Everyone involved in AI is lying a little. Just in different directions.
Studios use AI quietly, then talk about “human craftsmanship.” Tech companies show slick demos and imply the machine did everything solo. Workers toggle between bragging about AI fluency and hiding it like a cheat sheet under the desk. Same technology. Opposite stories.
In Hollywood, AI is the ghost in the editing room. It tweaks accents, cleans dialogue, polishes scripts. But no one wants to be the first to say how much. The audience wants artistry. Unions want job security. So the industry developed a soft shrug. Yes, tools are used. But, no, they won’t “replace” anyone.
Corporate America plays a louder game. “AI-powered” is the new “organic.” Mention that magical phrase and investors' ears perk up and their purse strings loosen a bit more. Sometimes the AI is real. Sometimes it is a thin software layer wrapped in buzzwords. These days, calling something AI signals innovation whether or not the underlying machinery deserves the label.
Workers are stuck in the strangest spot. Use AI too openly and you look replaceable. Refuse to use it and you look obsolete. So people perform competence in both directions. They quietly paste prompts into ChatGPT, then edit heavily. Or they nod in meetings about automation they barely touch. It is career self-defense.
Underneath all of this is something very human: fear of being left behind and fear of being replaced. AI has become a status marker. Using it signals modernity. Denying it signals authenticity. Both can be useful. Neither guarantees truth.
The technology is powerful. The confusion is cultural. And until the incentives change, the storytelling around AI will keep bending toward whatever version feels safest to sell.
