【International Date Line Commentary】AI can simulate Studio Ghibli's style, but does it truly understand the soul of Hayao Miyazaki?
- byVic

讀後心得
The author Yi姐 explores the recent rise of the "Ghibli-style" image generation trend in the community and reflects on the emotions it brings. She mentions that while these images are cute, they cannot truly convey the soul and story behind the creation. AI can mimic styles, but it cannot replicate the unique experiences and emotions of the creator. Yi姐 emphasizes that creation is not merely a pursuit of traffic, but a way to express feelings and insights in life. She hopes to use automated tools to help those creators who have potential but remain unheard, allowing more stories to be seen. In the end, Yi姐 reminds everyone that creation is an extension of life that cannot be replaced, and the true value lies in one's unique journey and thoughts.
Recently, there has been a wave of "Ghibli style" trend in the community, with many people uploading photos to generation tools, creating images filled with childlike fun and nostalgia. The internet is buzzing with excited discussions; some exclaim, "This is such a real replica!" while others sigh, "It brings back childhood memories!" and some even ask, "How do you generate this? Do I have to pay?" As I scrolled through those images with saturated tones and warm compositions, a wave of sentimentality suddenly surged within me, reminding me of those who are no longer in this world. This seemingly "reproduced" technology deepened my understanding of the finiteness of life. A few former colleagues flashed through my mind; despite being of similar ages, they left this world too early due to accidents or illnesses. I also thought of my mother, who left when I was still young. At that moment, I profoundly realized the brevity of life and the necessity to cherish it.
This also reminded me of a scene in the series "Black Mirror"—where human consciousness can be stored in a system, claiming to achieve immortality. If that day really comes, will those who once lived briefly and left with regrets still be valuable? If we could "backup" at any time, would we still take every relationship and every creation seriously? Perhaps it is precisely because these people are gone that I care more about whether those seemingly similar works can truly reproduce the emotions of my memories.
Some people say these images "look like Miyazaki's," but upon closer inspection, while AI may replicate the style of Studio Ghibli, it cannot possess the soul of the creation. These images remind me of the first time I watched "My Neighbor Totoro," a dreamy summer adventure for every child; they also provoke thoughts about the conflict between humans and nature in "Princess Mononoke"—there is no absolute justice and no singular evil. What these AI-generated images lack is the true stories and memories contained in Miyazaki's works, the reflections carried in warmth, and the questions posed about society, environment, and humanity. These become the core of his creativity, rejecting the simplification of the world and embracing different perspectives amid chaos.
I believe the soul of creation comes from the creator's unique life experiences, forming a distinct perspective. Today’s fast-paced algorithms and social media have conditioned us to draw quick conclusions and rush for answers and key points, often overlooking the understanding of the process and discourse. We are busy categorizing, simplifying, and labeling, but isn’t the true value of creation derived from that "incategorizable" soul? Therefore, I am even more convinced that the core of creation lies in what we wish to express, rather than in external similarities.
For me, part of the purpose of creation is not merely for traffic and conversion rates, but because "if I do not say this, I will regret it." Understanding early on the limitation of life, I strive to leave no regrets by immersing myself in independently developing products, following dreams, starting businesses, and managing personal media. I have also written many "informative" articles, such as how to find a job, write a resume, freelance, and conduct market research. I know these topics are liked by readers, but the creations that satisfy me most often come from observations and reflections in life.
Some of the articles I've mentioned above may not necessarily meet readers' expectations, but they are the contents I feel "must be written" because these experiences have truly changed my life. I hope they can be read by others, thus impacting their future and perhaps providing some sense of companionship. Whenever someone messages me saying, "Because of your article, I tried my first side business," or "I finally started doing what I love," I understand that this is precisely why I write. These words are not written for conversion, but as a testament to life—proclaiming to the world how I have lived.
We should not attempt to use AI to replicate the soul, but seek to help the soul be seen. In recent years, due to my background in creation and as a software engineer, I have begun exploring the application of automation and AI tools. This is not because I want to become an AI engineer or fear being left behind by the times, but because I realize there are too many deeply soulful people unable to express themselves. Some possess keen observational skills and rich experiences but feel helpless when it comes to writing, formatting, or editing. They do not lack a voice; they simply lack the ability and environment to "express." I hope to use automation to make the "creative process" replicable and scalable. I want to develop a writing assistance tool to help creators transform the soul in their minds into works that the world can see, as I was once that person who struggled to express myself.
Through reading, writing, and experimenting, my voice has gradually taken shape, and I know there are still many souls yet to be heard. I do not fear the advancement of AI; rather, I worry that we will no longer feel curious about the world or maintain our passion for creation. I fear that we will no longer be willing to express ourselves or build deeper connections with others; more so, I fear that in the pursuit of goals, we will forget the joy that can only be experienced through falling and making mistakes. Though AI can generate styles and write articles, it cannot reproduce the failures, tears, friendship, and courage of choosing to move forward in solitude that you have experienced.
Instead of worrying about being replaced by AI, it is better to deeply understand the fundamentals of creation, because creation is, after all, an extension of life. AI may mimic your style, but the traces of your existence can only be left by you.