Dinosaurs, Pioneers, and the New Rules of Creativity.
Weird Midjourney car design image from 2022, a very early attempt to design with an early version of Midjourney.
This situation was akin to witnessing an avalanche hurtling towards a ski station. Some foresaw the danger and took action, while others stood still, mesmerized by the spectacle, not realizing its imminent impact.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of AI
Since 2022, the swift progression of AI has been a burning issue, particularly within creative fields. Just a few years prior, most believed that creative jobs would be the last to face a threat from AI, with the assumption that AI would replace only repetitive, mundane jobs. They were wrong. The launch of Midjourney in H2 2022 signaled a turning point when people began to recognize the potential of AI-based image generation systems. Even in its initial stage, Midjourney proved fairly proficient at creating artistic, painting-style images and graphics. However, it lacked the same finesse in product design, which allowed many designers to maintain a sense of security, uttering dismissive claims like, "It'll take years before it gets good at that." This situation was akin to witnessing an avalanche hurtling towards a ski station. Some foresaw the danger and took action, while others stood still, mesmerized by the spectacle, not realizing its imminent impact.
“Fools watching an avalanche”, an image created in Midjourney about not taking action when facing the new AI era.
Surprisingly, it didn't take AI long to produce impressive renditions of designed objects. In the grand scheme of things, the speed of its advancement was mind-bogglingly rapid. By the end of 2022, designers were already utilizing Midjourney to enrich and expedite their creative processes. Different schools of thought had already formed regarding this new technology. The early adopters, who were enthralled by the capabilities of AI, saw endless possibilities and felt an invigorating surge of energy. I, identifying myself as one of them, noticed in numerous personal discussions that this group felt so inspired that many reported restless nights spent pondering the vast array of opportunities. This set of creatives seemed to welcome AI as a powerful new tool—a rich source of possibilities and a novel way to explore and express their creative selves.
On the other end of the spectrum, there are those who harbor a deep distrust and fear of AI. They perceive it as a soulless, hostile entity that poses a threat—cold and unpleasant. It's been my observation that these individuals generally focus on the negative aspects of AI advancements. They might dismissively declare, "Well, you can INSTANTLY see it's made by AI."
Interestingly, we've seen similar resistance to technological advancement throughout history. For instance, in the automotive industry, the initial method for creating design models involved hand-beating panels from sheet metal using wooden bucks as guides. However, the introduction of industrial clay revolutionized the automotive design process. I'm certain the panel-beating masters didn't warmly welcome this change. They might have said, "Clay is for those who lack the skill to beat a panel!" or "It's too easy. It has no soul," and "It's so messy and smelly." Yet, working with clay proved quicker and more efficient. It facilitated rapid iteration and allowed creatives to try out ideas more effectively. Consequently, the panel beaters slowly became obsolete in the car design industry.
Old automotive manufacturing process image, panel beating - credit: https://www.carbodydesign.com/2014/12/the-panelbeater-the-art-of-italian-carrozzeria/
Fast forward a few decades to when CAD systems advanced and started becoming truly beneficial. The old guard of clay masters didn't readily accept this technological shift either. Comments like "You can INSTANTLY see it's made on a computer!" or "It's so stiff; it has no soul" were common. Nonetheless, CAD software was here to stay. It made the process quicker, more iterative, more precise, and more repeatable.
Dinosaurs and Innovations
I often reference the automotive industry because it's been my professional home for 20 years, and I continue to contribute regularly. The patterns of acceptance and resistance to new technology repeat time and again in this industry.
Consider the era when car designers created renderings on vellum translucent media, drafting the outlines and using markers on both sides to lend depth and gradient. Pastels were finely ground, mixed with baby powder to soften the color, and then applied onto the drawing with cotton pads. It was intricate work that could take hours, even days, to complete and could easily be ruined by a simple mistake. The renderings were finished with white gouache highlights and shut lines made to stand out by the precise application of white and black pencils. The piece was then protected by a thin layer of fixative. Car rendering was a fine art, resulting in stunning pieces. Honestly, I never quite mastered the markers and pastels—it wasn't my forte—but I deeply admired those who did. However, it was an exceedingly slow process.
Hand drawn automotive design rendering, Nissan Global Headquarters Showroom, Yokohama, Japan. Photo credit Jarno Lehtinen
Then came Photoshop. Early adopters embraced it without hesitation, exploring its tools and finding new ways to visualize their ideas. The old masters, however, shook their heads in disapproval: "Don't like it. You can INSTANTLY see it's made in Photoshop! It has no soul, too sterile." While they weren't entirely wrong—the first wave of digital rendering often did lack a certain "soul"—it didn't take long for the more proficient designers to produce absolutely stunning car renderings using Photoshop. Soon, it became the industry standard.
Today, no one considers it cheating when a designer uses a photo of existing alloy wheels, copies and pastes them onto a rendering, and then adds their own touch. It's accepted as part of the process, freeing designers from secondary tasks and allowing them to focus on the primary design elements.
Coming Full Circle: Debating AI's Place in the Designer's Toolbox
We've come full circle, engaging in a new debate over the role and future of AI in the designer's toolbox. Some of the old masters—many of whom were early adopters of Photoshop—are expressing doubts. They dislike that you can INSTANTLY see a design was created by AI. It's understandable; new technology often feels unnatural because we're not accustomed to it. Whether we get caught up in that sentiment or choose to remain open and explore the possibilities largely depends on our mindset.
