When Machines Mimic Minds: The Crisis of Authorship in the Age of AI

How do we know that this article wasn't written by artificial intelligence? You may trust the rhythm, the subtlety of the argument, or the lack of robotic phrasing. But here's a more profound question: can we ever be sure that the logic behind these words was born in a human brain—or was it simply sewn together by an algorithm?

For centuries, creative work—writing, painting, or philosophizing—has been bound up in human struggle and refinement. Creativity is not just about product; it's the process, the struggle with ideas, the late nights, the flashes of insight. Invention has always been imbued with work and sense.

Technology devices have always complemented this work, never replaced it. The calculator sped up arithmetic; the typewriter sped up writing. But these machines never had the audacity to take on the role of authorship.

Generative AI revolutionizes everything. Large language models can now generate essays, paintings, and sophisticated ideas at the speed of lightning, skipping the path of creation that lends art and thought their depth. What we have is a refined product—but one cut from the sweat that used to infuse it with authenticity.

Immanuel Kant's perspective on genius—as talent providing rules to art rather than following rules—is a reminder that authentic creativity is about giving birth to the new, not recombining the old. Generative AI, on the other hand, is an imitator: it rearranges patterns from data, regardless of how spectacular the outcome.

And here is the existential paradox. As AI increases in power, we move toward a time when the distinction between human and machine creation is erased beyond distinction. The act of creation is at risk of being boiled down to choosing from a menu of machine options—certainly not the same as the labored process of imposing meaning upon the void.

Yes, AI is a tool. And unlike any other, it undermines the very nature of what it means to create. As we adopt its usefulness, let's not forget what's at risk: the rich human act of authorship, and the unforgivable loss of labor in giving something meaning into the world.