No Feeling for Human or Humanoid Dignity

Panels from “Space Falcon, Pirate of the Stratosphere” written and drawn by Harry Harrison.
In these panels, Falcon and Tubby imprison slavers Cassandra (and her associate), and rescue the half-dressed men who she has enslaved.

Currently, both the Writers Guild of America (WGA) and the Screen Actors Guild, plus the American Federation of Television and Radio Actors (SAG-AFTRA), are on strike.
Until the unions work out a deal with the Alliance of Motion Pictures and Television Producers (AMPTP) all TV and film productions, involving their members, will be halted.
Novelist and screenwriter, George R.R. Martin, recently said on Comic Book Resources (CBR.com) that a producer was quoted as saying that “AMPTP strategy is to stand fast until the writers start losing their homes and apartments.”
It looks as if this is going to be a long, long strike.

I recently retired from the world of design and print production, and I also paint and draw.
It seems to me that fine artists and book production people have some things in common with the writers and actors working in film and TV.
We’re all people who love what we do, more than we love making money.
Because we feel this way, we’re at a serious disadvantage in dealing with people “in charge,” whose sole business is generating money from our skill sets.

When I was a design and print production artist, I sometimes worked with managers who seemed almost resentful of artists.
Just like Alfred Hitchcock, who wanted his actors to be willing tools for his vision, these managers wanted artists to simply become their hands.
We’re at the threshold of editors using art-generating AI programs (like Midjourney and DALL-E.2, built from billions of images created by artists) to replace artists.
I remember dealing with several managers and editors who must love this development.
Now, by using AI, they can cut “prima donna” artists out of the illustration process completely!

Panels from “Captain Rocket,” written and drawn by Harry Harrison.

There’s a pattern of men being paralyzed, or held prisoner, in Harry Harrison stories.

Was Harrison subconsciously illustrating his position as a “wage slave?”

In 1964, Harry Harrison (1925-2012) wrote a science fiction short story “Portrait of the Artist,” that nicely describes just such a control-freak manager.
(Perhaps, the story is so perfect because Harrison was a centaur of sorts—an artist, and a writer.)
Note that the 1960’s were way before computer software was used for page composition.
(Programs that preceded InDesign weren’t in play until the 1980’s.)
The 60’s were the days of blue pencil, rubber cement, and India ink plus zip-a-tone on paper board.
In the future envisioned by Harrison, however, computers are drawing comic books, and have also taken over many service jobs.

In “Portrait of the Artist,” an experienced (read “older”) comic book illustrator named Pachs—who for years has used a Mark VIII Robot Comic Artist computer—is called into his manager’s office, and realizes that Martin is about to fire him. Martin says:

I’m going to have to let you go, Pachs. I’ve bought a Mark IX to cut expenses, and I already hired some kid to run it. . . You know I’m no bastard, Pachs, but business is business. And I’ll tell you what, this is only Tuesday, still I’m gonna pay you for the rest of the week. How’s that? And you can take off right now.

Pachs conceals his emotions, and leaves to get very drunk at a bar near the office.
(The bartender is an affable robot, with an Irish accent.)
I won’t spoil the tragic ending, but Harrison’s story concludes with Martin revealing his disrespect for Pachs as an artist, employee, and human being.

Sol Roth (Edward G. Robinson) undergoes euthanasia—first step in the process of becoming Soylent Green. His friend Detective Thorn (Charlton Heston) is in the window.
In Charles Platt’s interview book with science fiction icons (Dream Makers Volume II), subject Harry Harrison tells Platt that his book Make Room! Make Room! was debased into the film Soylent Green.

After Harry Harrison fought in WWII, he returned to New York to study fine art.
He soon realized that it would be impossible to support himself as a fine artist, so he pivoted to comic book illustration and writing.
That was a good choice until the Comics Code hit, and publishers cut production by two-thirds.
By that time, Harrison had married and started a family, so he pivoted once again, to become a full-time independent author.
He’s best known for The Stainless Steel Rat book series, the DeathWorld book series, and the novel Make Room! Make Room! (that MGM purchased for Soylent Green).

AI-generated scripts for sit-coms, AI-created background actors in films, and AI-produced illustrations in magazines have a lot in common.
The purpose of each is to save time and money, but each also result in impoverishing the very people who originated the raw material.
The present systems undervalue the artists, and overvalue the overseers, who want creatives to act as their tools.

