By Jameela Sahiba and Kazim Rizvi

There is a familiar rhythm to how societies absorb transformative technologies First, alarm. Then, grudging experimentation. Then, a quiet normalisation that it becomes difficult to imagine the world before. The printing press, the camera, the digital audio workstation, each was greeted with some version of the same anxiety: that the machine would hollow out what was distinctly human about creative work. Each time, that anxiety – proved  partially right and largely wrong in ways that took a generation to fully understand.

AI appears to be following a similar trajectory. Yet much of the public debate focuses on its most dramatic possibilities rather than its most common uses.

The honest case for AI in creative work begins not with the glamorous but with the mundane. The hours lost to transcription, the money spent on iterative design drafts, the writer’s block that is really just the terror of beginning. Generative AI tools have made significant inroads into precisely these friction points, not by replacing creative judgment, but by reducing the routine technical labour – that surrounds it. A recent empirical study of Indian creative professionals by The Dialogue has documented this shift in -detail, finding meaningful reductions in production costs and timelines among those who had integrated AI into their daily workflows.

But the more interesting story is structural. India has a vast creative class that has historically been constrained not by talent but by access to professional-grade tools, skilled collaborators, and distribution networks capable of  regional work to national and global audiences. A musician in Bhopal or a filmmaker in Coimbatore  traditionally faced entry barriers that their counterparts in Mumbai or Delhi did not. AI has materially lowered some of those barriers. A single subscription can now replicate functions that once required an entire team. Multilingual content that previously demanded expensive translation, dubbing and localisation can now be produced  imperfectly but often effectively  at a fraction of the cost. The democratisation of creative production is real, even if its benefits remain uneven.

Honest accounting for risks

This is also where any honest accounting has to confront the risks, because they are neither hypothetical nor trivial.

The first is the risk of mistaking fluency for thought. Generative AI produces text, images, and audio that are coherent, with remarkable ease. This is both capability and its greatest danger. The ease of production can tempt creators into mistaking the algorithm’s output for their own voice, a confusion that is commercially self-defeating and creatively corrosive. The creators who have extracted genuine value from these tools, as the evidence consistently suggests, are those who treat AI as a rigorous first-draft collaborator rather than a ghostwriter. The distinction matters enormously.

A second risk is what AI may mean for the most vulnerable participants  in the creative labour market. The junior copywriter. The entry-level editor. The transcriptionist. These are not peripheral roles; they are, in many cases, the apprenticeship rungs on which creative careers are built. If AI removes entry-level opportunities faster than it creates accessible pathways into jobs that emerge, then the democratisation story comes with an important caveat – new roles are indeed being created – but  they require different skills, and the training infrastructure to develop those skills at scale does not yet exist in proportion to the need.

The third, and perhaps the least discussed risk, is epistemic. When a significant share of written, visual, and auditory content is generated or assisted by a small number of foundational models, the diversity of cultural output faces a quiet homogenising pressure. AI systems learn from existing data, which means they reproduce existing aesthetic and cultural patterns with high fidelity. The novel, the dissenting, the genuinely strange, these are often the hardest things for AI to generate. A creative economy that becomes over-reliant on AI risks producing work that is technically accomplished and culturally derivative.

Need of the hour

None of the above is an argument for resistance. Resistance to foundational technology is rarely coherent and almost never successful. It is, rather, an argument for clear-eyed engagement.

The history of the creative industry follows a recognisable pattern: the technology does not eliminate creative work, but it renegotiates what society pays for within it. Photography did not end painting; it freed painting from the obligation of mere representation and pushed it toward expression. Digital audio did not end musicianship; it changed where musicianship was valued and compensated. Streaming did not end storytelling; it transformed the economics through which stories reached audiences.

Each transition produced winners and losers. The losers were, often , those who treated the technology as a threat to be minimised rather than a condition to be adapted to. The winners were those who understood what the technology could not replicate and invested in precisely those capabilities.

For creative professionals in India today, the question is not whether AI will become part of the creative economy. It already is. The more important question is what remains distinctly human within it. What in your work is genuinely irreplaceable? What is the texture of your perspective, your cultural knowledge, your aesthetic sensibility, that no model trained on aggregate data can convincingly reproduce? The answer to that question is not a guarantee of economic security; markets are imperfect however, it can be a necessary starting point for a sound professional strategy.

The instinct to frame AI as either saviour or destroyer is understandable but not particularly useful. The more productive frame is this: we are in the middle of a renegotiation of what creative skill means and what it is worth. Creators, developers, institutions, and policymakers have to engage with it in a manner that requires setting aside both the reflexive fear and the uncritical enthusiasm, and asking, with some precision, what we actually want from a creative economy and what role, within it, we believe human imagination should irreducibly play.

The future of creative work will not be determined by the capabilities of AI alone. It will be shaped by the choices creators make about how they use it, the choices institutions make about how they reward originality, and the choices policymakers make about the incentives they create. Technology can expand the boundaries of creative possibility, but it cannot decide what society chooses to value. 

That question has always been worth asking. AI has simply made it urgent.

The authors are Jameela Sahiba, Associate Director-AI & Public Affairs And Kazim Rizvi Founding Director at The Dialogue respectively.

Disclaimer: The views expressed are the author’s own and do not reflect the official policy or position of Financial Express.