Art is not just an aesthetic indulgence; it is a deeply personal and emotional expression of the human experience. Every brushstroke, every frame, and every line tells a story — one that carries the weight of culture, history, and personal struggles. But today, art is being reduced to a mere social media trend, mass-produced with a single click.
The latest wave of AI-generated “Ghibli-style” images flooding platforms like X (formerly Twitter) has reignited a crucial debate: Where does inspiration end and infringement begin? This trend gained traction after OpenAI CEO Sam Altman updated his profile picture to a Ghibli-style AI-generated image, sparking widespread fascination. AI tools now offer an effortless way to replicate not just the Ghibli aesthetic but also Pixar, caricatures, comic art, and other distinct styles. Yet, in this celebration of convenience, we risk undermining the very essence of art.
At the heart of copyright law lies the idea-expression dichotomy. Consider a simple example: The idea of a young wizard attending a magical school cannot be copyrighted, but JK Rowling’s specific expression of that idea — Harry Potter’s world with its distinct characters, settings, and narrative — is protected. This fundamental distinction now faces new challenges in the age of generative AI.
Similarly, the Ghibli style, if seen as a broad thematic or artistic concept, may not be subject to copyright under Indian law. However, if an AI-generated image directly copies elements from an existing Ghibli film — such as a frame from Grave of the Fireflies — it constitutes clear copyright infringement. Yet, using a general Ghibli-style aesthetic to generate an entirely new work falls into a legal grey area. This loophole highlights the urgent need for legal reform in the age of generative AI.
AI doesn’t create from nothing; it gathers and repurposes existing data, much of which comes from human-made art. When an AI model generates a so-called “original” piece, it is essentially remixing thousands of pre-existing works, including those by artists who never consented to their work being used. What’s worse, OpenAI and similar platforms openly label these outputs as “Ghibli-style” without any formal agreement with Studio Ghibli itself. A style that takes years of craftsmanship to perfect is now being generated in seconds — with no credit to the original artists.
This raises serious ethical and legal concerns. Imagine spending a lifetime developing your artistic identity, only to find that an AI model has absorbed your style and made it instantly accessible to anyone without your permission. Your work, born from years of dedication, is now just another preset option in an app.
Aspiring artists already face immense challenges in pursuing a career in design and art. Many parents and educators dismiss these fields as impractical, preferring more “stable” career paths. Now, AI is reinforcing the notion that art is not a serious profession — that creativity can be automated, making artistic careers obsolete.
The damage doesn’t stop at perception. Many professional artists rely on their craft for a living. AI-generated art is rapidly devaluing their work, making it harder for them to sell original pieces when cheap (or free) AI alternatives flood the market. The creative industry, which already struggles with fair compensation, is now facing an existential threat.
True creativity isn’t just a collection of brushstrokes or digital tools — it is a deeply human process shaped by emotions, culture, and lived experiences. For an artist, their paintings are an outlet for their emotions, a way to process the world. AI-generated art, however, lacks this emotional depth. It is soulless, stripped of the vulnerability and passion that make human-made art so powerful.
Reducing art to an AI-generated commodity doesn’t just hurt artists; it hurts society. Art has always been a reflection of human emotions, struggles, and triumphs. It has shaped cultures, documented history, and given a voice to the voiceless. If we allow AI to take over artistic expression without safeguards, we risk losing something profoundly irreplaceable.
The law must evolve to protect artists from AI exploitation by ensuring that generative AI platforms obtain proper consent and licensing agreements before using someone’s work. Artists should have the right to opt out of having their art fed into AI models. Additionally, there should be clear legal consequences for companies that profit off stolen artistic styles without attribution or compensation.
At its core, intellectual property law exists to protect human creativity. Hayao Miyazaki, the legendary artist behind Studio Ghibli, spent decades perfecting his craft — his style is not just an aesthetic but a lifetime of labour and artistic vision. The law should recognise this and prevent AI companies from erasing the distinction between inspiration and theft.
We must ask ourselves: Do we want a world where art is reduced to an algorithm, where human creativity is seen as disposable? Or do we want to protect and nurture the artists who shape our culture and history?
If we do nothing, we risk discouraging an entire generation of budding creators, convincing them that their passion is not worth pursuing. The future of art depends on us standing up for those who create — not just those who generate.
Saraogi is an artist and the founder & creative director at D RefleQtion, a Mumbai-based branding agency. Roy is an Advocate and research fellow at Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy, New Delhi. Views are personal