Detectives Matthew Sikes (Gary Graham) and George Francisco (Eric Pierpoint) help policeman Albert Einstein (Jeffrey Marcus) in the TV version of Alien Nation.

(The word “overseers” brings back fond memories of one of my favorite TV shows, Alien Nation.*
This series was cancelled in 1990, after 22 episodes, because its’ theme of accepting diversity was too controversial, and TV executives didn’t understand the show’s value.)

Managers obsessed with control, and executives obsessed with saving money, aren’t the only issues involved in more use of AI.
Writers, actors, and designers are also worried about quality.
We already live in a world in which network execs dumb down scripts because they underestimate viewer intelligence.
Just imagine what TV shows would be like if executives had full control over scripts.

It's difficult for many retired production and design people to look at new books and magazines these days.
We see “widows” (incomplete, one, or two, word lines) at the tops of pages and columns—once a real no-no.
Indexes (if there are indexes at all) are software-generated; they list every term and name in the text, but not the substantive information.
Pixelated images—that should have been swapped out for high-resolution images—are everywhere.
Layouts that may have looked OK on a monitor, are unreadable on the printed page.
We’re living in an era of “good enough” color reproduction, and “good enough” printing.

I assume that the family of Anthony Bourdain gave permission for his voice to be voice cloned in 2021’s Roadrunner: A Film About Anthony Bourdain.
I guess that the family of Wilt Chamberlain permitted Chamberlain’s voice to be voice cloned in the three-part 2023 TV series Goliath.
In the first run of 1982’s Conan the Barbarian, Arnold Schwarzenegger mispronounced “lamentations of the women” as “lamination of the women,” and either he (or someone else?) later re-looped Conan’s dialogue.

Conan (Arnold Schwarzenegger) sits in front of the fire in Conan the Barbarian.

Today, Schwarzenegger’s lines would be voice cloned.
It should make a big difference to everyone, whether a person’s heirs consent to voice cloning, or the person consents.

The word “robot” comes from the Slavic word for “drudgery.”
(See my article on Rossum’s Universal Robots.)
It would be fine if all that AI did for humanity was end drudgery: coding text, checking that pages would print properly, or making it unnecessary for an actor to lose 60 pounds for a role.
However, the big problem is that people in charge (the overseers) are indifferent to quality standards, and oblivious to allowing artists human dignity. 

The jokers in charge don’t have the ability to judge, or evaluate, the material that AI produces.
To use the writing style and word combinations of scriptwriters to write dribble is unethical.
To use the face, or voice, of an actor to make them play a scene they wouldn’t perform is immoral.
To use the color sense and gesture of an artist to forge a scene that they wouldn’t paint is wrong.
With performers, it’s worse, because their own personas are being misused.

*The premise of Alien Nation (1989-1997, the series through five TV movies) is that a slave ship of humanoid space aliens (the Newcomers) crashes in the Mojave Desert, and the Government attempts to integrate the 300,000 aliens into California society. The primary storyline is Police Detective Sikes overcoming his prejudices toward the Newcomers. The secondary storyline is the Newcomers being pursued by technologically-advanced “Overseers” who want to re-enslave the escapees, as well as enslave the entire earth population.

Living in an Incoherent, Distracted Mass

 The December 1943 DC Comics cover of Wonder Woman running for President.

There have been forty-six presidents in U.S. history, and by many standards they’ve been fairly similar men—similar in ethnicity, height, religion, chosen professions, and age.
All but a very few had at least one ancestor who arrived on American soil in colonial days.
(Therefore, many either were slaveholders, or had ancestors who were slaveholders.)
Thirty-one served in the military.
Twenty-seven were trained as lawyers.
All but two (Catholics Kennedy and Biden), were Protestants—with thirteen Episcopalians.
It’s evident that there’s been “a presidential type,” and that for generations Americans tended to be fearful of non-British influence.

TV Wonder Woman Lynda Carter played President Marsdin in five episodes of Supergirl.

