“Should AI Be Listed as a Co-creator?”
After presenting a 7-week logo design presentation, the professor asked all the students a question: Should we give credit to the AI? Each student expressed their own opinion, but the result was quite interesting. The majority (in blue) did not want to give credit to the AI, while a few (in red) were willing to do so.
I realized that this seemingly simple choice revealed a deeper civilizational dilemma: When creation is no longer exclusively human, how should we define ourselves?
1. Refusing Credit: Humanity’s Instinctive Defense
Looking closely at my classmates’ arguments, those who refused to credit AI shared a common belief: Creation must originate from human will and control.
They regarded AI as a mere tool—like a painter’s brush—lacking any creative subjectivity of its own. Behind this stance lies the philosophical legacy of Descartes’ “I think, therefore I am”—the foundation of modern subjectivity, which places rationality and consciousness at the core of human uniqueness.
By contrast, those who favored giving AI credit saw it as an extension of the self, even as a co-creator.
This is not a technical debate about AI’s capabilities; it is a philosophical dialogue about “Who am I?” The refusal to credit AI is, at its essence, a human defense mechanism—a way of guarding the boundaries of rational subjecthood.
2. The Twilight of Copyright: Old Maps, New Continents
Our reluctance to credit AI is not merely a matter of bias; it is deeply rooted in the legal and philosophical structure of modern society.
The system of copyright rests on two key philosophical foundations:
- John Locke’s labor theory, which claims that by transforming nature through labor, one naturally gains ownership of the result;
- Immanuel Kant’s personality theory, which sees creative works as extensions of the author’s will and personhood.
Yet both frameworks falter in the age of AI.
- If “labor” includes prompt design and iterative refinement, can human labor alone justify full ownership of an AI-assisted creation?
- If a work embodies “personality,” then when AI generates an entirely new style, is it still an extension of human expression—or the emergence of a non-human form of creativity discovered through data?
Legal systems are trying to respond. From the U.S. Copyright Office’s refusal to register AI-generated works, to China’s Interim Measures for the Management of Generative Artificial Intelligence Services, governments worldwide are attempting to draw boundaries. But these efforts reveal a paradox: we are still using the logic of the old world to regulate a new one.
At the same time, they force us to rethink the relationship between reason and creation.
3. Reason and Emotion: A Dialogue Between Civilizations
A chance encounter with a philosopher at Los Angeles Airport gave me new insight into the issue. He was from Africa, yet deeply familiar with both Eastern and Western philosophy.
"Western philosophy is like a straight line, pursuing clear causes and boundaries."
"Eastern philosophy is more like a circle, focusing on the overall connections and generation."
This metaphor reveals the deeper structure of our dilemma—and the entanglement of reason and emotion within human cognition. Linear thinking demands an answer to “Who created this work?”—a clear, singular author. Circular thinking, however, emphasizes the process of creation: “How did this work emerge through interaction?”
History reminds us that human creation has never been purely individual. Composers borrow from folk melodies; scientists build upon the discoveries of predecessors. Creation has always been a relay of collective intelligence.
AI’s participation merely exposes this truth more clearly. The real question is not whether AI has a “soul,” but whether we are ready to admit thatcreation itself has always been a shared, fluid act of becoming.
4. The Social Dimension: The Clash Between Systems and Thought
Looking beyond the classroom, similar anxieties are everywhere.
Education systems now require AI usage disclosures; academic journals enforce strict AI policies; the media constantly warns of “AI replacing human creativity.”
These reactions seem reasonable—but they might make us miss the deeper question: What kind of creative capacity should we cultivate in the age of intelligence?
When AI can handle technical execution, perhaps the true value of being human lies in our ability to ask better questions, think more critically, and form unexpected connections.When AI can handle technical execution, perhaps the true value of being human lies in our ability to ask better questions, think more critically, and form unexpected connections.
Just as photography did not end painting but liberated it, AI may not mark the death of creativity, but rather its transformation—a catalyst forcing us to rediscover what it means to create as humans.
Conclusion: The Tail of Civilization
Back in that design class, I finally understood what our professor was really asking. It was never a legal question—it was a philosophical one:
When the definition of creation itself is being rewritten before our eyes, are you ready to become the next kind of creator?
AI is a mirror that reflects our assumptions about creativity. The crack in rational civilization is not a sign of collapse—but the beginning of renewal. It invites us to build a more inclusive understanding of creation—one that acknowledges human uniqueness while embracing technological possibility.
In this light, whether or not we credit AI no longer matters. What matters is that humanity is still thinking, still questioning, still uneasy.
And that unease itself— is the very force that keeps civilization moving forward.