Dear Art World, We Can Tell When You’re Using AI
Institutions, especially well-resourced museums, foundations, and cultural organizations, have no excuse for relying on generative tools instead of paying writers.
Wall labels. Press releases. Artist statements. In today’s fast-paced art world, the written word stands at a crucial crossroads — and the stakes have never been higher. But here’s the thing: It’s not just about convenience. It’s about authenticity. Because the way we express ourselves matters.
The above paragraph was generated by Claude when prompted to write an introduction for an opinion piece against AI use in art writing, and if it made you recoil in your seat, you may be among those of us who have developed a strong aversion to generative text. You’ll know it when you see it: that uncanny cadence that’s overconfident in style yet hollow in substance, like a motivational LinkedIn post that feels relatable at first but leaves you with as much nourishment as a spoonful of Stevia.
People like me, who read, write, and edit words for a living, are perhaps more attuned to the artificial staccato and mawkish pathos of generative text. Still, its growing pervasiveness in the so-called “art world” (the sphere of museums, galleries, fairs, et al.) is undeniable. As an artist friend who recently DM’d me an obviously AI-drafted press release from a well-respected Manhattan institution put it: “Wow, they really have no shame.”
As an editor at Hyperallergic, a publication that has centered the lived experience of artists since its very inception, I am sensitive to the time- and resource-intensive nature of producing written material. The burden of self-promotion placed on artists and cultural workers has become untenable, particularly for those without a gallery or assistant to outsource such tasks to. Artists are spending precious time out of the studio drafting exhibition texts, lengthy grant applications, or social media copy for the online presence that is increasingly expected of them, often with little training and no compensation. It is no surprise that when tools emerge to optimize these duties, creative people will flock to them, not because they do not value the work of writers but because they wish to protect their own artistic labor.
Institutions, on the other hand, especially well-resourced museums, foundations, publications, and other cultural organizations, have no excuse for relying on artificial intelligence for textual materials (and underpaid, overworked museum workers must be given more time and resources to avoid the temptation of delegating original writing to AI). I would also add to that list PR representatives, marketing professionals, or anyone else whose principal responsibility is to communicate adeptly with the public and members of the press. Needless to say, journalists and other writers — who unfortunately face similar conditions of precarity as artists — have a moral responsibility to uphold the integrity of our profession by keeping AI out of the heart of the writing process: crafting original sentences whose form deepens their substance. As Wired elegantly puts it in its own AI guidelines: “We think someone who writes for a living needs to constantly be thinking about the best way to express complex ideas in their own words."