Of course, women have been cast as U.S. presidents in various films and television shows.
Presidents were portrayed as women in science-fiction projects like 1953’s Project Moon Base, and 2016’s Supergirl TV series (in which Lynda Carter was President Olivia Marsdin).
Most of the time, the productions have been comedies: 1964’s Kisses for my President; a 1985 TV series, starring Patty Duke (called Hail to the Chief, that lasted seven episodes); and most recently—Presidents Selina Meyer (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) and Laura Montez (Andrea Savage)—in the Emmy-winning HBO TV series, Veep.
Although Candidate Hillary Clinton won the popular vote in 2016, all elected presidents have been White Christian men of Northern European descent—with one exception (Barack Obama) who isn’t White, but fit most of the other criteria.  

Thomas Jefferson (Ken Howard) and John Adams (William Daniels) in 1776. 

The actors portrayed the parts in both the Broadway stage version and the 1972 movie.

William Daniels was the same height as the Founding Father he played—5 feet 7 inches.

While Jefferson was very tall at 6 feet two inches, he wasn’t as tall as the actor who played him—Ken Howard who was 6 feet 6 inches.

(Adams and Jefferson later became the second and third U.S. Presidents.)

Despite the fact that there were many Dutch, German, and Swedish immigrants in the colonies, it won’t shock anyone to learn that nearly all U.S. presidents had strong roots in the British Isles and Ireland.
The only exception was the 8th U.S. President, Martin Van Buren, who was of pure Dutch descent.
(In fact, English was his second language.)
Dwight D. Eisenhower was predominately German and Dutch, with some British ancestry.
Donald Trump is half-German.

The U.S. is supposed to be a “melting pot.”
Yet, few people whose parents (or grandparents) weren’t born here, made it to the White House.
Three presidents—Andrew Jackson, James Buchanan and Chester A. Arthur—were the sons of fathers who were born in Ireland, and had mothers whose people were long-time U.S. residents.
Barack Obama is the only president with a parent of non-European ancestry—but although his father was Kenyan—Obama also had deep roots in America (and in the British Isles), through his mother.*
Woodrow Wilson was exceptional in that three of his grandparents were born in Ireland and Scotland.
Trump’s paternal grandparents were Germans, and his mother was a native of Scotland, making him a true “child of immigrants.”
(It’s bizarre that an “anti-immigration politician” would be one of the few whose ancestors arrived in this country so recently.)

We don’t have DNA results for many U.S. presidents.
However, it’s safe to bet that no presidents have ever been of mainly southern European, Native American, Jewish, French, Russian, Scandinavian, Slavic, South American, or Asian descent.
In Master of the Mountain: Thomas Jefferson and His Slaves by Henry Wiencek, Wiencek describes how Jefferson recoiled from the prospect that “foreigners” would get the vote.
He’s quoted as saying: “They will infuse into [the law] their spirit, warp and bias its direction, and render it a heterogeneous, incoherent, distracted mass.”
What Jefferson, and other Founding Fathers, feared was that “foreigners” (at that time, numerous Dutch and German settlers) were slow in assimilating into Anglo-Saxon culture.

Lincoln (Daniel Day-Lewis)—between abolitionist James Mitchell Ashley (David Costabile) on the left and William Seward (David Strathairn) on the right—in 2012’s Lincoln.

Actor Daniel Day-Lewis is 6 feet 2 inches—only two inches shorter than President Abraham Lincoln who was 6 feet 4 inches.

There’s no height requirement for becoming president, but they’ve usually been taller than average.
At 6 feet 4 inches, Abraham Lincoln was the tallest president.
Twenty-six of our presidents have been 5 feet 11 inches tall, or taller, and only three (Van Buren, Harrison, and Madison) were 5 feet 6 inches or under.
(The average male height in the U.S. has been 5 feet 9 inches, from 1776 through 2023.)

Although presidents are allowed to be as young as 35, most have been in their mid-fifties.
The youngest president was Theodore Roosevelt; he was 42 when he became president in 1901 (after President McKinley’s assassination.)
John F. Kennedy was the youngest elected president at age 43.
The oldest president was Joseph Biden who was inaugurated at age 77.
Until 69-year-old Ronald Reagan was elected in 1981, only two other presidents (Harrison and Buchanan) had been in their late 60’s when elected.
(It’s without precedent that the U.S. may be considering an 82-year-old Democrat running against a 78-year-old Republican, in November of 2024.)

