Sameness as a Service (SaaS)
In 1944, Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer lamented a chilling development in their seminal work Dialectic of Enlightenment. They argued that the “culture industry” transformed art into a mechanical process of mass production. Art became product, innovation became formula, and audiences were conditioned to accept recycled ideas repackaged as “new.”
https://www.sup.org/books/theory-and-philosophy/dialectic-enlightenment
“The culture industry perpetually cheats its consumers of what it perpetually promises.”
They argued that medias such as television, radio, movies and music, which were layered with repetitive ideological symbology; thus, reinforcing the status quo in their respective industries. Herein lies the danger, when influential entertainment and consumables industries customise cultural ideologies as they see fit - doing the thinking of people for them - docility and passivity cultivates within society.
Fast forward to the age of AI, and their critique echoes louder than ever. From workplace productivity to art and advertising, AI tools are ushering in a new kind of culture industry. There is a key difference that’s important to point out up front. Adorno and Horkheimer were critiquing one-way entertainment mediums for passively feeding prepackaged ideologies to a docile audience, whereas the creator economy’s use of AI shifts this dynamic, offering tools for individual expression. But the result is largely the same, because while AI promises efficiency, democratisation, and endless creative possibilities, it comes at the cost of saturation, sameness, and a creeping homogenisation of culture.
The Allure of AI in Modern Creativity
AI tools like ChatGPT and DALL·E have opened creative doors to many. They can whip up a poem, paint a digital masterpiece, or draft an article in moments. But the magic trick lies in how these tools function. They’re pattern-seeking machines, trained on vast oceans of existing work to predict what comes next.
This reliance on patterns is a double-edged sword. On one side, it means AI can quickly replicate styles, genres, and aesthetics that have already proven popular. On the other, it shackles AI to the past, leaving little room for the disruptive originality.
Take AI-generated art. Platforms like DALL·E have flooded the internet with striking portraits—baroque-inspired faces in glowing cyberpunk hues or dreamy, surrealist landscapes. They’re impressive at first glance but, simultaneously, eerily familiar. Why? Because they are composites of what already exists, not genuine creative leaps. So much colour, yet it all looks beige.
Adorno and Horkheimer might see this as the culture industry’s evolution into hyperdrive: a world where algorithms endlessly remix the same cultural detritus under the guise of creativity. Or, as they put it, where:
“Under monopoly all mass culture is identical, and the lines of its artificial framework begin to show through.”
The Corporate Clone Factory
Tools like Grammarly, Jasper, and Canva certainly streamline tasks and pump up productivity, promising a better, faster, more polished output. But here’s the rub: in pursuing the polished, we risk sanding down everything unique.
Consider the proliferation of LinkedIn posts churned out by AI writing assistants. The feed is flooded with suspiciously familiar updates like:
“🚀 Big news! Grateful to announce I’m leveraging AI to unlock synergies and catalyse innovation. #Humbled #GrowthMindset #Disruption”
Uses like these create an environment where everyone speaks in the same corporate buzzword dialect. The quirkiness, personality, charm (and even typos) that define authentic communication are slowly squeezed out in favour of inoffensive, algorithm-approved blandness.
Canva has been a genuinely revolutionary and positive tool. It’s a lifesaver for presentations and designs for those of us who don’t have the patience or budget for Adobe Suite, but it’s also responsible for the ubiquitous minimalist gradient + sans serif aesthetic that has swallowed the professional world whole. It’s the same look over and over: clean, polished, and utterly forgettable echo chamber aesthetics.
When Art Imitates…Art?
Art and creativity; the supposed bastions of individuality. AI-generated art often replicates existing styles, but it doesn’t disrupt norms or push boundaries. Instead, it feeds on what already exists, remixing the familiar into something that looks innovative but feels hollow.
AI-generated music, like pop’s most formulaic hits, is often a pre-packaged experience. It’s catchy, maybe even enjoyable, but it certainly doesn’t challenge the listener.
