Artificial intelligence has begun to create couture, curate exhibitions, and write music. It assesses trends with very similar accuracy to seasoned critics, but the pulse of taste itself is still missing. Dr. Fei-Fei Li frequently reminds her colleagues that although machines can simulate sense, they are incapable of feeling emotions. She contends that consciousness—a domain that is still profoundly and exquisitely human—is the source of taste rather than calculation.
AI is becoming more and more prevalent in creative fields, and it helps professionals surprisingly well. It predicts aesthetic preferences, finds trends, and creates variations very quickly by utilizing large datasets. For example, Spotify’s recommendation system learns time, mood, and rhythm in addition to tracking behavior. However, even if computers become significantly better at predicting pleasure, their comprehension is still analytical rather than emotional.
After all, analytics cannot quantify authenticity. The emotion that is conveyed in every brushstroke is what makes a painting powerful, not symmetry or color harmony. When an artist depicts longing or loss, the feeling is experienced rather than processed. AI, on the other hand, reproduces style by association, painlessly and joyfully. Though modest on film, the difference is significant in real life.
Dr. Li’s “human-centered AI” worldview prioritizes cooperation over rivalry. According to her, technology can be very helpful in enhancing human potential. Before physical manufacturing, fashion designers, for instance, employ AI to test out patterns, lighting, and fabric drape. However, the designer’s intuition—the capacity to recognize when something just seems right—remains invaluable. Taste is defined by that instinct, which is shaped by lived experience.
| Name | Dr. Fei-Fei Li |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Computer Scientist, AI Researcher, Professor at Stanford University |
| Known For | Pioneering work in computer vision and AI ethics |
| Major Roles | Co-Director, Stanford Human-Centered AI Institute |
| Publications | “The Worlds I See: Curiosity, Exploration, and Discovery at the Dawn of AI” |
| Awards & Recognition | Named to TIME 100 AI list, National Science Foundation CAREER Award |
| Known For Advocacy | Promotes “human-centered AI” emphasizing ethics and empathy in technology |
| Reference | https://hai.stanford.edu/people/fei-fei-li |

Fashion and art brands like Prada and Balenciaga that are experimenting with AI-generated imagery effectively illustrate this dichotomy. Despite their captivating visuals, their digital ads can come across as emotionally detached. They rarely touch the soul, but they do impress the eye. The accuracy of AI can provide beauty, but not intimacy. Contradiction is the lifeblood of human taste—loving flaws, appreciating imbalance, and experiencing an unexplainable yet genuine emotion.
The food industry offers a particularly lucid example. These days, Michelin chefs combine unusual ingredients like chocolate and truffle oil using AI techniques. The chef chooses which combination works best after the algorithms offer potential combinations. The finished dish is successful not because it is optimal but rather because it conveys a narrative that is anchored in the chef’s memory, senses, and heritage. Flavor is defined by that story, not by the facts.
Similar conflicts arise while telling stories via literature and movies. AI is able to evaluate scripts and forecast which storylines will interest viewers. Filmmakers such as Greta Gerwig and Bong Joon-ho, however, prosper by doing the exact opposite—defying statistics in order to astonish and offend. Rebellion is as important to the evolution of taste as refinement. Algorithms completely lack the capacity to purposefully violate regulations and to create without authorization.
However, the impact of AI is unquestionably revolutionary. It is very effective at increasing accessibility and providing innovative assistance to people who might not have the necessary funds or technical know-how. Previously requiring costly equipment, aspiring artists can now create compositions or experiment with digital painting tools. This democratization of creativity is especially novel since it strengthens the human presence in art rather than diminishes it.
Whether audiences will continue to prioritize authenticity above convenience is the more important question. Millions of people have been enthralled by virtual influencers like Lil Miquela, who have blurred the boundaries between personality and fiction. These avatars have been meticulously designed to appear sympathetic, sensitive, and relatable. However, their charm is calculated rather than felt. Sincerity itself runs the risk of becoming less marketable than the appearance of sincerity.
AI-driven storytelling has also been used by brands to project an air of emotional intelligence. Virtual assistants create customized responses that seem remarkably human, customer service bots mimic empathy, and ads mimic speech inflection. Despite its cleverness, this duplication of emotional language brings up an unsettling fact: we might be teaching machines to sound real before teaching ourselves to stay that way.
Authenticity is a moral decision, not a design element. It is present in hesitancy, fragility, and imperfection. There is a loss of something fundamental when art is completely frictionless. Walter Benjamin, a philosopher, famously claimed that art loses its “aura” when it is replicated mechanically. AI takes that concept a step further: it runs the risk of eliminating both the author and the aura.
But there is still hope. A new worldview that views algorithms as co-creators rather than rivals is taking shape as Fei-Fei Li and her colleagues at Stanford continue to develop foundations for ethical AI. They contend that when combined with computational intelligence, the human imagination can be greatly enhanced. AI cannot provide meaning, but it can provide perspective. Emotion can be mirrored, but it cannot be embodied.

