpaying artists while profiting from their work, platforms taking 40% cuts while providing minimal creator protection. But those fights are harder. They require systemic change, not self-righteously DMing strangers.

No Art is Original

Here's the philosophical complexity that blanket-equating AI with theft ignores: AI, just like every artist ever, is "trained" on other artists' work. We are all shaped by everything around us. We are all products of learning, influence, and visual culture.

To create, we inevitably destroy and build upon what came before. That is the inherent process of creation, like stars exploding and turning into molecules that reconfigured themselves into our literal Earth and bodies. Humans absorb things that shape our vision and perspective and imagination, and as creative beings we transform what is alive inside us to grow what is becoming: our own "original" work, which ultimately becomes the stardust of someone else's future creation. That's beautiful, right?

No artist or art can be extracted from everything that has ever touched or influenced them and be called "completely original" – therefore the line around what constitutes "original work" and what is "copyrightable" has been blurry since time immemorial. Copyright law has always struggled with questions like: When does inspiration become imitation? How much can you borrow before it's infringement? Who owns a style, a genre, a technique? Where's the line between homage and theft?

These questions predate AI by centuries. The legal frameworks we have now (fair use, transformative work, substantial similarity tests) are all imperfect attempts to navigate this inherent murkiness. Yes, we need better frameworks for AI. But we need better frameworks, period.

Culture is not Copyrightable

In very practical terms, my products use a specific aesthetic: vintage pinup, travel posters and commercial magazine illustrations from the 1940s-50s. This was a broad commercial style used by hundreds of illustrators working for publications like Esquire, The Saturday Evening Post, and various advertising campaigns. These were commissioned works, often uncredited, that established a visual language of glamour, charm, and idealized masculinity/femininity. Artists like Gil Elvgren, George Petty, and Alberto Vargas became known for this style, but they didn't invent it – they worked within an existing commercial tradition.

No one owns "1940s pinup style" as intellectual property. Just like no one owns anime. No one owns impressionism. No one owns art deco. Once a style becomes a style, it's a reference point, an aesthetic vocabulary – not protectable IP. A specific illustration by a specific artist can be protected, but no one can copyright a general visual approach, color palette, compositional tendencies, or the cultural aesthetic of an era.

My AI-assisted work draws on a broad stylistic tradition, the same way a contemporary artist might work "in the style of" impressionism or a designer might create art deco-inspired graphics. I infuse this style with a modern sensibility and clever, cheeky/flirty playfulness that is my personal creative lens and vision. Then I refine, correct, and polish until the final piece is cohesive, intentional, and as technically correct as I can reasonably expect it to be. That's not theft. It's working within and reimagining a visual tradition – the same thing that was done by the very artists who inspire my work.

Argument 3️⃣: "You Should Hire Someone Who Can Actually Draw"

Um, okay YES! I would LOVE to do that. But guess what? I am just one little shop owner with lots of ideas, a decent amount of debt, and definitely not a lot of money. One day when I have the funds I will be THRILLED to hire human artists!

But even then, I think AI will still be a helpful tool. And at present, AI is one of the resources I have to help me create a shop filled with products that inspire me, and that are intended to inspire more joy for others. If they don't fill you with joy, well, I sincerely hope you find joy elsewhere. But whether or not I "should" (or even have the ability to) be hiring artists isn't what this guy was really talking about.

The underlying sentiment is: "your work isn't legitimate because you didn't labor or suffer the right way, like people who can 'actually draw.'" This argument reveals the "craft-as-virtue" fallacy that permeates art discourse. The belief that the value of art is in the labor, not the outcome. Let's think about that for a minute.

A photographer doesn't paint every pixel – the camera captures the light. Photography, now considered a very powerful art form, wasn't believed to be "real art" for a long time after the camera was invented. "What the heck, you're using real-life subjects!" "What the heck, the camera does all the work!" But at some point, we decided it was a valid means of creative expression, and we see how different photographers use this technology and their real-life subjects to inspire through their unique work.

A digital artist uses brushes with built-in texture and stabilization. Many "real" painters hated that, and many still do! But if you know anything about digital art, you know that even with the technological upgrades, there is still so much work that goes into a piece. Digital art is a different medium with different challenges than traditional art, but that doesn't make it not art.

A web designer uses templates, stock elements, and pre-made fonts, oh my! Even in the 1800s designers figured out how to create stencils and re-use existing elements to create new designs. A modern-day sculptor uses power tools, not hand-chisels; that's perfectly acceptable in the modern world, but I bet Michaelangelo would be shocked!

You get the picture. We accept all of these things now because we've decided they're legitimate tools. But the line between "tool" and "cheating" is completely arbitrary and historically contingent. If you're someone who's been attacking AI because it makes you feel like you're on the right side of history, ask yourself honestly: Is this actually about ethics, or is it about ego? Are you protecting art, or protecting your sense of superiority? Are your actions making the creative world better, or just more hostile?

And let's be perfectly frank – if you think AI art is "easy," you clearly haven't tried to make a piece with a specific vision in mind. Crafting prompts to get things just right, working on iteration after iteration, getting stuck somewhere between desperate frustration and bursting into laughter at the absurdity of what AI is making, and finally refining pieces by hand actually takes a lot of time (especially if the piece is complex!).

AI allows me to create within this style now, with the skills I have, rather than needing to build those skills from the ground up. Yes, building those skills from the ground up is a valuable process, and I continue to expand my hand-based abilities with practice. In fact, many designs in my shop are made without the help of AI. But if you want me to sweat more to prove that my work is legitimate, then what you value is labor, not art.

