Why AI Anxiety in Creative Work Is Real — and What to Do About It
By someone who once spent three days choosing the right shade of teal for a pitch deck — and still thinks it mattered.
I started my career in advertising, back when vector logos were guarded like family secrets and nobody said “we’ll just ask the AI.”
We spent late nights storyboarding pitches by hand, arguing over typefaces like our jobs depended on it (which they sort of did), and pouring over film references to explain a mood. Everything was hard-earned, a little sweaty, and deeply personal.
So when I see AI tools now that can generate twelve visual directions, two campaign lines, and a moodboard before you’ve had your first coffee, I won’t lie — something in me flinches.
Not because I’m against progress. But because I understand what it feels like when something you’ve spent years mastering is suddenly… automated. Shrunk down into prompts and probabilities. I get why creatives are feeling off. Why the vibe in some agencies right now is weirdly quiet.
It’s not just fear of being replaced. It’s fear of being flattened.
When AI Tries to Paint Like Miyazaki
Let’s talk about the Ghibli-style AI art situation.
A couple of weeks ago, AI-generated images in the unmistakable style of Studio Ghibli — lush, dreamlike, gently surreal — started making the rounds online. And okay, some of them were stunning. Not in a deep, soulful way, but in that “wow, the algorithm really nailed the color grading” kind of way.
But very quickly, the energy shifted.
Artists and designers started pushing back — not just because the work felt derivative, but because it felt hollow. These weren’t homages. They were mimics. Slick, well-trained copies of something that was never just aesthetic.
Ghibli’s visual world comes from something fragile and painstaking. Years of hand-drawn animation. Melancholy and memory and mood that can’t be boiled down to pixels.
Hayao Miyazaki himself once dismissed an AI animation as “an insult to life itself.” And while that sounds dramatic, I think what he meant was: it’s not just about what you make. It’s about why you made it, and how it changed you in the process.
But some younger designers found value in the AI interpretations. They used the outputs not as final products, but as jumping-off points. Sketches to riff on. Mood references. Study material.
There’s tension here. And it’s not resolvable just yet.
Because we’re in the murky middle of it — between awe and unease, reverence and restlessness.
It’s okay to feel weird right now. I do too.
What’s Actually Behind the AI Anxiety
Let’s name the real stuff.
The anxiety isn’t just technical — it’s existential.
You’re a designer who’s spent years honing taste, only to see a bot mimic your style.
You’re a copywriter who obsesses over rhythm and subtext, and AI spits out something “fine” in two seconds.
You’re a strategist who connects dots that aren’t in the data — but your clients start asking why ChatGPT can’t do that too.
It’s not that the machines are better. It’s that they’re fast, cheap, and good enough to confuse people who don’t know better.
That’s disorienting.
And disorientation — if you don’t talk about it — calcifies into resentment.
How to Lead When the Ground Feels Shaky
If you are a leader who is leading a team of creatives, in fact why just creatives, we know that all professionals are feeling the slight burn of AI, maybe this will help.Here are some ways leaders can show up right now — not with certainty, but with presence:
1. Share Your Own Uncertainty
Leadership doesn’t mean having it all figured out. It means modeling reflection. Say, “I’m not sure how I feel about this either. Let’s explore it together.” That permission opens the door for more honest conversations.
2. Pause Before You Integrate
Before you implement a shiny new AI tool to “speed up the process,” ask: What’s the cost of going faster? Some things — like trust, intuition, or deep work — don’t scale well. Know when efficiency is worth it, and when it isn’t.
3. Build a Creative Code of Ethics
Get your teams to co-create principles for how AI will (and won’t) be used. Not a compliance policy, but a living, breathing set of values. It helps people feel they still have authorship — not just over their work, but over the process of working.
4. Invest in Human Skills
Storytelling. Empathy. Strategy. Taste. Critical thinking. These are the muscles AI can’t flex; at least not with meaning. Make those your team’s unfair advantage. That’s how you build careers that last beyond the next tool.
5. Make Room for Grief
This one sounds strange, but hear me out: AI is a kind of loss. The loss of process. The loss of preciousness. The loss of slowness. Let your people name that. Don’t rush them out of it. There’s growth in sitting with it.
Final Word: Change Is a Constant. But So Are We.
I’ve been in boardrooms long enough to see fads come and go, technologies rise and fall. I remember when we thought Flash animations were the future of digital storytelling (RIP). I remember when people said no one would ever read blogs.
This moment — with all its tension and potential — is just another chapter. Not the end.
So yes, AI will keep evolving. But so will we.
Because we always have.
What matters now isn’t how quickly we adapt, but how thoughtfully we do it. With our values intact. With our teams supported. With space for ambivalence, awe, and everything in between.
And maybe with a quiet promise to ourselves:
That in the age of machines, we’ll still choose to lead — and live — like humans.
Need help navigating AI change with empathy, strategy, and style? Let’s chat. I won’t bring a deck. Just stories, questions, and a whole lot of curiosity.
