The Myth of Authorship in the Age of AI

The myth of solitary authorship has been a cornerstone of creative work. From the "directed by" credit in films to the name on the spine of a novel, we’ve celebrated the myth of the lone genius crafting worlds out of thin air. Brilliant creators like Spielberg, Kojima, or Rowling give an audience someone to connect with.

This myth thrives because it feeds into a clean narrative. People love stories, and the story of one creative genius toiling away is compelling. It reduces the complexity of hundreds (or even thousands) of contributors into a digestible hero’s journey: the visionary director, the renegade writer, the brilliant designer.

In truth, it’s always been a half-truth. No film director gets it done without an army of department heads and crew. No game designer builds a AAA title on their own. The marketing can’t focus on the hundreds of artists, editors, and coders because audiences simply don’t have the attention bandwidth to care.

But what if AI tools eventually push this marketing myth into an authentic attribution?

Now, one person could feasibly generate entire worlds using generative tools. They could create models, textures, scripts, and soundtracks, all without a traditional "team." In this new world, the lone creator archetype might feel more plausible than ever while being even further from the truth.

Who deserves credit when the tool is doing much of the heavy lifting? If a creator uses AI to generate a landscape, character designs, or even dialogue, does that make them less of an artist? Does the value lie in the tool, the prompt, or the creative choices made afterward?

For Example…

A scribbler - let’s call her Mia - is crafting her first feature film. Instead of working with a team, Mia uses AI to generate the visuals of her characters, the setting of her scenes, and even a draft of the dialogue. But Mia doesn’t stop there. She tweaks the AI’s outputs, reshapes the narrative, and layers her own emotional insight into every decision.

In the end, her film feels deeply personal, yet it’s the product of countless algorithms trained on massive datasets. So, who is the true creator here? Mia, the AI developers, or the collective knowledge embedded in the AI’s training data? The myth of authorship isn’t disappearing; it’s evolving.

Myth of Authorship Reimagined

The Curator: A future creator might be seen less as a maker and more as a curator of AI outputs. Their artistry lies in what they choose to include, exclude, and refine.

The Orchestrator: Much like a conductor leads a symphony of musicians, creators may orchestrate a collection of AI systems, ensuring their outputs align with a singular vision.

The Mythmaker: Marketing might embrace this shift, positioning creators as visionaries of technology, blending human intuition with machine precision.

The tools might change, but the need for visionary creators to guide, inspire, and innovate will not. The artistry lies in our choices. What we include, exclude, and refine. Authorship in the age of AI might be less about doing everything solo and more about curating, orchestrating, and guiding a creative process, which is what some of our most lauded creators have been doing throughout their careers.

Remember, you’re not facing the blank page alone. You have your scribbler’s toolbox. So, ABS. Always. Be. Scribbling.