Use of AI in Raising Luminaries
This section of our accountability statement is to address (1) criticisms (none that ever come from those who reciprocate for my work, always with an ignorant level of hostility and judgement, and often from folks who make a quality of art I would *never* consider hiring for Raising Luminaries publications) and (2) answer questions from those who are genuinely curious on why I use AI and how you can help us head down a more ethical path.
AFFORDABILITY
I use AI-generated images because it’s an accessibility tool that allows me to survive in a system that exploits my labor, in the absence of reasonable alternatives. That’s the short version. The longer version? I do not receive financial support to pay for stock images, nor do I have the spare time to hunt for free stock images. And let’s be real—complaints about AI image use always come from people who have zero interest in compensating me for the free labor and education I provide.
I host, pay for, research, facilitate, create, and maintain Raising Luminaries entirely on my own, for less than a living wage. Many of my services are free, and the rest are available on a steeply sliding scale. If folks truly care about the ethics of AI and want to see a shift toward paying artists for custom artwork, I wholeheartedly invite financial contributions to make that happen.
IMAGE NECESSITY
We all know that text-only content gets buried in the feed. Algorithms downgrade it, and without images, people scroll right past. Finding and attaching relevant, engaging visuals is necessary for visibility and survival in digital spaces. Additionally, creative and relevant images support people with executive functioning and other disabilities who rely on visual markers to determine what content is worth engaging with.
Not using images simply isn’t an option—unless, of course, those concerned about AI would like to contribute their own time, labor, or funds to help me find another workaround.
I used to spend 2+ hours searching for and creating images for every Raising Luminaries post and newsletter. It was unsustainable. And that extra time taken? It meant I published less content. Meanwhile, critics demanded, “But what about [insert urgent issue here]?!”—as if I could cover every topic while also wasting my time fiddling around in Canva.
So here’s the deal: Either I publish more about a wider range of topics and use AI as an efficiency tool, or I publish less and spend my limited time making images from scratch. Personally, I find my work more sustainable if I can enjoy AI image creation as a hobby while also amplifying more critical conversations.
ETHICAL CONSUMPTION UNDER CHANGING TECHNOLOGY
After years of metaphorically raising my own cows, paying for their feed, and churning my own butter, I’ve accepted that some shortcuts are necessary to survive. We all make compromises—like buying cheap butter at the grocery store despite the exploitation of dairy farmers, factory farms, and carbon emissions. Ethical purity under capitalism is an illusion.
I’m old enough to remember people freaking out about email and websites, claiming they’d put postal workers and book publishers out of business. Industries evolve. That doesn’t mean we ignore harm, but it does mean we have to focus on the actual threats instead of making artists and small creators the scapegoats.
The AI cat is out of the bag, and rather than fixating on purity politics, we need to rally around preventing corporations and oligarchs from weaponizing AI against us. The reality is that large corporations and people who do have the funds to commission artwork are already using AI—without consequence.
So if you’re mad about AI, ask yourself: Are you boycotting your favorite movie because they use AI? Your favorite snack brands, clothing brands, mortgage lender, podcaster, or local educators? Because they all will be using AI within five years, if they aren’t already. Not using AI out of spite is like insisting on churning your own butter. Environmentally responsible? Sure. Best use of time? Not really.
SUPPORTING ARTISTS
I trained as a graphic designer and photographer in the early 2000s—back when we still used film and X-acto knives. And the second I graduated, everything went digital. That’s how art and technology work: they evolve.
There are real concerns about AI scraping intellectual property, but let’s not pretend this is new. In the early 2000s, the panic was about artistic mimicry—copying someone’s style or composition. And yet, in art school, you learn that all art is built on the work of others. AI doesn’t do anything different—it just deconstructs and reconstructs at a speed that humans can’t comprehend and therefore find very creepy.
For over a decade, businesses and corporations have stolen my work for their own use, without consequence. As a sole proprietor photographer, I found it annoying when people ripped off my work, but I never saw it as an economic threat. They weren’t stealing my business because they weren’t my audience.
Likewise, AI isn’t taking work from the artists I’d hire because—spoiler—I can’t afford to hire them in the first place. AI is not stealing my dollars because I have no dollars to divert.
Digital design and photography were once seen as lazy shortcuts, too. But digital technology has liberated independent creators and small businesses, allowing them to participate in visual culture in ways they otherwise couldn’t afford. AI is simply the next evolution of that.
ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACT & EMBRACING HYPOCRISY
Some people fly in planes. Some people drive gas-powered cars. Some people use plastic straws. Some people buy factory-farmed onions. Some people use electric toothbrushes instead of bamboo husks. These are all choices made for survival, accessibility, or even just joy. I’m not in the business of judging people for doing what they need to do to get by.
I do my best to mitigate my impact—I walk everywhere, and a few times a year when I drive, it’s electric. I invest in solar panels instead of vacations, keep my house uncomfortably cold in the winter, and invest my time in growing native landscapes. I donate to causes and organizations I amplify to you, and participate in my local Buy Nothing economy. All of this is expensive and tedious and much of it leans toward ethical purity. And yet, somehow, my AI image use is the thing people fixate on.
And let’s be honest: Most of this criticism comes from people on Facebook—a platform built on the unpaid labor and intellectual property theft of millions of artists, writers, and administrators. Users consume our unpaid labor and rip off our art. If you’re here, using Facebook, while coming for me about AI use, I have to ask—what, exactly, are you doing to actually help artists and workers like us?
I exist on this platform because it’s the best way to make my resources accessible to the people who need them most. That’s the best choice for particularly vulnerable members of community. And if you have a better option that isn’t just a purity flex? I’m all ears.
AI AS AN ACCESSIBILITY TOOL
I’m autistic, and AI helps me manage the workload of running Raising Luminaries as a sole creator with executive functioning disabilities. I use AI to clean up my text because I can’t afford a copy editor. It also helps me create guidelines and break down complex tasks so I can work more efficiently. AI isn’t a luxury—it’s a necessity that makes my work sustainable.
This document was last edited February 2025 by Ashia R. upon request from our Luminary Braintrust members as a time-saving resources instead of dumping an hour of labor into responding to every stranger’s ‘gotcha’ comment