Once we accept that tools evolve over time, the only remaining question is whether the finished work actually does what art is meant to do.

"Good" art is not measured by the method

Yes, the medium and tools used to create an art piece are important. Yes, the creative process is beautiful, confusing, transformative. All of that is sacred.

But at the end of the day, our creations are meant to have impact, somewhere, somehow, for someone (even if it's just the artist themselves) – that's why they were asking to be made in the first place. So aside from all the background context, why does the finished piece matter? How does the work move you? Does it communicate something? Does it show care, intention, refinement?

I've seen breathtaking AI-assisted work and absolute garbage made entirely by hand. I've seen AI slop that's insulting to look at and traditional art that's technically perfect but emotionally dead.

Good art creates emotion. Bad art is bad regardless of how it's made. The obsession with process over outcome is just gatekeeping dressed up as standards.

Argument 4️⃣: "You're Profiting from the Gays"

Alright so the last argument is clearly not central to AI discourse, obviously because this one was just pure flailing. When his critiques of my work collapsed, he went straight to identity policing.

The accusation: I'm not part of the LGBTQ+ community, so selling "gay stuff" is exploitative.

However:

When people run out of substantive arguments, they reach for identity-based attacks. Not because they care about the communities they're invoking, but because shame is the last tool in the arsenal.

Using marginalized identities as props for your own ego battles is its own form of exploitation. And it's everywhere in online discourse right now.

So you want to talk about exploitation...

The current AI art discourse is stuck because of people like this guy. Yes, there are real issues to be concerned about, but if we let our ego run the show we'll burn up all that creative energy on a pointless argument that doesn't create the world we want to see.

What if we shifted our focus on what really matters – our desires for ourselves, other humans, our planet, our future? What if we saw AI as a tool that can help, rather than a weapon that can only harm? What if we acknowledged the power of the humans using the tool, rather than externalizing our own creative life force onto technology we created? What if we approached the problems associated with AI with curiosity and creativity, rather than just trying to shut it down?

Unhelpful: "It's unethical to use AI"
Helpful: "What are you making with it, and are you honest about it?"

Unhelpful: "AI images are just meaningless slop"
Helpful: "What is the purpose of this image? Does the work achieve what it's trying to achieve?"

Unhelpful: "You should suffer more to make real art"
Helpful: "Do you care enough to make it mean something to someone?"

The obsession with purity (pure process, pure labor, pure authenticity) is a distraction from actual quality and ethics. Do you want to solve the problems you're bringing up, or just sit around arguing about it?

Let's talk about solutions

You want to talk about exploitation in art? Let's talk about:

And, more importantly, let's talk about how we can fix it. What about:

Using AI to make something thoughtfully is not the problem. In fact, we need more thoughtful people to be able to share their thoughtful thoughts, so if AI makes it easier for those people, then that's actually a great thing! The problem is systemic devaluation of creative labor, and that existed long before AI. Yes, the power of AI is scary – but what if we use that fear to create something beautiful, instead of tear each other down?

Valid concerns masking deeper anxiety

The AI panic is partly valid concern about technology's impact on creative livelihoods. But I also think it's become a convenient container for deeper anxieties: fear of obsolescence, fear of irrelevance, fear that what someone spent years mastering might not matter anymore, fear that talent is more subjective than we want to believe. And instead of sitting with those fears (processing them, adapting, finding new ground) some people are externalizing them as moral crusades.

It's easier to call someone a thief than to examine why their work bothers you. It's easier to police technology than to ask why your own work isn't connecting with your intended audience. It's easier to perform righteousness than to brave the work of emotional, personal, and ultimately creative growth. And it's easier to pick on individuals rather than organize and collaborate with others to create systemic, lasting change.

The real threat to creative culture

The real threat to creative culture is the same thing it's always been: devaluing the creative process. Mediocrity disguised as virtue. Bad art defended because it was made the "right" way. Lazy work excused because the creator suffered "enough." Stagnation protected because change feels threatening. Beautiful work smothered by someone else's ugliness. Taking away the agency of artists. AI didn't create that dynamic, but it definitely exposes it. What we do with that exposure matters. We can either:

I know which world I want to live in. And I'm building it: one carefully-refined, AI-assisted, fully-disclosed, emotionally-resonant design at a time.

A Message for Others Navigating This

If you're using AI in your work and being harassed for it:

The person who messaged me wasn't protecting anything. He was displacing his own stagnation by finding external enemies, and using his time and energy to tear someone down in the process. And that pattern – repeated across thousands of similar interactions – is doing far more damage to creative culture than AI ever could. Can you imagine how beautiful the world could be, if we knew the power of that energy, learned how to harness it, and instead of using it to destroy, turned it towards *creating?

To the person who inspired this article: Thank you. I've been meaning to write this for awhile. And also, you're talented enough not to act like this. I hope you figure that out before you waste years of your creative life and energy performing moral superiority to avoid the real work. The world needs your creations, your authenticity, your heart. It's time to start acting like it.

December 17, 2025

Authors Note: This writing emerged from a real exchange with another Etsy seller and the reflections it sparked. The essay was developed through dialogue with Claude AI (Anthropic's Claude Sonnet 4.5), which helped me organize thoughts I'd expressed in conversation and provided approximately 50-60% of argument articulation and structure through my direction. The remaining 40-50% represents original writing, including the opening narrative, substantial rewrites of key sections, and additional perspective. I refined, expanded, and personalized the final piece in my own voice. I believe in transparent attribution when AI tools contribute to creative work, both to acknowledge the collaborative process and to recognize that AI systems are built upon the collective knowledge and labor of countless human contributors.