In the AI Era, Your Photos Matter More Than You Think

If you’ve been on social media for longer than, like, one day, you know how much AI slop there is. And not just slop – many “photos” make you stop and think twice or thrice whether they’re real or not. And that’s a problem on many levels. But today, inspired by a video by Max Kent, I want to focus particularly on why it’s a problem from a creative perspective, and why it will never replace the process we have as photographers and/or videographers.

Where the Real Fun’s at

Max recalls the first point-and-shoot camera he used as a kid to take photos of skateboarders. He’d get excited when he thought he’d captured the right moment, like someone doing a kick flip or a board slide down a rail. When the film came back, everyone would look at the prints together. That was the ritual and a shared experience. I remember doing it with classmates and even teachers once I’d get my films from the lab after a school field trip.

Now imagine telling that kid: “One day, a machine will be able to create any image you want in seconds.” Max imagines his response as something like, “Why would I miss out on all the actual fun?” I think I’d be fascinated by the thought, but I’d still want to take photos. What do you mean, a machine will generate silly photos with my classmates?

Both little and adult Max would agree that the actual fun isn’t in having the picture, but being there while capturing it. It’s the going out, exploring, and figuring out what you want that makes it worthwhile. Frankly, both little Dunja and adult Dunja would agree, too.

[Related Reading: PSA: Beware of AI Wedding Photography Portfolios]

Flow

There’s a word for what happens when you’re really absorbed in making something: it’s called flow. I remember even discussing it in college, and how being in the flow is beneficial for our well-being. Put simply, flow is the feeling where you’re not thinking about anything else: you’re completely concentrated on a task ahead of you. Hours pass, and you don’t even notice. You’re connected to what you’re doing, and all your focus flows in one direction.

Well, this feeling of “being in the zone” isn’t something a prompt typed into a machine can create. The machine can make an image, sure. But there’s no flow. And that feeling is probably why humans have been creating for centuries. It was never for the outcome alone, but for that specific, indescribable state of being completely present and lost in what you’re making.

I love that Max calls it what I often call it too: it’s play. It’s the closest to the feeling we had as children when we were deeply submerged in our play. And as Max would put it, “How many other opportunities as an adult do you actually get to do something that isn’t just to earn money?”

Real photography gives you that. And when I say “real,” I mean the one where you’re out in the world, experimenting, failing, adjusting, failing again, learning from your mistakes and just… Playing with your camera.

[Related Reading: Back to Human Connection: Is It Time to Say Goodbye to Generative AI?]

The Discovery in Failure

Speaking of learning and failing, this is another thing that This is the part separates art from generative AI. When you have an idea for a photo (or a song, painting, illustration, or anything else, for that matter), that’s the bare minimum. Everyone has ideas.

But the actual work is executing it. And execution doesn’t mean just typing it into a program and perhaps adjusting the prompts a few times until you get the desired result. Executing your idea is where the learning happens.

Let’s stick with photography. You think you want to shoot something one way. You go out and try, and discover that’s actually not what you wanted. You adjust, try again, try something else, find something different. And whatever you find, it’s yours – your hands and your mind made it.

That process failure, adjustment, discovery, and learning is inseparable from making art. Each time you solve a problem, you learn something and expand your skill. You feel accomplished and proud of yourself, and along with that flow we mentioned above, this feeling of accomplishment is nourishing for your soul.

Needless to say (but here I am saying it anyway), all of this applies to any hobby and any artwork. Max shares that he recently started doing woodworking. Not to sell it or anything, but just for the pleasure of having another creative hobby. He noticed that the value isn’t in the finished coffee table. It’s in sanding it down for forty-five minutes and figuring out what to do next, and in growing and learning week by week. Since I have a bunch of creative hobbies, I can completely relate.

So, the next time you scroll Instagram and see these endlessly perfect, impossible images that all look the same and feel hollow, remember what you’re actually looking at. It’s outcomes without process, and content without creation. And no matter how technically flawless most AI images look today, if we look, and I mean, truly look at them, I think we can feel that there’s no human soul behind them.

Real experiences, connections, even frustrations; real trials and errors, real struggles, creative rushes and creative ruts: that’s not something you can prompt your way into. That’s something you have to feel. And that, ultimately, is what makes photography so enjoyable and why we still hold onto it even if our images are less technically polished than AI ones.

Make sure to watch the entire video; it’s a bit longer, but Max makes so many great points that I’d need ten articles to cram them all in. Enjoy, and then go create something! :)

[The AI Photography Problem Is Worse Than You Think | Max Kent]

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