Uncrushable Creativity

I have a confession—I can’t stop thinking about the iPad commercial. 

I know I’m late to the party (about three months late if anyone wants to keep track). But once I saw it, it was just there, lodged in my brain between navigating the summer heat and piling books onto my reading list. 

The short of it is that the commercial featured creative and nostalgic items crushed into nothingness, only for the new iPad Pro to emerge. It’s a relatively simple commercial, one that implies that the iPad is the only way forward. 

But it feels like more than that. 

I don’t want to sound like the person waving a stick at the sky and yelling about how technology is bad. Technology’s great! I love it. But the backlash against the commercial revolved around a good point: what happens when we rely on it too much? 

This commercial isn’t just about selling a product.

It’s a metaphor for how creativity is shifting in the light of the digital age.

As we watch creative tools and nostalgic items being crushed, we’re forced to confront the uncomfortable question of whether we’re losing something valuable in the rush to embrace what’s new.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Crush!—The Commercial

For those who haven’t seen the now-infamous commercial, let me catch you up to speed.

The commercial opens with a close-up of a metronome clicking. A record player whirs to life. “All I Ever Need Is You” by Sonny & Cher begins to play. 

Suddenly, we see it.

The “it” in question is an industrial crusher piled high with musical instruments, art supplies, books, an arcade cabinet, a vintage television, camera lenses, and more. If you think of something tactile that you feel nostalgic for, it would have easily belonged on the crusher’s platform. 

The bulk of the commercial features the crusher slowly destroying everything: buckets of paint burst, a piano cracks and splinters apart, glass shatters, and sticky notes erupt into confetti under pressure. 

It ends with everything destroyed. Paint drips down the front of the crusher as it slowly lifts to reveal the new iPad Pro. 

It’s a visually stunning commercial. I won’t deny Apple that. There was something deeply satisfying about watching paint explode in bright colors. 

I just…

I can’t shake the feeling of unease that I had while watching it. 

The iPad, and technology like it, offers incredible possibilities. Digital art, music production, and writing have never been more accessible.

But there’s a tactile satisfaction in smearing paint across a canvas. There’s something grounding about your fingers gliding across piano keys. 

The smell of a new book can’t be replicated on a screen.

And the thing is, it’s not just the sterilization of the creative process at stake. It’s not just Apple’s implication that it’s best to move from paint tubes to pixels clustered together to imitate watercolors. 

There’s the elephant in the room that’s grabbing the brush and creating the painting itself: AI.

What is AI, Really?

Artificial intelligence is a lot of things, but it’s not intelligent. 

Not really. 

Today, when we think about artificial intelligence, we often think of software like ChatGPT, Claude AI, Perplexity, or one of the other numerous language models. These AI systems are incredibly sophisticated and trained on vast amounts of data to understand and generate human-like text and responses. 

But here’s the thing—AI systems are not sentient. They don’t have their own thoughts, feelings, or consciousness. 

They’re complex algorithms, mathematical models that excel at pattern recognition and language prediction. So, while it might feel like you’re chatting with your super-smart friend, you’re chatting with a tool. 

They can augment and inspire our writing process but can’t replicate the spark of originality, the depth of emotion, or the unique perspective that comes from a human mind.

It can generate and iterate but can’t mimic the human experience that informs truly moving art.

But it’s so easy to use. It’s easy to rely on. Even if it’s not the best at being creative, it helps to fill in the gaps. It does some of the heavy lifting (such as outlining this essay). 

It also makes it harder to determine where the line is when using it.

The Human Element

So, where does this leave us? Are we destined to be replaced by algorithms and crushed like the instruments in the iPad commercial? 

I don’t think so.

Human creativity is about more than just producing content. It’s about expressing our unique experiences, our joys, our sorrows, our perspectives on the world. It’s about connecting with others on a deeply human level. 

Technology and AI can augment our abilities. They can give us new tools to express ourselves. But they can’t replace the spark of inspiration, that satisfaction of mastering a skill, or the profound connection we feel when we resonate with another’s creative work.

Move Forward: Mindful Creativity

As I said earlier, I don’t want to be the person waving a stick at the sky and yelling about how technology is bad. 

Am I hesitant about AI? Absolutely. But I also think that we can strike a balance.

Probably. 

Here’s what I have so far: 

1. Embrace technology, but don’t let it define your creativity. Digital tools should enhance your work, not replace your voice.
2. Maintain a connection to traditional methods. Does that sound pretentious? Sure, but there’s value in the tactile and the analog that shouldn’t be lost.
3. Use AI for inspiration, but remember that you get the final creative say. Experiment with it, but remind yourself that the creativity comes from you.
4. Remember the human element. Social media makes it easy to create content geared to what works best on the algorithm. Make stuff for other people. The algorithm can wait. 

In the end, the iPad commercial might be right about one thing: change is inevitable. 

But it’s up to us to decide how we navigate that change. Let’s not crush (I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself) our creative past but build upon it. Let’s use the best of both the old and new to express our uniquely human perspectives.