Holding the line in art

By Noel Galon de Leon

This essay is my personal response, shaped by both conviction and caution, and by a dream that I believe we can responsibly pursue in the coming years when it comes to the use of artificial intelligence. As we celebrate National Arts Month in the Philippines, I am aware that some friends and colleagues may be surprised by my position. I am openly in favor of using AI in the arts, but only within clear ethical, cultural, and human boundaries.

My support for AI does not come from blind enthusiasm for technology. It comes from a desire to understand how tools evolve and how artists, institutions, and communities can adapt without losing their soul. Arts Month is precisely the right time to raise these questions, because art is where our values are tested most honestly.

Before anything else, we need to clarify what we mean when we say artificial intelligence. AI refers to computer systems designed to simulate aspects of human intelligence such as learning, pattern recognition, language processing, and decision making. It is not a mind, not a consciousness, and not a replacement for human imagination.

At its best, AI is an assistant. It is built to help humans process information faster, generate options, and reduce repetitive labor. It does not feel, remember, suffer, or dream. Any meaning it appears to produce is borrowed from the vast archive of human-created data it was trained on.

The danger begins when we forget this distinction. When AI is treated as a substitute for human thinking rather than a support for it, we risk flattening creativity into efficiency. Art, however, is not meant to be efficient. It is meant to be difficult, emotional, slow, and sometimes unprofitable.

In the Philippine context, AI is still relatively new, especially outside major urban and corporate spaces. Over the last few years, Filipinos have encountered AI through writing tools, image generators, chatbots, marketing software, and automated design platforms. Its spread has been fast, uneven, and largely unregulated.

Many Filipinos use AI out of necessity rather than ideology. Small businesses, freelancers, students, and organizations often turn to AI because of limited budgets, tight deadlines, and lack of access to professional services. In this sense, AI reflects existing inequalities rather than creating entirely new ones.

In Iloilo in particular, AI has quietly entered the workflows of agencies, organizations, and creative groups. It is used for marketing collaterals, social media captions, poster drafts, event promotions, and even branding experiments. These uses are often pragmatic, driven by speed and cost.

Among Ilonggos, AI has become a tool for visibility. Companies and organizations use it to promote celebrations, festivals, and products, especially online. AI-generated visuals are sometimes used as placeholders, sometimes as final outputs, often without much discussion about authorship or ethics.

This brings us to the central issue. The problem is not the existence of AI, but the absence of dialogue around its use. In the Philippines, discussions about AI often focus on productivity and innovation, while questions of labor, authorship, consent, and cultural respect remain secondary.

Artists across the country have raised concerns about AI models trained on artworks without permission. Others worry about job displacement, the devaluation of creative labor, and the erosion of artistic skill. These concerns are not anti-technology. They are pro-human.

There is also a growing fear that AI normalizes shortcuts. When creative processes are reduced to prompts and outputs, we risk forgetting the discipline, struggle, and lived experience behind real art. Culture becomes content, and content becomes disposable.

From my personal perspective, there is nothing inherently wrong with using AI as an assistant. What is wrong is surrendering control. Artists must remain the authors, the editors, and the final decision makers. AI should respond to artistic vision, not dictate it.

AI can be a source of ideas, references, and initial studies. It can help generate rough sketches, concept directions, or visual drafts. But it should never be allowed to produce an entire artwork that is then presented as finished art without human transformation.

The final work must still carry the artist’s hand, style, and intention. The imperfections, choices, and risks taken by the artist are what make art human. Without these, the output may look impressive, but it will remain hollow.

This principle becomes even more important in a city like Iloilo. Iloilo is culturally alive, with a strong center for arts and culture, and with artists who are recognized both locally and internationally. This is a city that prides itself on creativity and heritage.

In such a place, the careless use of AI becomes more than a technical choice. It becomes a cultural statement. When organizations choose AI over local artists for something as simple as a poster, they send a message about whose labor they value.

It feels disrespectful to celebrate artists in exhibitions, murals, and festivals, while sidelining them in everyday creative needs. You cannot praise art in public and replace artists in private without revealing a contradiction.

The question must be asked honestly. Why use AI when there are artists you can collaborate with? Why prioritize convenience over community, speed over solidarity, and automation over relationship?

Supporting artists is not just about awards and recognition. It is about hiring them, paying them fairly, and trusting their vision. Cultural respect is measured in practice, not in slogans.

This does not mean banning AI from artistic spaces. It means setting ethical boundaries. Institutions, agencies, and cultural bodies must create clear guidelines about when and how AI can be used, especially in publicly funded or culturally significant projects.

Education is also crucial. Artists and non-artists alike need to understand what AI can and cannot do. Fear often comes from ignorance, while abuse often comes from indifference. Both can be addressed through open discussion.

National Arts Month should not only celebrate finished works. It should also confront the systems that shape how art is produced today. AI is now part of that system, whether we like it or not.

The challenge before us is balance. We must balance innovation with integrity, efficiency with empathy, and technology with tradition. The future of art should not be decided by algorithms alone, but by communities that care about meaning.

I remain hopeful. AI can be a tool that serves artists rather than replaces them, if we choose to use it wisely. The responsibility lies with us, not the machine. In honoring art, we must always honor the human first.