The Constitution lists three qualifications for becoming president.
Candidates must be at least 35 years old, a natural born citizen, and a U.S. resident for fourteen years.
However, the phrase “natural born” wasn’t defined.
Was John McCain “natural born,” although he was born in the Panama Canal Zone?
Was Ted Cruz “natural born,” although he was born in Calgary, Canada?
British law of the era (when the qualifications were established), allowed foreign-born children to be “true native subjects” as long as at least one parent was British.
Thus, there’s a legal precedent for both McCain and Cruz being “natural born,” with John McCain’s case being stronger.
(Both John McCain’s parents were U.S. citizens, and his father, Admiral John S. McCain, was stationed in Panama.
Although Cruz’s father wasn’t a U.S. citizen, his mother was dual citizen of the U.S and Canada.)

It's interesting that the Trump administration changed the law—on October 29, 2019—so that automatic citizenship was taken away from children of U.S. government employees, and members of the armed forces, if the children were born on foreign soil.
(Now, these parents must apply for citizenship for their children.)
Since a child born abroad to two married U.S. citizens traveling abroad automatically acquires U.S. citizenship, it seems odd that the law was altered.
Does the Government just want more paperwork to shuffle?

According to Jamelle Bouie’s 7/2/23 N.Y. Times column “What Frederick Douglass Knew and Trump and DeSantis Don’t,” the Trump administration searched for a way to end birthright citizenship, but was unsuccessful.
Boule says that “the attack on birthright citizenship is an attempt to stigmatize and remove from society an entire class of people.”
(Is Trump still carrying a grudge because Ted Cruz beat him so many times in the 2016 presidential primaries?) 

If Republicans were able to eliminate birthright citizenship, what would the phrase “natural born citizen” mean, and why was this phrase used in the first place?
Obviously, the Founders were afraid of foreign influence, and didn’t anyone with strong ties to another country to be in charge.
Furthermore, they wanted all presidents to have been born on U.S. soil, and not to have acquired citizenship by governmental decree.
(They may have accepted a person born on foreign soil to American parents—as long as they were raised on U.S. soil—but we don’t know that for sure.)

The Founders didn’t mention experience, or education level, as a qualification for the presidency.
Despite some expressing anti-German prejudices, they didn’t specify ethnicity, or being from the British Isles.
They didn’t specify being a landowner.
They didn’t even mention whether a President could be a man or a woman.
They only listed a minimum age, being born on American soil, and residing here for at least fourteen years.
Making the qualifications minimal was an excellent decision, and I’m sure doing so was purposeful.

*According to Ancestry.com, President Barack Obama has extremely deep roots in the U.S.
He’s the 11th great-grandson (through his mother, anthropologist Stanley Ann Dunham) of John Punch—an African man who attempted to escape indentured servitude (in 1640), and ended up a slave in colonial Virginia.
Obama’s mother also had ancestors from England, Scotland, Ireland, France, Germany, and Switzerland.

If an Elephant or Pig Can Paint, Why Not a Robot?

In Diane Ackerman’s 2014 book The Human Age,* she discussed AI with roboticist Hod Lipson.
Professor Lipson is the director of Columbia’s Creative Machines Lab, as well as a faculty member since 2015 at Columbia University.
In a 3/30/2023 Columbia News article “Will ChatGPT and AI Help or Harm Us,” he argues that use of ChatGPT, and its’ “artificial cousins,” should be encouraged by educators, and that professors should teach students to use the new AI tools, or be left behind.

Ackerman is more cautious.
She discusses “robotic delinquents,” and envisions problems if bots were used to "man" crisis hotlines.

Caleb Nichols (Aaron Paul) checks his phone in Westworld.

(Think of the “Parce Domine” episode of Westworld in which Caleb Nichols isn’t sure whether he’s talking to a human being, or a bot.)
Ackerman warns that although robots do learn, “even robo-tots will need good parenting.”
In another paragraph of The Human Age, Ackerman mentions how Lipson’s Creative Machines Lab nearly finagled a robot-created painting into a Yale Art Museum exhibit.
Ultimately, the painting wasn’t displayed, but this story leads us to the subject of AI-created artwork.
Stable Diffusion, Diffusion Bee, Lensa, Starryai, DALL-E.2, Craiyon, Dream by Wombo, StyleGAN, and Midjourney are some of the programs that can be used to generate digital artworks.

