By Chris Snellgrove
| Published
One of the most weirdly persistent debates of the modern world is over whether AI can create art. Sure, you can type a prompt into ChatGPT or any number of AI platforms and have a unique image within seconds. But while the image is technically unique, it’s not exactly original. The AI was trained on every image it could get its grubby little gears on, so you never get a truly one-of-a-kind image. Instead, you get a mishmash of one or more artists’ styles that the AI bot helpfully masses off as completely original art.
The debate over the matter is so fierce because the two sides are so diametrically opposed. AI bros claim that this technology effectively democratizes art, making it possible for anyone to share their vision with the world. Traditional artists, meanwhile, claim that art has always been democratic and that AI is just a soulless alternative to learning how to draw. While ChatGPT and other generative AI platforms are relatively new, this debate stretches back decades, and in two forgotten episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, the android officer Data reminds us of the limits of AI art.
To Prompt Or Not To Prompt
One such example came from the episode “The Defector,” which begins with Data and Captain Picard acting out Shakespeare’s Henry V on the holodeck. After Data gives a surprisingly solid performance, Picard compliments the android’s acting. However, Data demurs and basically admits that his acting was an amalgamation of other performers who have played this role. He tells Picard, “I plan to study the performances of Olivier, Branagh, Shapiro, [and] Kullnark.” The captain replies that while Shakespeare is perfect “to learn about the human condition…you must discover it through your own performance, not by imitating others.”
This episode first aired in 1990, but Picard’s dialogue fits right in with our modern AI debate. Data, fittingly enough, is doing what artificial intelligence always does: mashing together the work of several different artists. It looks like an original performance at first, which is why Picard applauds. But after finding out what Data did, he chides the android for just mashing a few other performances together and calling it a day. After all, he will never develop as an artist if he doesn’t take the time to develop his own style instead of copying everyone’s homework.
Picard Has Entered The Chat
This obviously reflects our modern discourse about generative AI. As an avid Shakespeare fan, Picard understands that what made those earlier actors so great was that they found ways to put their own spin on Henry V. If those performers hadn’t, in turn, just tried to copy others, then acting becomes functionally meaningless.
The conversation about Data creating art actually echoes another conversation in the earlier episode “The Ensigns of Command.” When Picard tells the android that his recent violin performance “shows feeling,” Data corrects him. “Strictly speaking, sir, it is not my playing. It is a precise imitation of the techniques of Jascha Heifetz and Trenka Bronken.” Picard insists that Data created something original because he successfully combined two very different performances. Reluctantly, Data takes the compliment, telling his commanding officer that “I have learned to be creative…when necessary.”
At this point, AI bros might think that Captain Picard is on their side. After all, he argues that by choosing to combine two wildly different musicians, Data is actually synthesizing something new, which is akin to “prompt engineers” feeding a bunch of contrary ideas into ChatGPT and hoping for the best. The key difference, though, is that Data still had to bust out the violin and successfully perform this composition himself. Picard considers Data an artist because the android actually makes art. So-called prompt engineers aren’t even doing that; they are simply asking the computer to make something cool and then taking the credit.
Computer: End Program
To keep our Star Trek framing, think of it this way: simply telling a computer to draw a picture is a bit like an Enterprise crewman telling the holodeck to create an exotic vista. Obviously, it takes some level of thought to generate an idea and tell it to the ship’s computer. But the crew doesn’t have to program anything or render anything because the Enterprise does all of the hard work for them. That’s why, in the far-flung future of the 24th century, nobody calls themselves an artist for barking a sentence or two at the computer when they get bored.
Unfortunately, the world is far less enlightened here in the 21st century. The laziest people in the world are typing one sentence into a glorified search engine and treating the resulting aesthetic abomination as a startlingly brilliant and original piece of art. Even wilder, they get grumpy when you don’t treat them like serious artists who spent a lifetime perfecting their craft. As it turns out, both now and in the future, there’s one thing that AI can’t generate: the approval from others that these tech bros so desperately need!
