I’ve just left Paradiso, where this year’s annual Kunsten’92 debate was devoted to AI.
What struck me was that, apart from the question/comment from the balcony at Paradiso – which, unfortunately, was impossible to make out without amplification – no mention was made of the extremely interesting observations and advice from Payal Arora, Professor of Inclusive AI Cultures at Utrecht University and founder of the Inclusive AI LAB.
She explained that AI is being embraced by young people in the Global South: it gives them access to knowledge that was previously beyond their reach, and they will ensure that the data on which AI is based becomes more diverse, thanks to their exposure to perspectives from other parts of the world.
She strongly urged the West, which remains trapped in a fear-driven reflex, to align itself with the methods the BRICS countries have already developed to curb the dangers of AI and to take (greater) control of its development and keep it under their own control. And to work together.
It was remarkable that none of the politicians who spoke afterwards mentioned that recommendation even once. They remained fixated on safeguarding ‘European values’ (what are they, exactly? Wouldn’t we rather talk about ‘human’ values and human rights?) and ‘democracy’. And although that word, too, deserves some explanation these days, we all understand the fear of the ongoing erosion of what we call our democracy, and we must certainly arm ourselves against the role that AI plays in this.
When it came to the arts, it became apparent that the politicians’ concerns centred on authenticity and the protection of copyright. No one referred to Arora’s opening remark that, in the world of 90%, copyright does not exist and never has.
It reminded me of the rise of the mobile phone and solar-powered batteries in the 1990s. For us, it mainly meant benefits in terms of mobility and the climate, and we had some concerns about privacy. For a large proportion of the world’s population, it meant gaining access to the rest of the world without the need to first install a wired electricity and telephone network. And now we have AI and ChatGPT, which open up even more possibilities; they absorb whatever you put into them and incorporate those ingredients into the dish that they then serve up to the rest of the world.
With the advent of the smartphone, the West lost a privilege – the exclusive right to specific information and knowledge – and – content as we might have been here with the functioning of our institutions and our freedoms – it became the dream destination for many who now stand at our borders. Meanwhile, Europe is as small as the map just adopted by the UN. At last, a realistic representation following the lie we have lived with for centuries. But we still fail to realise that the territory familiar with our concept of copyright is just as small. How tenable is that assumption – which rests on the premise that an artist can be protected by safeguarding the proceeds of their unique work – in this day and age, in this world?
With its ‘open source’ model, the internet has already dealt a significant blow to the sacrosanct concept of copyright. Perhaps it is high time we started thinking about a different form of protection for artists, rather than their claim to the exclusive right to their works of art. So that their livelihood no longer depends on the number of times their song is streamed on Spotify. And so that they do not have to go to court every time someone plagiarises or samples their work.
Perhaps we should simply admit that their song has long since been rendered obsolete in the world of smartphones and AI, whether it bears a quality mark or not. And that we need to find other ways to keep those artists afloat. Because without art, we have no reason to survive this revolution.




