Authenticity has long been prized currency in design.
We romanticize the handmade, the human touch, the spark of originality that can’t be replicated. But as generative AI becomes mainstream, a new question is emerging: What happens when consumers no longer care who made the work? And perhaps more profoundly, what does “authenticity” really mean?
Right now, that question is fueling an identity crisis among designers, artists, and creators. Consider the debate about the glut of Studio Ghibli–inspired images that flooded the Internet recently, all thanks to ChatGPT’s image generator. Some called them beautiful. Others called them theft. Still others shrugged. That last group may be worth paying attention to.
Because what if they’re right? What if, as AI becomes mainstay and everyday, we’ll stop asking whether something was crafted by hand or a human or synthesized by a model, and instead start judging authenticity based solely on resonance?
It sounds radical, but we’ve been here before. Just think about the Bauhaus movement of the early 20th century—born from an idealistic belief in craftsmanship that later embraced the power of industrial design. It was a turning point.
Craft didn’t vanish, but it was no longer the gold standard—nor the only standard. Thoughtful, systematized design—machine-ready, scalable, replicable—became a new kind of authenticity. And we may very well be living through an equivalent transformation today.
The AI-generated normal
For decades, digital tools have steadily abstracted us from the design process. We don’t carve or stitch. We click, drag, and refine. Generative AI takes this one step further: We prompt. A few well-chosen words, and the machine renders something potentially breathtaking in seconds.
At first, the novelty of that was the point, but we’re moving past novelty now. As AI-generated content floods our screens—advertising, music, branding, product designs—the question could soon switch from “can it be done?” to “does it matter who did it?”
Consumers are sending mixed signals. A joint study from Carnegie Mellon University and the University of California-Santa Barbara revealed that participants favored content labeled as “human generated” above identical content labeled as “AI generated” by a preference score of more than 30%. Coca-Cola’s recent AI-produced holiday ad was widely criticized as “soulless”, although it’s worth noting that the ad was initially praised until the use of AI became known. On the other hand, scroll through TikTok or Instagram and you’ll find millions of likes on AI-created images, many of them indistinguishable from hand-drawn illustrations. And Tencent has achieved millions of streams from AI-generated musicians.
Meanwhile, Gen Z is growing up in a world where AI is part of the creative toolkit. In fact, Gen Z is very comfortable with brands that use AI influencers. When the end product is entertaining, engaging, or emotionally resonant, the backstory of how it came to be matters less.
That’s not a flaw in their thinking. It’s an evolution of expectations.
Rethinking authenticity
We often talk about authenticity as if it were fixed: handmade, slow, human. But authenticity has always been about perception—about whether something feels real and true to its purpose. In an AI era, that perception may be shifting.
What if we stop defining authenticity by origin and start defining it by impact? What if the metric isn’t “Was this made by a person?” but “Does this connect with me?”
That shift doesn’t mean we throw out transparency, nor does it sideline the role of people. In fact, emotional truth—the sense that something speaks to our values, aspirations, or lived experience—may make human involvement more important than ever in order to drive impact. But humans might not be the sole creators crafting every detail, instead being curators, guides, or the conscience shaping what AI creates.
Transparency may become the new baseline for authenticity. Brands that are honest about their use of AI—and clear about where and how human creativity is involved—will likely win more trust. According to a recent RWS study, 62% of consumers said they would trust brands more if they were upfront about their use of AI.
So no, trust doesn’t require a human auteur behind every design. But it does require clarity of intent, emotional intelligence, and consistency of values—qualities that may still originate with people, even if they’re delivered through or with a system trained on human expression.
Design’s next reckoning
For designers, this is a hard pill to swallow. Many entered the profession driven by personal vision, artistic expression, or a reverence for process. The idea that an AI model could bypass all of that and still make something meaningful can feel like an existential threat. But it doesn’t have to be.
It’s not about choosing between human and machine. It’s about defining what the future of design values most.
Designers still bring irreplaceable skills to the table—strategic thinking, cultural insight, brand sensitivity. The best use of AI in design may not be to replace those skills but to extend them. To use AI as a co-creator, not a competitor. To shape prompts, steer outputs, and ensure that every pixel still carries intention.
So, will authenticity still matter? Yes—but maybe not in the way we’ve traditionally understood it. The era of AI-assisted design challenges us to evolve our definition of authenticity. It’s no longer about the maker. It’s about the meaning. About whether the work resonates, reflects your values, and speaks to the moment.
The machines are here. They’re part of our creative landscape now. But what they produce doesn’t have to be generic or soulless. With the right guidance—and the right perspective—AI can be a powerful tool for creating designs that feel more human than ever.
The real question isn’t whether authenticity will matter. It’s whether we’re ready to redefine it.