Let Me Tell You a Story.

It's hard for me to spend any time whatsoever online and not be absolutely disgusted by the outpouring of enthusiasm for the so-called wonders of AI. Especially AI as it pertains to creativity, like making movies, creating images or even advertisements.

What annoys me isn't the artistry of AI--it can create some awesome visuals and imaginary worlds. What annoys me is that the people using AI have, it seems, no real understanding of what makes a communication "work."

It seems to me AI is being used mostly to make nice looking garbage.

As friend and ad legend Dave Trott points out in the movie below, every effective human communication since the beginning of time, must be made up of the three strata found in the drawing above, and they must work in that order.

Most of what I see online, while beautifully "shot," has no impact, no stopping power, no development, no "startle" Further, most often, no story is developed. Just a minute of related or unrelated images strung together with a piece of music, which also may have no arc to it. Finally, there's no compelling reason why. The viewer is asked to do nothing at all. Which always leave me wondering, "why did I waste three minutes on that?"

For years, I've been sharing this video, of Kurt Vonnegut, with clients whom I think will benefit from the four minutes it asks for. Stories, no matter who they're told by, human or machine, need a story arc. They need a beginning, a middle, and an end. They need, at some level, to have taken you on some sort of a voyage of discovery.

Not too long ago in his substack, my friend, Rob Schwartz wrote this essay on the "Seven Stories that Rule the World." That's right, from Homer the blind poet to Homer Simpson, there are really on seven basic stories. (Vonnegut, above, delineates eight.)

I've spent the entirety of my life in advertising not calling myself a story-teller, and frankly, I hate the phrase, especially since most often we're selling clear plastic wrap, a mayonnaise or a fast-food chaluparitto.

Nevertheless, just as there are only seven jokes, there are just seven stories.

Even Shakespeare in "As You Like It" got the memo. I've annotated it for you below.

The Jungians might feel slightly different. But the idea is the same.

Things like stories have arcs. They aren't random. They aren't optional. They're ruled by the accumulation of 300,000 years of human intercourse on our warming planet. 300,000 years of what works, what grabs people and what doesn't. Whether a story is told by a human or a pixellized mix-master, it's still governed by the genetic code that is hard-wired in all of us.

Years ago when I still worked for WPP, someone asked me to evaluate another creative person. I answered honestly. Which is not what was wanted or appreciated.

I said something like, "they've never written on a page with a bottom. That is, they've never had to write 'just enough.' Or had to write a script that got its point across in just thirty-seconds. Or written a video for a trade show that had to quiet a noisy audience. Or created something that had to work outside of a forced-exposure conference room."

There's a lot to be said about the artistic and cinematic abilities of AI. But as Komar and Melamid revealed twenty years ago in their piece of "Most Wanted Paintings," art isn't just about aesthetics. Writing isn't just about euphony. Singing isn't just about voice quality. Neither is AI just about visual accomplishment.

Before we use machines to make stories, we ought to understand the structure of what makes a story actually work.

The end.