I really don’t have time for this. I should be doing the last minute read of Warborn Legacy. Instead, I’m distracted and angry for my friends at Raconteur Press. If you aren’t familiar with them, they’re the little press that can, no matter what anyone else says. Maybe that’s why this happened. More likely, however (and this is only supposition), someone got their panties in a wad and whined to the powers-that-be at the Dragon Awards. The result is that the excellent cover (and artist) for RP’s anthology, The Goblin Market, was initially shown to be a finalist for Best Illustrative Cover and then it magically disappeared from the ballot—sorry, from the listing of titles/covers on the ballot.
This initially caused concern because there was no communication between these powers-that-be and either Cedar Sanderson, the artist, or with RP. It just happened. When folks tried to find out why, they were met with crickets. Now, fans being fans, they wanted to know what was going on. Unfortunately, no one at RP knew. So emails started winging their way toward the Awards folks. I can only imagine their consternation to not only have been caught out on this but to actually have their actions called into question.
More than 24 hours after the fact, RP finally received a response from Dave Cody, co-chair of the awards. You can read the full response here, but let me boil it down for you. Cedar was a bad girl in their eyes because she—gasp—uses AI as a tool in her art. That doesn’t meet the award’s high standards (coff).
Now, I wouldn’t have a problem with this if—and this is a big if—the policy was made known before nominations went out. Or if those making the nominations (you know, the fans) were informed of the prohibition beforehand. Or if the voters were told. But no, no where could I find any such prohibition being made public.
So what happened?
We may never know. I can speculate, but I won’t. I will say that if Dragon, and other awards, are going to limit eligibility to art or any other work that doesn’t take advantage of AI tools, they will find the pool of potential winners seriously diminished. Think about it. If you use a word processing program or app, you are using AI. From predictive text to spell check and grammar check, to some of the new review tools, these programs are filled with AI. Photoshop and similar programs also utilize aspects of AI as well.
Are we going to require artists to prove they hand drew and then colored in the art used on a cover? Are we going to require writers to enter their hand-written drafts?
Or are we going to act like adults and simply make sure AI is used as a tool and not as the creator?
The Dragon Awards are free to prohibit the use of AI in artwork going forward. But they dropped the ball big time here. For the sake of the awards, they need to be transparent now. Did they require the artists who did make it onto the ballot to prove they did not use AI? What did they do to determine if AI was used on Cedar’s cover and did they do the same with the other covers?
Or are they going to admit what some of us already suspect: that they bent to the outraged will of one or two vocal folks and removed Cedar’s cover from consideration simply because she has made no secret of the fact she uses AI as a tool and isn’t always a “pure” artist?
The language they used “we were made aware” is telling too.
I know this is about spitting facts and raising questions. Which usually means the questions are the true subject. But I wanted to comment on one of the facts.
I’ve raised the question about digital writing tools in response to AI fear threads whenever I have endured them. Choosing the word endured was deliberate. Why? Because the only story I have gotten through the editorial process wouldn’t ever have been written without the advantages AI provides. Full disclosure: that story was published in Goblin Market.
The twenty-third anniversary of the accident that amputated the three central fingers on my left hand is looming. If you are curious, that bloody handprint for an icon demonstrates where my fingers now end. That moment changed everything from my symmetry to self-imagery. I could focus on things like relearning how to tie my darn shoes. But I won’t, mostly because I want to focus on how I write stories so they are presentable to an editor.
If you are a deliberate reader and look at the Qwerty keyboard, named for the left top row, you may have already noticed something that fans of Wheel of Fortune know without much thought. Six of the most prominent letters in the English alphabet are keyed with the left hand. Imagine learning to type again, using only your pinky. Heck, you don’t even have to imagine. Put a pen in your left hand and type a ten-word response, and you will get a glimpse of what it’s like for a triple digit amputee to type. At the time of the accident, I was part of Popcap’s beta team. The same company that gave the world Bejeweled gave us Typershark. Popcap was very happy with my feedback, at least in part due to my complications. I learned to type again, and I learned to fix the inevitable mistakes. And yes, Typershark had a fundamental element of AI. Comparison. It doesn’t matter if it’s a word string or sentence syntax. AI compares an input against expectation.
That is why I’m writing this. Because AI tools teach as well as assemble. That’s another deliberate word choice. I withhold commentary on what AI yields because AI teaches as well.
When I caught the writing bug a year ago, it seemed like Grammarly was gigging me every fourth sentence for passivity. I find it interesting that I rarely write passively now. But I understand why. Having to spend effort editing that crap out pushed me into not doing it. AI is not a creator; it is a tool. Every tool can be used for good or evil. The tool that took my fingers was a table saw. Back then, safety stops were not available. My response could have varied from demanding table saws banned to accepting and moving on at the speed of perseverance. I chose the latter.
Every time the Neo Luddites score a ‘win,’ there is an inherent loss. The loss is the utility of an educational tool. On the topic of AI, I am not a Technocrat. I do have concerns, but I approach them openly. I can’t write about what Cedar Sanderson did or didn’t do, and I’m not. But I will write about DragonCon's response.
There was a moment when DragonCon faced the choice of banning or accepting. They chose to ban. AI is controversial—we all understand that—but DragonCon’s awards are granted by VOTE. DragonCon has decided to placate the crowd by removing the option from the ballot. For the permanent record, the ‘accept and move on’ choice would have been to point out that the winner is selected by ballot, let the nomination stand, and let the voters' voice be even more meaningful. You cannot value the wisdom of crowds and then refuse to let the crowd have their say without raising questions about your motives.