December 2, 2025
Most people who know me would be surprised to learn that originally, I was quietly optimistic about AI and its involvement in creativity. I am generally an advocate for things that allow more people to do and experience things they wouldn’t otherwise. Not everyone can write, not everyone can paint, but everyone has dreams inside of them that deserve to be realised. I still believe this, but I no longer believe AI is the answer.
I have a laundry list of ethical and moral issues with AI. From copyright and bias to concerns about labour, privacy, our planet and billionaires profiting off the erosion of human skill. Honestly, I could probably write a piece dedicated to each one of these points, and still not scratch the surface. But that’s not the purpose of this. Today, I want to set all of that aside and focus on something else, something less debated but, in my opinion, just as important.
Even if AI tools all magically became both ethically and morally okay, and even if AI can mimic human emotion, AI will never be able to feel.
When I say this, I’m talking about that feeling, you know the one. The feeling that you’ve created something special. The irreplaceable human experience of creating, collaborating, and feeling the energy of a room full of talented people working together toward building something.
That goosebumps moment when an idea lands.
When someone sketches something that makes everyone pause.
When you look around during a shoot and the room’s full of pure talent. Every person there for a reason.
When two half-baked, crazy ideas suddenly merge to become something big.
When you pitch an idea, and the spark hits. That instant, their face tells you you’ve nailed it.
When you move something in a design for the 65th time, and suddenly it all clicks.
When you take a breath, revisit the feedback, and find something better waiting underneath.
When that final full stop says everything you needed it to.
When you win the pitch, and it hits you: we did it.
When something you helped dream up is out there, in the world, doing its thing.
And even when it doesn’t work.
When the ideas aren’t right.
When paper is scrunched up and sentences scribbled out.
When decks get deleted and sticky notes thrown out.
Every single feeling that is an outcome of what we all put into this thing every single day. The creative chemistry, intuition, talent, tension, joy, laughter, frustration, tears, expertise, goosebumps, late nights, early mornings, writing, re-writing, editing, re-editing, notes, dreams, ambitions, research, brainstorms, procrastination, failing, learning, problem solving, reading, watching, doing.
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This is what matters, this should be the reason we all do what we do. AI cannot feel any of these things, and when you do any of the above with AI instead of real people, you can’t feel them either.
Why would anyone want to lose that?
Businesses are turning to AI because it allows them to stretch budgets further and deliver more with fewer resources. It’s a tool that promises time intensive tasks can be automated or sped up and reduces the need for large teams. More assets are being produced faster without increasing costs - giving clients more work, more often and allowing agencies to stay competitive in a market that demands more for less.
I’ve often been asked if the reason I’m so anti-AI is that I’m scared I will lose my job. I’m not scared of that, no. I don’t believe there will ever be a world where creatives aren’t needed. What I am scared of is the willingness of people to lose all the things that are most meaningful in this industry to meet the “more for less” demand.
Those who are pro-AI generally argue that AI is just a tool for creatives, giving them more freedom and is not there to replace them. And maybe AI is just a tool, but it’s a tool that I don’t want. I don’t want to make content faster with fewer people. I want more people, I want more talent, I want more passion. I want more humanity.
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