The copyright status of AI-created art is hazy.
In some programs (like Dream by Wombo), the fine print says that the software owns all the creations.
The contract for DALL-E.2 (an AI-powered synthesizer created by OpenAI) says that the “artist” owns the work, but DALL-E.2 must be credited (by retaining the watermark).
In Starryai, the “artist” only owns the work if they own all the elements used in the work.
According to the U.S. Copyright office, any images produced by AI-generated art cannot be copyrighted; however, the artist may own the art.
In 2022, an artist named Jason M. Allen won the “Digital Art/Digitally Manipulated Photography” prize ($300) at the Colorado State Fair by using Midjourney.
(Allen actually paid to have his Midjourney image printed on a canvas!)

Data (Brent Spiner) paints two canvases, as Geordi LaForge (LaVar Burton) looks on, in Star Trek: The Next Generation. 

Just as ChatGBT is “built from” 300 billion words taken from Wikipedia (and other material on the open web), programs like Midjourney are “built” from billions of images taken from the open web—many of which are watermarked, and in copyright.
The AI-art generators take the images, and use them to construct algorithms to generate new images.
I imagine the engineers who create the software think that if one uses billions of images—rather than just use one—you’re free and clear.
Aren’t there enough public domain, and creative common images to build an image library?
Why are images being culled from the web?

Painter Larry Flint (Paul Newman) is very excited about his painting machine in 1964”s What a Way to Go.

I was once asked to obtain the credit line for an image, to be used in a book I was producing.
The editors wanted to use a particular drawing.
However, after I found the artist, the editors didn’t want to pay the very reasonable usage fee ($150) that the artist wanted to charge.
Their argument was that other companies were using the image uncredited on the web.
Why pay anything?
We ended up not using an image in the book, because the editors didn’t like any of the public domain, or Creative Common, substitutes that I had found.
Nowadays, they would have insisted that I use AI software to draw a similar illustration for them (as long as we could own the copyright).

Another issue about AI-created images is the quality of the work.
I’ve drawn ever since I was a small child, and my BFA is in painting and drawing.
One thing I wonder is how well AI programs draw in perspective.
Is the software extracting image data from created drawings and paintings plus photographs, or mainly from photographs?
That would make quite a difference in how the software dealt with perspective.

We began to hear about art created by animals in the 1950’s.
Today, you can find: the Elephant Art Gallery (images available on pillows, as well as canvas); elephant foot prints and “kisses” that help to support an elephant preserve in Texas; paintings by a pig named Pigcasso; and (of course) paintings by the famous gorilla Koko, and the chimpanzee Congo.
The London Institute of Contemporary Art exhibited Congo’s paintings in 1957, and two works were purchased by Picasso and Miro.
(“It Seems Art is Indeed Monkey Business” by Sarah Boxer, 11/8/1997, N.Y. Times.)

I feel about people choosing to put art created by animals on their walls, much the same way as I feel about people choosing to place AI-created artwork on their walls.
To each their own.
However, it is upsetting that illustrators will lose work to word-people using AI—especially since their art may have been used as raw material.

Publishers will continue to need illustrators (unless they are content with hack work thought up by editors).
Medical illustrators have long studied the work of Dr. Frank H. Netter (1906-1991), the medical doctor and great medical illustrator.
(He might have been a little weak on women’s faces, but none could draw internal organs like he could.)
Netter is so great because he merged a scientist's understanding of anatomical structures with an artist’s skills.
His work is appreciated (and copied) for how well it helps us to understand medical concepts and anatomical structures, as well as its’ aesthetic value and accuracy.

When I was the Design Director for an encyclopedia and yearbook company, I hired artists to draw everything from plants and birds, to scientific diagrams, to comedic scenes for feature articles.
Every artist brings a different skill set, so deciding which artist to use is an important decision.
Selecting the wrong artist for a project could lead to disaster.
Perhaps, I could have used an AI program to draw a comedic scene, but I needed to hire an ornithologist, or a scientific illustrator, to draw a bird. 

*The Human Age: The World Shaped by Us, by Diane Ackerman, published by W.W. Norton, Ltd. 2014, Chapters: “When Robots Weep, Who will Comfort Them?” and “Robots on a Date.”