The effect of AI art legalities reaches into the future. A short story.
Jean-Paul stared at another garish black swirl that mimicked a tree. "Is it just me, or does it seem like most of the modern artwork tends toward black. Honestly, they make me feel downright lonely."
Marie glanced along the length of the museum wall. "Hmmm, they do seem to be."
"You'd think, given that being an artist is the highest, most coveted position, that their art would reflect that." Jean-Paul stepped closer to squint at the raised texture of the oil painting in front of them. He carefully did not get too close. The hall guard was observing them.
Marie sighed. "I'm not so sure. To be taken from birth and sequestered away so you can't see anyone else's images at all... I imagine that would be lonely. I heard they are given a pencil, shown how to hold it, but never even shown a line. Same with all of the art supplies. They can go out and talk with each other, but they are never allowed to work with someone and if they do ever see someone else's art, they can't legally make art anymore."
The guard nodded and said, "That's correct. I don't think the artists understood what they were doing with that huge anti-usage law in 2024. The artists were in an uproar over the AI images using their work without consent. They passed the law and then someone pointed out that artists' brains collected images over their lifetime and so the new law also applied to them. The sequestering, as you called it, only began in 2082. It was the only way to guarantee that an artist doesn't copy even a part of someone else's work. Unwanted babies were taken away to become artists." The guard shifted his weight to his right foot, clearly tired of standing. "I visited one of the artist retreats last year. I was practically strip-searched to make sure I didn't have any image that could possibly contaminate the artists. Did you know that they're read to? They're not even allowed to see print. They might copy the width of a line."
Jean-Paul replied, "That does seem extreme."
The guard said, "But it guarantees their art is true art and doesn't use any elements of someone else's without consent."
Marie nodded. She and Jean-Paul continued to walk along slowly, hand-in-hand, gazing at the huge paintings and drawings. A placard next to a charcoal drawing of a dreary black and brown table in an empty hall read, "Evening dinner. Mixed Media by Geoff, age 18. The invisibility of the subject matter means the mind must interpret it in a unique way and frees the soul from any preconceived notion of art." Marie thought it should have read, "A tribute to emptiness. Charcoal by kidnapped baby, 18 years later. The lack of food on the table reflects the artist's lack of necessary sustenance both for his art and his emotional well-being. The lack of any people declares the artist's severe loneliness."