Photography in the Age of Artificial Intelligence: Algorithms, Art and Aura.

Can debates and innovations from 100 years ago help with our struggles to understand the implications of Artificial Intelligence?

When I was at university in the 1980’s studying photography, one of the books we were tasked with reading was John Berger’s classic 1972 text Ways of Seeing, based on the TV series of the same name. It was a groundbreaking exploration of how we perceive and interpret visual culture and drew on Walter Benjamin’s seminal 1936 essay, Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.  Benjamin explored how the advent of mechanical reproduction fundamentally altered the nature, perception, and the cultural significance of art. He argued that enabling the mass production of images through technologies like photography and film, stripped artworks of their “aura” - the unique, singular presence tied to their original context and creator - and democratized access to visual culture.

The parallels with today are striking. We stand at another transformative juncture, where artificial intelligence (AI) is reshaping the medium of photography. Just as in 1936, these new technologies offer profound implications for authenticity, creativity, and the human experience in an age of algorithmic production and reproduction.

The Aura of the Photograph in the Age of AI

Benjamin argued that mechanical reproduction diminished the aura of traditional artworks by severing their ties to ritual, tradition, and uniqueness. A photograph, reproducible ad infinitum, lacks the singular presence of a painting or sculpture.

I don’t think this is the case as photography itself has an aura, a sense of capturing a fleeting moment, a unique slice of reality frozen in time. Think of the work of Sebastiao Salgado, Don McCullin, Rober Capa or Dorothea Lange. Their beautiful, haunting, thought provoking and disturbing photographs, or artworks as we could call them, certainly have that aura and are tied intimately to their creators.

The same could be said of filmmaking and the concept of the auteur – the director as creator, as author, creating a film, or artwork, that that is indelibly linked to the individual. Think of Stanley Kubrick, Akira Kurosawa or Wes Anderson.

Taking all that into account, does a piece of art exist if it is created by an algorithm – by artificial intelligence? Is that art? AI-generated images, created by models like DALL·E, Midjourney, or Stable Diffusion, challenge the very notion of photography as a record of and a response to reality. These systems can produce photorealistic images from text prompts, blending imagination and simulation without ever requiring a camera, a subject, a physical moment or indeed, a photographer.

Unlike mechanical reproduction, which duplicated an original, AI photography often lacks an “original” altogether. An AI-generated portrait of a non-existent person or a landscape that never was, exists only as a digital artifact, infinitely malleable and reproducible.

If a photograph no longer requires a referent in the physical world, or even a photographer, does it still carry the weight of truth or memory that once defined the medium? The aura now faces a new challenge: the dissolution of the real itself.

I know we’re getting philosophical here and I want to just ask your patience a little longer as I think there’s an analogy here with sport.

In 1996 then World Chess Champion Garry Kasparov sat down opposite the IBM supercomputer Deep Blue to play a match under tournament conditions. That game made headlines around the world when Kasparov was forced to resign after just 37 moves. Chess was seen as the ultimate game of intellect and the world’s greatest player had just been beaten by a machine. But what did that mean?

The escalating complexity and dexterity of robotics could soon be challenging the greatest players in sports such as golf or athletics. What would it mean if a robot won the Open Championship in golf or ran the 100 meters in under 9 seconds and won the Olympic Gold Medal?

Frankly, both those scenarios really mean nothing, because sport is a human competitive drama, not an absolute activity in terms of statistics or actions. The beauty, the agony and the ecstasy of sport is that it is human – it can be unpredictable because it is played out by humans, not machines, and we relate to it so passionately because we care about those individuals or teams.

In the same way, photography or film or art more broadly, is a human activity, a transfer from one human to another - a statement, an emotion, a plea, a moment in the creator’s life and a moment in time. When that moment is erased, when the image is produced out of the real world in an atemporal algorithmic mode, then does it become simply content, not art? It’s a question with no straightforward answer because there is no definite definition of what art is.

Technology then at once liberates through its applications and its democratisation, and confines through its ubiquity in equal measure.

Democratisation and the Proliferation of Images

Just as mechanical reproduction made art accessible to the masses, that ubiquity has been enabled by the propagation digital technology, removing the barriers to creating and sharing photographic images. Where once photography required technical skill, expensive equipment, and darkroom expertise, digital cameras and smartphones have enabled anyone to generate and distribute professional-quality images in seconds.

