Hang around with photographers long enough, and eventually you'll hear one ask of a photograph, "Where is the story?" Or some other comment about story in images, inevitably, it seems to me, leading to the conclusion that, all other things being equal, an image with a story is superior to one without.

While I harbor some doubts about the certainty of that conclusion, I also understand where it comes from. Fiction is important because the stories there help us understand our human condition; storytelling, as far as we know, is as old as we are.

In addition to helping us understand who we are as a species, as a tribe, as individuals, they also help us to understand how to behave while we are here on this earth. The fairly tales of the Brothers Grimm are one famous example of this; the Judaic and Christian bibles are others. As children, we love to hear stories about our family (and as we get older, we love to tell them) because they help us understand many things: who we are, where we come from, to whom we belong and what we believe, to name just a few.

And of course, one of the most important stories is the one playing out constantly in our heads. We make up things in order to help us understand, or simply cope: "She cut me off - she must be having a bad day." "My boss is upset; it must be my sub-par performance." "

Stories can be extremely useful and satisfying. They can also lead us astray, sometimes dangerously so. One only has to look at the unfortunate results of so many conspiracy theories to see that. Yet even within us as individuals, the stories we tell ourselves about our and others' behaviors can lead us into depression, resentment, even anger. "My wife left her dirty socks on the dining room table. She's having an affair!"

The power of such narratives needs to be regarded with respect. It helps us, as we learn stories, to learn how to decode them. This was my standard answer to the tenth graders who perennially asked, "Who cares why the character did it? " They had a point - analyzing and decoding stories can sometimes be taken to absurd extremes. But that doesn't mean it's a useless skill; on the contrary, it's an important one.

So how does AI do with this?

I popped into Microsoft's Co-Pilot and entered the following prompt:

"Can you write a story in 150 words or fewer that gives insight into what it means to be human?"

Not an easy task at all, but Co-Pilot seemed to think it was. With its usual perky cooperativeness, it spit out the following in a few seconds:

"The Last Seed"

In a world scorched by centuries of neglect, Mira found the last seed buried in a rusted tin beneath the ruins of a library. She held it like a relic, unsure if it could still grow. The soil was dry, the sky unkind, but she planted it anyway—watering it with her tears, shielding it with her hands.

Days passed. Nothing.

Then, a sprout.

Children gathered, wide-eyed. Elders wept. It wasn’t just a plant—it was proof. Proof that hope could outlive despair, that care could reverse ruin, that something fragile could still rise.

Mira smiled. To be human, she realized, is not to conquer the world, but to nurture it—even when it seems beyond saving."

This is clearly trite and sentimental (and I'm NOT going to be cynical and suggest that it may indeed be an accurate description of some portion of humanity) and I could legitimately be criticized for conjuring a lousy prompt.

Nonetheless - what does AI know about being human? Absolutely nothing, of course, which is why it could not be self-aware enough to think - to actually think - oh, this is not good, I should re-write this.

Or could it?

From Co-Pilot I drifted over to Duck.ai and asked for a critique of this story. Here's what I got.

✍️ Critique of "The Last Seed"

🌱 Strengths Theme of Hope and Resilience: The story beautifully encapsulates the theme of hope in a desolate world. Mira's act of planting the last seed symbolizes the enduring human spirit and the belief that even in the direst circumstances, life can emerge. This theme resonates deeply, especially in today's context of environmental concerns.

Imagery and Symbolism: The imagery of the "last seed" and the "rusted tin" effectively conveys a sense of loss and neglect. The seed itself serves as a powerful symbol of potential and renewal, while the library's ruins suggest a loss of knowledge and culture. This contrast enriches the narrative and invites readers to reflect on the importance of nurturing both nature and knowledge.

Emotional Depth: The emotional weight of Mira's actions—watering the seed with her tears—adds a poignant layer to the story. It illustrates her deep connection to the seed and her longing for a better future, making her journey relatable and impactful.

🌾 Areas for Improvement

Character Development: While Mira's determination is evident, the story could benefit from deeper character exploration. Providing more background on her motivations or past experiences could enhance readers' connection to her. For instance, what led her to this desolate world? What personal stakes does she have in nurturing this seed?

Pacing and Structure: The transition from despair to hope happens quite rapidly. Expanding on the days of waiting could build tension and anticipation. Describing Mira's thoughts and feelings during this time could create a more immersive experience, allowing readers to feel the weight of her uncertainty before the sprout appears.

Dialogue and Interaction: The story primarily focuses on Mira's internal journey. Introducing dialogue or interactions with other characters, such as the children or elders, could enrich the narrative. Their reactions to the sprout could provide additional perspectives on hope and community, enhancing the overall message.

🌍 Conclusion

"The Last Seed" is a compelling short story that effectively conveys themes of hope and resilience in a bleak world. With some enhancements in character development, pacing, and interaction, it has the potential to resonate even more profoundly with readers. The imagery and emotional depth already present lay a strong foundation for a powerful narrative about nurturing life against all odds.

Obviously there is something missing here, and that something is the meaning of the words.

So now: let's bring this around to photography. A small group of us meet online once a month and show our work to one another. It's mainly about creative accountability: what have you done this month? This month, however, we decided to have a theme, and that them was minimalism.

I scoured my photos to see what I had that would fit the bill, and found quite a few landscapes and such, but nothing around a portrait. So, being the lazy person I am, I turned to AI.

My prompt was for an "8 x 10 portrait of a woman with a squarish face from the collar bone up with her hair pulled back and tight against the skull. The image should be photorealistic, with the only source of lighting being from the viewer's left, illuminating just the edges of her features, so that just one side of her face is lit. Black background. Overall, the image should be mysterious and dark. She is facing the viewer."

I said nothing about the race or ethnicity of the woman, nor her age or her attractiveness. The four images generated however, were all of young, beautiful white women, which is interesting because of the AI's interpretation of that word, "Woman."

60% of people are Asian. Only 14% of the world's population live in Europe and North America combined. (She could be Australian though. So let's round that up to 14.0001%) The median age for women is slightly less than 32, and while there are no statistics on attractiveness, a quick guess would put the AI model in the top 1%.

Theoretically, then, the prompt "woman" should return a 32-year-old Asian woman of average attractiveness.

Let's be kind toward the AI and make up a few stories about why it did this. 1. It was assuming, since I asked for a photorealistic shot, that I was wanting something from a professional photo, which very often uses attractive models. Or, 2, that it looked at the geographical location of where my prompt came from and wanted to deliver what it thought I wanted - someone white. Or 3, this was the kind of response most likely to make me happy (and therefore to return to using the service).

Changing the gender of the model gave very similar results: young, attractive, white.

Why is that?

Skipping over this question for the moment, this is the story AI is telling us - or at least me - about ourselves right now. That beauty and youth and whiteness are the norm, when they absolutely are not. And this false narrative is damaging in so many ways because, as mentioned earlier, we need stories to understand ourselves. And the ones told without words - those told in images - can be so much more powerful, precisely because they are wordless.

In the end, I remain unconvinced that anything but people can tell us compelling, truthful, authentic stories about ourselves and what it means to experience this human awareness. And that the ability to decode those stories in equally thoughtful, sensitive and compelling ways is becoming critical as we are constantly exposed to an ever-increasing number of narratives from sources we do not know.