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I reimagined my most viral photographs as AI Imagery… and it left me feeling cold

Over the last few weeks, several prominent photographers with large followings have shared “re-imagined” versions of their work on Instagram using AI software. While these posts have had their critics (me among them), they’ve attracted just as many—if not more—comments praising their beauty and congratulating their supposed talent.


For me, photography has always been about time in the field—the successes and failures, chasing conditions, trekking into the relative wilderness, the mindfulness, the exercise, the like-minded community, and the growth that comes from doing the same thing repeatedly, but slightly differently. Sharing my photos is the least enjoyable part—suddenly all that effort and personality is out there for judgement. AI images flip that on their head: for some, the process doesn’t matter. Only the returns do. Ten thousand likes is good; artistic integrity is bad.


This photo took a couple of years to capture as I imagined, with the right kind of fog during peak Bluebell season. One of the trees has fallen down now so I'll never be able to reshoot it. It received barely any comments on social media and did nothing in a couple of competitions I entered it into, yet it remains one of my favourite photos because of the story and effort it took to capture. I could generate this from scratch in a few seconds with AI, or add some flare that would make it stand out more- but it wouldn't mean anything.
This photo took a couple of years to capture as I imagined, with the right kind of fog during peak Bluebell season. One of the trees has fallen down now so I'll never be able to reshoot it. It received barely any comments on social media and did nothing in a couple of competitions I entered it into, yet it remains one of my favourite photos because of the story and effort it took to capture. I could generate this from scratch in a few seconds with AI, or add some flare that would make it stand out more- but it wouldn't mean anything.

The continued rise of AI imagery feels inevitable. AI-generated images are getting increasingly sophisticated, and for social media purposes—where the thirst for pretty, impactful images is endless—they’re almost ideal. Businesses can type a few keywords and get images good enough for their needs—faster, cheaper, and without engaging a photographer. Like Abe Simpson shaking his fist at the clouds, getting angry about it feels kind of pointless.


But here’s my problem—not with AI itself, but with what it represents when presented as photography. I use AI at work—ChatGPT for spell checking, data analysis, and yes, I even ran this blog through it for irony’s sake—but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with AI replacing the craft, the effort, and the ethical standards of a creative medium. AI as a tool? Fine. AI as a “creative partner”? No, thank you.


Additionally, some of these posts carry a strong whiff of sponsored content, yet nowhere did it indicate that money changed hands. If you’re going to gamble with your reputation, at least be upfront about it.


The subject of my ire isn’t the tool itself, but the tools who peddle these images as artwork, as if it’s some kind of achievement—and the people who lap it up and indulge their networking narcissism without question. Meanwhile, true photographers who work hard for their craft risk disappearing into the void as visual gratification replaces heart and honesty.


If this kind of imagery is the new normal, maybe we need a new kind of label. A self-appointed “artist” who generates images entirely through keywords—or AI-trained copyright infringement—and passes it off as their own work for financial or reputational benefit could be a Clickgrifter, Render Jockey, Imagebro, or Algorithm Adams.


But definitely not a photographer.


Generated in two seconds with no thought or effort of a free image generator found on Google - no soul, no talent, no point
Generated in two seconds with no thought or effort of a free image generator found on Google - no soul, no talent, no point

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© 2024 by David Shaw

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