Now with AI platforms like Lensa or Adobe’s Firefly, users can create portraits, landscapes, or fantastical scenes with minimal effort, democratizing creativity in unprecedented ways. Benjamin noted that mechanical reproduction shifted art’s function from ritual to politics, as images became tools for mass communication, public opinion and propaganda - the likes of Don McCullin for example, changed public perception of the Vietnam War with his photography.

Artificial Intelligence amplifies this shift, but with new stakes. The sheer volume of AI-generated images flooding social media platforms—often indistinguishable from traditional photographs—has made visual culture more pervasive and manipulative. Deepfakes, synthetic portraits, and algorithmically altered images can sway public opinion, spread misinformation, or reshape cultural narratives with alarming ease and speed. The accessibility of AI photography thus empowers individuals while simultaneously amplifying the potential for deception and control.

The Role of the Photographer

Where does that leave the photographer? In the age of AI, the photographer’s role is further transformed. AI tools can automate image processing and editing, can change composition, lighting, colour grading, and even subject selection, reducing the need for technical mastery. Are photographers then becoming more like curators or directors, guiding algorithms rather than crafting images from scratch? Are we then photographers at all?

This evolution also sparks a debate about nature of creativity. Is an AI-generated image a work of art if the human contribution is limited to a text prompt? Some argue that AI is merely a tool, like a camera or piece of editing software, extending human vision rather than replacing it. Others contend that the algorithm itself becomes a co-creator, blurring the line between human and machine agency. If mechanical reproduction distanced art from human intention, does AI takes it further away? The machine not only reproducing but also generating, often with unpredictable results.

Cultural and Ethical Implications

The cultural implications of AI image making are profound, introducing new ethical dilemmas, with AI’s ability to generate photorealistic images of nonexistent people or events and portray them as real challenging our trust in visual evidence.

In an era of “fake news” and digital manipulation, the photograph—once a cornerstone of documentary truth—becomes suspect. This erosion of trust extends the concerns around the loss of human creation – the aura – and pushes them into a post-truth landscape where reality itself is negotiable and obfuscated.

Photography’s Future?

In 1925 the world of photography and photographic technology was turned upside down by the launch of the Leica 1 camera at the Leipzig Spring Fair. Unlike existing camera equipment it was small, lightweight and portable. It also used 35mm film, a format only previously used in motion picture production. It ushered in a whole new era of photojournalism, street photography and candid portraiture.

Leica 1

Despite all the challenges I mentioned previously, AI photography opens new aesthetic possibilities, just as Leica had a century earlier. Just as that camera gave rise to new art forms in photography, AI is birthing hybrid genres that blend photography, painting, and digital art. Artists like Refik Anadol or Mario Klingemann use AI to create dreamlike, surreal images that push the boundaries of visual storytelling. These works, unbound by physical reality, invite us to reconsider what a photograph can be—not a mirror of the world, but a window into the imagination.

The innovation of technological tools in creative practice then can be seen as both a loss and a liberation, freeing art from tradition in often difficult and challenging ways but also enabling new forms of expression. AI photography perhaps embodies a similar duality. It undermines the photograph’s claim to truth but liberates it from the constraints of reality, allowing for unprecedented creativity. The challenge for photographers, artists, and society is to navigate this new landscape thoughtfully and responsibly.

Conclusion

In Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, Benjamin foresaw how technology could transform art’s role in society, stripping away its aura while making it more accessible and politically potent. AI photography represents the next chapter in this story, pushing the boundaries of what a photograph is and can be. The age of AI photography demands not only technical innovation but also critical reflection on how we create, consume, and understand images in a world where the line between real and artificial is blurred to the point of being invisble.

Just as mechanical reproduction reshaped art and just as the Leica 1 reshaped photography 100 years ago, so AI is redefining photography once again, opening a new chapter in the understanding of visual culture. Far from an end to photography, this technological shift is reenergising it.

Alongside these cutting edge technological developments, traditional film photography is blossoming with more young photographers turning to celluloid film and mechanical cameras than ever. It is a scenario also seen in music with the rebirth of vinyl records and in publishing with the huge rise in physical book sales. This is not an anti-technology movement, a hipster moment or a nostalgia for past glories, it is simply a recognition that technology does not necessarily make things better for everyone and a creative practice as rich and diverse as photography offers many routes to creativity and an audience.

Despite all these technological shifts over the past 100 years, the power of photography and the photographic image ultimately lies in the relationship between the eye and the heart of the photographer and the eye and the heart of the viewer. A photograph is a human response to the beauty, tragedy and transient nature of the world. Long may that be the case.