Productivity Or Passion: Where Does The “Ghibli Style” Trend Leave Us?

The general response to OpenAI’s ChatGPT 4o’s powerful image generator has been overwhelmingly positive. Released just last week, users have commented just how realistic the images are, especially in generating visuals that are free from the usual hallmarks of botched images that even the best AI image generators couldn’t eschew.

Yet one trend has taken the world by storm; creating images in the “Ghibli style”.

Referring to Hayao Miyazaki’s distinctive style, people can simply upload a picture and ask ChatGPT 4o to reimagine it in Ghibli style. Below are some of the most recent famous images that had the treatment.

The results are pretty good. ChatGPT 4o’s ability to apply a Ghibli filter to any image is undeniably a fun tool.

Yet this application stands in stark contrast – perhaps even as an antithesis – to how Hayao Miyazaki, the pioneer of this art style and head of Studio Ghibli, approaches AI.

In a 2016 interview, the three-time Oscar winner was presented with a grotesque 3D render of a zombie made entirely with AI. He responded with “I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself” and that “I would never wish to incorporate this technology into my work at all.” You can watch the entire interview below; the full extent of his reaction is damning.

What’s interesting about Miyazaki’s response is that he didn’t reflexively condemn what he saw. He pauses before providing his statement. Instead of saying “this is utterly terrible” like a kneejerk reaction, he shared a story about his neighbor with arthritis in his hands, and the sensation of giving him a high-five with Miyazaki’s own aging hand.

His point was that AI can’t experience or express pain, struggle, or the nuances of lived sensation in the way that we can. Even if it produces a pixel-perfect render or representation of a certain style, it did so based on programmatic analysis.

It did a best guess on what the human experience should look like, devoid of the actual feeling.

And isn’t this what art, at its core, is supposed to grapple with? An expression of the human condition? A way to provoke thought and constructive discussion about where we as a human race are heading?

Miyazaki has consistently expressed his desire to raise awareness of environmentalism, specifically the tension between industrialization and the natural world. In two of his most famous films, Princess Mononoke and Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Studio Ghibli makes the point that human greed and technological advancement can devastate ecosystems. I look at a film like Grave of the Fireflies, and I’m not just enamored with the beautiful style; I’m devastated by the destruction of war and how it displaces innocent lives.

The Ghibli style isn’t just aesthetics; it’s the visual language, the medium, through which Miyazaki expresses these profound, often painful, human themes born from his own philosophy and experience.

It’s this deep connection between the visual aesthetic and the underlying human message that makes its effortless, automated replication feel so jarring. It just feels somewhat wrong to replicate the Studio Ghibli style for our own amusement, especially using technology the innovator himself finds insulting to life.

Of course, some might argue that human artists learn by copying masters too. But is it the same? Human inspiration involves filtering influences through personal experience, interpretation, struggle, and ultimately, transformation. We learn the ‘rules’ to eventually bend or break them with our own voice. Feeding an artist’s entire life’s work into an algorithm to mimic on command feels fundamentally different – less like homage, more like automated replication without understanding or intent. Does this cross an ethical line from inspiration to appropriation, especially when the original artist objects so strongly?

This brings us back to the question: when we use AI this way, are we treating it as a collaborator, or are we simply outsourcing creation itself? And if we are outsourcing, what gets lost in translation?

While the trend will likely pass, this incident highlights a persistent question: is generative AI truly good enough to replace humans in creative work that requires depth and meaning?

I’ll stand firmly to say absolutely not, at least not yet, and perhaps never in the way that truly matters.

Having worked intimately with generative AI tools and all the iterative models over the past few years, I’m still not convinced that generative AI is anywhere close to true human innovation or artistic expression. Achieving genuine nuance, the kind born from intention and lived experience, often requires endless tweaking with AI, battling errors, and incurring significant environmental costs – the energy required to train and run these powerful models is exorbitant. Often, after all that effort and impact, we only arrive at something that might mimic a style but still lacks that human spark, that connection Miyazaki spoke of.

Which brings us back to the risk Miyazaki alluded to in his interview when he said, “I feel like we are nearing the end of times. We humans are losing faith in ourselves.”

This Ghibli filter trend, while seemingly fun, perhaps embodies this very concern. Are we opting for an instant, automated aesthetic over engaging with the deeper human process of creation – whether our own or appreciating the painstaking work of another?

When ChatGPT was announced a few years ago, the excitement was uncontainable. Professionals were brainstorming all sorts of ways to automate tedious tasks. Yet it feels like we’re increasingly tempted to outsource not just the tedious, but the creative work itself to generative AI, leaving ourselves to manage repetitive tasks. Instead of using AI primarily to assist our productivity and enhance our capabilities, it feels like we’re finding ways to delegate core aspects of our creative and professional lives to these tools.

So, where does this leave us? Caught between the playful ease of ‘productivity’ tools like AI image generators and the ‘passion’ inherent in human artistry? The Ghibli style trend highlights this tension perfectly. While technology offers fascinating capabilities, using it to effortlessly replicate an artist’s soul-infused style against their wishes feels like a step towards devaluing the very human experience that art aims to capture. We risk losing something vital – respect for the artist’s intent, the value of human struggle and experience in creation, and perhaps, as Miyazaki feared, even faith in our own creative potential.

I just find it a shame if we rob ourselves of the opportunities to take creative risks, to innovate, and to truly engage with art – in all its messy, complex, human glory – just for the sake of an easy imitation.