Clay, Photoshop, and Pantyhose: A Creative Journey into the Unknown
I can still recall the bemused looks from administration when I turned in a receipt for pantyhose
Unfinished automotive clay model at Toyota ED² 2010, Photo credit: Jarno Lehtinen
I'm not here to argue that one tool is inherently superior to another. For instance, I adore the art of panel beating—a skill largely forgotten by the time I took my first tentative steps into car design. I also relish working with clay, though I haven't had the chance in the past 10 years. Some of my most cherished memories from my career stem from working with clay modellers in the Toyota ED² studio in Sophia Antipolis, France and chiseling away hard models with highly skilled artisans in Carrozzerie Turinesi in Italy.
I've always enjoyed experimenting with different mediums. For me, becoming entrenched in one medium stifles creativity. Trying something new often brings about fresh ideas. During my tenure at Toyota (2000-2011), I would create miniature models as part of the design process. Once, I deep drew an aluminium body side in 1/18th scale using self-made dies. Another time, I crafted an exoskeleton from hard foam pieces, bonding them together and stretching women's pantyhose on top to achieve naturally flowing surfaces. I can still recall the bemused looks from administration when I turned in a receipt for pantyhose. I would make 1/18 scale clay models for every project, choosing this scale so I could compare my designs to existing car models.
I see AI as a new opportunity to enrich my creative workflow—it's neither more nor less significant than that.
We're No More Creative than AI
As excited as I am about these new tools at our disposal, my enthusiasm is not without reservations. Having utilized AI tools on and off for about a year, I've found myself engaged in a lot of introspection. It's intriguing to me how some creatives criticize AI for merely using existing material it has learned from to generate its own creations. This is apparently an attempt to argue that AI doesn't truly create anything new, while ostensibly, we humans do. While I don't entirely disagree with this sentiment, I view it differently.
Imagine a newborn baby placed in a dark cave for 20 years, devoid of any visual stimulation. After those 20 years, give that person the task of designing a car. I doubt much would come of it. Fundamentally, we are not so different from AI. We subconsciously absorb influences from our environment and create based on those inputs. Moreover, a vast majority of designers do not truly create something genuinely new. Many of us start each design project by browsing Pinterest or, these days, perhaps Behance, Instagram, and other platforms.
Consider the new products being released in practically any field. How many genuinely fresh, innovative ideas do you see? There are countless designs still being produced, following the undoubtedly refined, utilitarian aesthetic of Dieter Rams/Braun.
From Tangent to Curvature: Have We Maxed Out Creativity?
Later, a certain curvature approach was grafted onto the utilitarian functionalism popularized by figures like Rams. Using a Lamé curve as a foundation for product design is a method that has stood the test of time, and we at Ultra have successfully implemented this approach. However, it's certainly not the only valid approach. There's so much more that can be done, but often it seems that the global market has settled into established stylistic norms. High-volume businesses are risk-averse. They tend to resort to styles that they know will strike a balance between novelty and accessibility.
In the first 20 years of my career, my employers expected me to supply them with fresh ideas and surprises, a task I found thoroughly enjoyable. Since then, I've also worked on less adventurous projects, but I've relished the different approach. However, I must emphasize that tools should not dictate style. It might seem contradictory coming from someone who consistently seeks out new tools to generate fresh ideas and feelings. But there's a fine line between controlling the machine and letting the machine control you.
AI-based tools have the advantage of being informed by a vast and diverse database, which can certainly add an intriguing layer to a designer's work. But don't anticipate AI fully replacing humans. It certainly can and will to an extent, but I prefer to utilize AI tools to push my limits, to catalyze another learning phase in my career, to explore, and even to shock my brain out of its comfort zone, because that comfort zone is what stifles creativity.
The Garbage Dump Phenomenon
Image of a mass of meaningless AI images, from a random YouTube passive income evangelist
I recently stumbled upon a YouTube clip where someone boasted about how they created 1000 designs overnight for print-on-demand products without any manual labor. They didn't type prompts or upload manually. With a single click of a fully automated process, they had 1000 new designs attached to POD products, ready to sell and inundate an already oversaturated marketplace. With random designs, on random products. Without a message, without a niche. Their sole purpose was to sweep in money from here and there, with sheer volume being the primary factor that wins over the algorithm and gains visibility.
This approach trumps those creatives who painstakingly create their designs manually and maintain a small, carefully curated portfolio – perhaps a collection of gems that simply gets crushed under the weight of bots churning out millions of designs. These automated designs, devoid of purpose or personal touch, may occasionally look cool, but only by chance.
Products With Purpose, Not Purposes for Products
This is where human creatives will carve out their place, providing meaning to clients, users, communities, and ecosystems.
Is this automated deluge of design what we want from AI? No. However, it is what it is—an inevitable outcome of an algorithm-governed game in social media platform-driven businesses where human skills alone can't secure a victory. It's a numbers game, and if you aim to succeed creatively in such an environment, you must carefully consider your options.
I believe we are entering a new era marked by more polarity, more competition, but also an era that will eventually breed new opportunities for meticulously crafted, meaningful products and brands. These may not always cater to vast audiences but may be more localized, more personal, and carry more purpose. Products that are more thought out, more innovative, more sustainable. This is where human creatives will carve out their place, providing meaning to clients, users, communities, and ecosystems. It's a mindset that fosters the creation of products for a reason, not reasons for products.
Even in this scenario, AI tools hold their rightful place in the creative toolbox, but merely as tools. If anything, I believe the rapid advancements and remarkable capabilities of AI tools can nudge the best creatives to improve further, pushing their thinking and problem-solving skills to the next level. This is not always what we desire as it means challenging ourselves and braving discomfort, but in the end, new opportunities will arise. As a result, we humans will also unearth new capabilities within ourselves.
Jarno Lehtinen, Designer & Partner / ULTRA
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