A Presupposition of the Machine Culture
A brief overview of a key presupposition regarding the notion of AI art
Introduction
There is a particular question that floats around the air nowadays that will soon have to be brought down with a long pole and answered: are we to draw a decisive ontological distinction between the creations of a machine, and those of a human? Or should this distinction fade into irrelevancy? The collective acceptance of AI generated art would imply the latter, its rejection the former.
Perhaps we could better evaluate the question by reflecting on the effects of our decision. Some implications of a collective acceptance would immediately come to mind: job loss and concomitant economic upheaval…the picture is quite clear, though those inclined to welcome this acceptance will not be moved by such notions. With a languorous gesture of the hand, they will point towards an arbitrary event in history: “Yes, and the automobile greatly reduced the need for the stableboy and crews to clean manure, but we have gotten past that, and progressed to a new and brighter era. This time is no different.”
While I greatly admire such unjustified optimism, unfortunately it does seem that this time is quite different. You see, behind the choice of acceptance is a presupposition, and it is this presupposition (and its consequences) that makes our situation dissimilar from those of the past. But before we discuss this presupposition, we must unfortunately theorize about art.
The Mechanical and the Existential
What constitutes a work of art? Well, I’m not entirely sure; a work of art is not like a pie, with a set of clearly delineated ingredients transmuted to make a whole. To make the task slightly easier, let’s take a single example: what constitutes the film The Passion of Joan of Arc?
One aspect that can be seen immediately is its formal properties: the iconic close-ups, the low angle shots of harrowing churchmen, the precise movements of the camera; these are the kinds of elements that are revealed directly on the surface. If, say, an alien were to arrive, with no knowledge of the relations of human life, these would be perhaps the only elements we could discuss with them. We could point to the screen: “You see? That is a closeup, see how it is used at such and such a place…” Of course, they would not understand why these formal elements are being used, but they will at least know that they are being used. Perhaps, after decades of watching Dreyer’s films on repeat, we could give our alien a camera, a crew, some cash, and send them out to make a film of their own. The resulting movie will likely have many of the same formal elements, but nevertheless something will be missing from it all, giving the overall film an air of strangeness…We may suggestively call these formal elements the mechanical elements, as they are the only elements of the work which could in principle be reproduced or understood systematically/mechanically.
But after we have exhausted the mechanical, what else is left? Everything that is not mechanical, and thus sundry, nebulous, and hard to describe. These are the elements which we could not teach the alien, because they are not derived from the surface, but instead have their basis in the fact that the work was created, and is appreciated by, some someone who exists, someone who holds subjective experience in a world shared with others. The faith of Joan, the cruelty of the churchmen, the purpose and meaning behind the close-ups and low angles, these cannot be understood without some reference to a subjective existence, and the backdrop of the world upon which it takes meaning.
These kinds of elements of a work cannot survive without reference to subjectivity, that is, to existence. To deny the privilege to reference it is to deny all elements of a work of art, with the exception of the mechanical. We may suggestively call these non mechanical elements of a work its existential elements, as it is the only aspect of a work of art that requires a relationship with subjectivity, without which it dissipates into nothing.
Relating the Mechanical and the Existential
Both aspects, the mechanical and the existential play their role in making a work what it is; neither should be given undue prominence over the other. The mechanical does what the formal is expected to do; these are the definite elements of the work, and they serve to give shape and coherence to the indefinite, the existential, elements which lie beneath the surface. The existential elements, on the other hand, are the points of contact between art and life. Being the only elements with a relationship to existence, it is only through these elements that life, whether it be the experience of an individual or a city or a nation, can seep through and actively affect the creation and reception of a work.
But what good is this? Why does art need the grubby fingerprints of life smeared across it? The reason is simple: because life is the only known source of novelty, and so if there is to be anything truly new in a work, it must have its basis in life, in existence. There may be novelty in the mechanical elements of course (just think of Dreyer’s novel use of the close-up), but formal novelty is always derived from and in service of the existential (because Dreyer used the close-ups for a reason). We may suggestively say then, that the mechanical elements are the engines of order, while the existential elements are the engines of novelty.
A Presupposition
Now let’s return to where we started. There is a presupposition in the collective acceptance of AI art, but what is it? Our ponderous journey above makes this easy to state: it presupposes the wholesale denial of the existential elements in a work of art. The very notion of “AI art” is paradoxical as long as the existential remains a factor, and for this reason it must be denied. This denial may come in the form either of asserting that the existential may be done away with, or that it had never existed as a factor at the start. Either way, the acceptance of AI art and the existential are mutually exclusive notions. They represent the two sides of the choice referenced at the beginning–choice is what it ultimately comes down to. The acceptance or rejection of the existential is not a matter to be resolved with mathematical argument or statistical analysis; that is the domain of the mechanical. It is the domain of individual to choose or reject the existential. Their decision is at the same time a choice about their vision for humanity, and as such, has consequences that resonate throughout all aspects of life…
The Machine Culture
The relationship between art and life is best described as a cycle: life gives breath to art, and art provides ideals to life, creating new reasons to create…and so on. It is a propagating activity, and to a culture almost as basic as the electromagnetic wave. Once the existential has been purged, this cycle will be severed, and life will have no avenues left to influence artistic creation of any kind. How can it, if all the elements that relate to life are gone? Art will be constituted solely of the mechanical. And though it would no longer reflect life, I don’t think its unreasonable to assume that art would still be reflected in life. But life which reflects mechanical art cannot help but be mechanical. It would be a new culture, different in kind and not just degree, one that could aptly be called a “machine culture.” It would be culture entirely populated by the “machine men, with machine minds, and machine hearts”
Cut from life and unable to create novelty, a machine culture does nothing but reproduce statements within its own precisely defined system.