AI is like a knife
It could be dangerous in the wrong hands
The conversation around AI currently feels quite black and white: you’re either for it or against it. You either fully embrace it or you think everyone using it is a talentless fool. But like many things in life, there’s a big grey area when it comes to AI. Some uses I think are fantastic, others I prefer to stay far away from. I think it’s time we start approaching AI with more nuance.
As someone who thinks in images, I have a soft spot for metaphors — I’m sure that doesn’t come as a surprise. While reflecting on AI, I came up with the following one: AI is like a knife. Did that image make you flinch? That probably says something about your associations with knives. Did you picture bloody incidents where people get hurt? Or the cutlery you use every day to spread something on your toast and slice your fruit and vegetables? And keep in mind: a knife doesn’t just cut — you can also use it to carve, shape, decorate. It’s the same with AI: it’s not just a production tool, but an extension of your hands, your head, and sometimes even your heart.
And that’s exactly what fascinates me: a knife isn’t inherently good or bad. The value (or the danger) lies in the hand that holds it, and in the purpose it’s used for. Same with AI. You can use it to do terribly harmful things (which, just like with knives, I’m absolutely against), or you can use it to create something beautiful. Think of a chef in a Michelin-starred kitchen. Or of slicing an apple as a snack for someone you love. Or the salad you chop up to take care of yourself. AI as a tool, as an extension of whatever it is you want to bring into the world and that’s the image I prefer to hold on to.
Not everything you cut with a knife is instantly Michelin-worthy, or even restaurant-quality. It’s the combination of everything you do that turns something into a high-level dish, the kind that top critics would call unforgettable. And of course, cooking involves much more than cutting alone. It’s the preparation, the ingredients, the layering of flavours, and often the full concept of a menu: which dishes follow one another? What’s the best amuse-bouche? The perfect dessert? Where does the balance lie between all the courses?
And it’s the same with the work I create using AI. I always start with a concept, and often a plan for the scenes I want to develop — all of it comes from within, shaped by things I’ve experienced. All my work is tied to something personal: an experience, a thought, a feeling, a what-if scenario, a fantasy or a need — or a combination of those. I think about what I want to express, how I want to express it, and why. Then comes the prompt-writing: figuring out the exact wording to get what I’m after, not to mention the many failed attempts it takes to arrive at the right image (a process known as ‘prompt engineering’).
To be able to prompt in my own style, I’ve trained my own algorithms. That’s how I created a visual language I can continue to use and evolve. And then there’s always a Photoshop phase: cleaning up strange details, tidying the image, correcting colour, and sometimes adding extra effects.
And even that is just part of it. This is the simplified version of the process; there are many more things to consider, like storytelling (both in image and in text, for example in the caption of a social media post), curation, image selection, and art direction. It’s a big thought-and-making process: a cluster of all kinds of large and small decisions, steps and choices.
Just like you shouldn’t run with a knife, you shouldn’t do that with AI either. It’s something to use with care. Think about why you’re using it, and in what way. Also be aware of how sharp you want to sharpen the knife. The sharper it gets, the more powerful it becomes and the more important it is to know what you’re doing.
I’d suggest not using AI (too often) like a kind of pre-packaged salad where you quickly toss in a bell pepper for some extra vitamins. That might be convenient, but if you want to make something that really stands out, it usually asks for more. For attention, for an idea, and for those few extra, intentional steps.
So make that image with all your imagination. And write that email yourself, as well as you can. And if you really doubt the tone or the wording, you can always ask AI to help. AI is your assistant, not the one doing the thinking.
All the best,
Noëlle
Among other things, this was playing in the background while writing:
Join my not-so-regular newsletter for reflections on art, AI, process, and the space between fantasy and reality. I write about what I make, why I make it, and what I’m still figuring out. Also: books, music, films, and the occasional possessed sheep.