In his posthumous publication Aesthetic Theory, Adorno writes of how true art is emotionally and mentally confronting, it challenges the observer to think and feel, rather than it conforming to the masses in their atrophied state.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/85818.Aesthetic_Theory
The New Culture Industry
AI is efficient, scalable, and capable of producing content that aligns perfectly with consumer tastes. But its reliance on what Adorno and Horkheimer called “pre-digested” forms of creativity creates a self-reinforcing loop.
Social media algorithms are perhaps the clearest example. Platforms like TikTok and Instagram push content that aligns with trends, nudging creators to conform if they want visibility. AI feeds into this system, churning out perfectly curated posts that feel safe but uninspired.
And it’s no better for the consumer, who aren’t introduced by these algorithms to discover anything new, or alternative. Rather, recommendations and the next-up scrolling approach perpetually feed them a steady diet of sameness.
The Meme-ification of Culture
It might surprise you that the word meme—now the internet’s favourite pastime—was coined by evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins in his 1976 book The Selfish Gene, as part of his musings on how cultural ideas evolve and spread in a way analogous to biological genes.
https://www.vice.com/en/article/talking-to-the-guy-who-invented-the-word-meme-richard-dawkins/
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61535.The_Selfish_Gene
Dawkins coined the term from the Greek word mimeme (meaning imitation), simplifying it to meme to align with the brevity of gene. He used the concept to describe how ideas, behaviours, and cultural artefacts spread from person to person, evolving and competing for survival in the cultural ecosystem. Just as genes transmit biological traits, memes transmit cultural ideas—be it a catchy tune, a fashion trend, or a proverb.
He envisioned memes as a lens to understand cultural evolution, where successful memes were those that replicated and adapted effectively. However, he also acknowledged that this replication was not inherently tied to quality or value; memes thrived simply by their ability to propagate.
AI’s WALL-E Moment
In Pixar’s WALL-E, humanity’s reliance on technology reduces them to passive, screen-gazing passengers, floating through space on an endless cruise. It’s a striking image of a society that’s lost its spark of individuality and purpose, trading vitality for comfort and convenience. In many ways, our growing dependence on AI for creativity feels like a cultural parallel.
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0910970/
https://osf.io/7fawu/download/?format=pdf
Like the passengers aboard the Axiom spaceship, we risk becoming passive consumers of ideas rather than active participants in their creation.
Much like WALL-E’s humans, who consume pre-packaged meals without thought or effort, we’re increasingly fed pre-digested culture. AI systems churn out content calibrated to match our preferences—whether it’s Netflix recommendations, TikTok trends, or AI-generated artworks—and we, in turn, consume it without question.
Avoiding the AI Cruise Control
But WALL-E also offers hope. The titular robot, with his quirky personality and defiance of his programming, embodies the human spirit at its best: curious, resourceful, and unafraid to challenge the status quo. Like WALL-E, we too can push back against the passive consumption AI tempts us into.
Adorno and Horkheimer offered subtle pathways for resistance through autonomy, critical thinking, and creations that provoke, not pacify. Today, that means using AI intentionally—less as a shortcut, more as a springboard.
Can AI Be a Force for Creative Diversity?
Musicians like Holly Herndon have used AI to push boundaries, training algorithms on their own voices to create otherworldly compositions. Writers are using AI to overcome creative blocks, sparking ideas they might not have reached alone. When paired with human intuition, AI has the potential to amplify creativity rather than stifle it.
https://www.instagram.com/holly_herndon/?hl=en
https://www.forbes.com/sites/nargessbanks/2024/10/05/artists-holly-herndon-and-mat-dryhurst-explore-ai-artmaking-at-serpentine/
But this requires a conscious effort. As businesses and creators, we must resist the temptation of convenience and prioritise originality over efficiency. As Adorno and Horkheimer remind us, true art doesn’t pander to its audience—it challenges them.
And that’s something no algorithm (yet) can truly replicate.
What’s Your Take?
Is AI fuelling or dimming your creative fire?
How would you design AI to generate something genuinely new?
