'I Used AI to Beat Real Photos in a Major Competition'

When I first started working with AI a year ago it took me 20 minutes to generate one image. Now, I press a button and have an image in five seconds.

Originally, I knew of just one program that generated images from text prompts, but I have been amazed at how quickly the volume of online tools has increased in the past 12 months. It's like there was a big bang and now it's accelerating nonstop.

As a media artist who has been photographing since 1989, I love AI image generators. While I see many similarities between the two mediums, when using AI I am freed from any restrictions, whether they be material or environmental.

For example, in Germany I spent years only photographing at night, but when generating an image it doesn't matter what time of the day it is. I don't have to think: "What is my budget? How can I convince somebody to be my model? Is my camera still good enough?" All of those elements are gone.

To me, the beauty of working with AI is that I work with my immaterial knowledge. I feel AI is an accelerator; something taking my experience and projecting it further. I'm the director. I decide where to go. I make the choices.

I have always loved the element of surprise while photographing. But in the same way, I am always surprised by the suggestions of an AI image generator. I lead the way, but there are still components I have to react to and say: "Okay I want more of this, I want less of that."

How I Used AI-Generated Images for Art

As someone who has been vocal in the art community about the use of AI, I began thinking about whether any photography competitions had considered this huge increase in AI-generated images and taken into account that someone may apply using one.

When I came across The Sony World Photography Awards, I decided to enter with an artificially produced image. In my eyes, I was like a hacker testing a system for weak spots; I never wanted to exploit the competition, but to point out this was an area that needed addressing.

In September 2022 I produced an image called The Electrician for my series Pseudomnesia using OpenAI's DALL·E 2. I used a text prompt to create the image, which means I described what the image should look like.

When producing an image, the prompt can be long and complex, all my knowledge can be part of it. For example, if you want a photo of pizza, then yes, you can type in the word pizza and the rest is done by the machine.

However, you can say: "I want a picture of a pizza taken with a Polaroid, DSLR or even CCTV camera." You can specify that you want the pizza to be tomato and basil. It has an emotional quality; does the pizza look delicious, or burned, or disgusting?

Are we looking down on the pizza from a certain angle? Is it on a plate or lying on the floor? Is there a certain light around the pizza? Where does the light come from? What kind of colors am I using? Are we using bright, vintage, monochromatic, summer or winter colors?

Winning The Sony World Photography Awards

I never expected to win the photography contest in March 2023. I decided to tell the organizers the truth up front.

I said: "You have the choice of disqualifying me and giving it to someone else, or you can give it to me, and if you chose the latter I strongly recommend having an open discussion about it."

I recommended hosting a forum about photography and AI; whether it makes sense or not, whether we should mix things up.

I didn't receive a response to this request. Officials said I could keep the prize and that it would be nice if I came to the award ceremony. There was no explanation or position on the fact it was AI.

I hoped the initial press release announcing the winners would hint at the fact that it was the first AI-generated image to win such a prestigious competition, but it didn't.

They could have said: "We already knew that it was AI and wanted AI to be part of this contest." Or: "We were surprised, but it makes sense to come up with a category next year."

It felt to me that the competition just wanted to continue with business as usual, but soon the press began inquiring as to whether the image was artificially generated. I wrote a statement answering the question and sent it to competition officials to use, but it wasn't released.

I began to hear from photographers who were outraged that the image was AI and I had to explain to them that this was a test, that I knew it was AI, the organizers know it's AI, but nobody wanted to talk about it.

Eventually, communication with competition officials about this topic fizzled out, and it felt as though they were trying to save face. I attended the award ceremony and despite not being scheduled to talk, went on stage to read out my statement.

Afterward, I went to the hotel and posted my statement on my website and social media, before sending an email to the organizers with my statement, asking them not to send me the prize because I didn't want it. I asked them to donate it to the Odesa International Film Festival in Ukraine.

The next day my photograph and name were removed from the web page. My image was also removed from the exhibition opening. I haven't heard from them since.

I was never participating in the competition because I wanted to win and I don't feel any pity for myself after returning the award. It was something I wanted to do for the art community.

Humans Versus Artificial Intelligence

In my opinion, artists as human beings are very important. They must connect what they are generating to the world, to the human condition. And in my view, only if we direct it, do we create images that have a certain emotional quality, that are defined as art.

I want an artwork to be open enough to give you an impulse. The question is, what do I feel looking at that artwork? What kind of memories are triggered? What kind of ideas? Why am I appalled? Why am I attracted?

I believe you can learn a lot about yourself if you look at artwork this way.

The question of how creative a person is during this process is a complex one—and most people that dislike AI would claim you do nothing—but I'm not afraid that I will be replaced.

As all humans are, I am a unique mix that only exists once.

Boris Eldagsen is a Berlin-based photo and video artist. You can visit his website here.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

As told to Newsweek's My Turn associate editor, Monica Greep.

Do you have a unique experience or personal story to share? Email the My Turn team at myturn@newsweek.com.