Why Narcissists Love AI Art
AI has opened up a world of creative possibilities that I’ve been exploring with curiosity and excitement. I’m genuinely impressed by what the technology can do, and I love using it as a tool to experiment and express myself in new ways. Each piece I create feels like a little expedition into my psyche—a way to learn more about myself, my influences, and what makes me tick. But not everyone approaches AI the same way, and that’s something I’ve struggled to come to terms with.
It’s hard to ignore how many narcissists have been drawn to AI. The technology makes it possible to create high-quality work without the years of effort or skill development that traditionally go into artistic mastery. For those who thrive on attention, AI is perfect—it lets them churn out visually stunning pieces that grab likes, shares, and praise, even if the work itself lacks emotional depth. Social media amplifies this dynamic, rewarding flashy, surface-level creations over anything meaningful or honest. I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen hollow work celebrated simply because it looks impressive at first glance.
Personally, I approach AI differently. I joke when people praise my videos, saying, “Thanks, but my computer did most of the work.” I find it hard to take full credit because I see AI as a collaborator, not as a means to feed my ego. Yet, I’ve noticed that others in the space have no problem soaking up the accolades, whether they’ve earned them or not. It’s frustrating because, to me, their work often feels empty, like it’s all show with no substance. When they do try to infuse it with meaning or artistry, it comes across as forced and unnatural, which, coupled with the quirks and robotic nature of AI, makes it so easy for me to spot.
But here’s the part that gets to me: these creators—driven by ego and a thirst for validation—often get more engagement than I do. I know follower counts and likes are shallow metrics to measure success by, but it’s hard not to notice. Sometimes I wonder if society values narcissism more than honest emotional work. Is it that my work just isn’t as good as I think it is? Or is it that the system rewards the loudest voices, not the ones with the most to say?
I think the answer lies somewhere in between. Social media has created a culture where success is tied to attention, and narcissists are masters of the game. They know how to market themselves, play the algorithm, and create a spectacle that grabs people’s eyes. It’s not that my work isn’t good—it’s that the space I’m working in doesn’t always value depth. That can be discouraging, but it also makes me more determined to stick to my principles.
I value the ability to express myself through art, and each piece I create is a metaphor for everything I am—my philosophies, my interests, my emotions. Creating is a deeply personal venture, but it’s also something I get to share with others. Hearing how my work affects people, whether it brings them joy, leads to a discovery, or even if they hate it, fascinates me. I love that everyone connects with art in their own unique way. It’s what makes it worth doing, even in a space dominated by narcissistic noise.
At the end of the day, AI is just a tool. What matters is how and why it’s used. For some, it’s a way to explore and connect; for others, it’s a shortcut to validation. The challenge is staying true to what you value while navigating a system that often rewards the opposite. I know my work comes from a place of curiosity, honesty, and a desire to provide something meaningful. That might not get me the most likes, but it’s the kind of work I can be proud of. And in a world full of hollow content, authenticity still matters—even if it takes longer to be seen.