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Writer's pictureChristopher McHale

Are Craftpeople the Future of Creativity?

Our new tools mean smaller teams can get entire projects in their hands.

A craft worker sits at their bench.

While editing the last episode of Creativity Jijiji, I started to think about something I read by Heather Cox Richardson. In a post, she wrote that Marx had coined the concept of alienation. Some of my friends had sons who voted for Trump and were trying to wrap their heads around it. There’s no doubt Trump pulled big from the under-25 male voters. But why?


I knew why. Alienation, a world without a future, all the pressures of navigating the present world as a young entrant in the competition. It's tough. Way tough. Trump, a politician who promises everything to everybody, appeared to be a man with solutions. He represented old-school masculinity in a new-school era of strong women. The decision was Trump gets our pain. That and the trible nature of young men. They go with the crowd. They need to belong. Billy is wearing a red hat, and I’m wearing a red hat, too. We fly the team colors. We go to the pep rallies. America is a nation trained to root root root for your team. There’s no logic, no reason; people want to be surrounded by like-minded people. It's a reflex as old as the hills.


Which led me to Karl Marx.


In 1844, Marx wrote about the future alienation of workers in an industrial society. His insights into the soul-crushing work of sweating in a factory were accurate predictions of the predatory economy America built and perfected. But his observation about the satisfaction of work caught my eye. To gain total satisfaction with their efforts, workers must be involved in the whole process, from start to finish. Working a pipeline led to deep dissatisfaction and became a seed of destructive alienation.


I’d just come off of a discussion with my guest on Creativity Jijiji, Ric Neil, and he had talked about the new AI tools that allowed his team to make games with a small, agile team. His vision was that shortly, three people would replace 500 in the game dev process. I’ve dived into the tools, so I believe him. There are many concerns about this AI incursion into our lives, but I was thinking about the nature of artistry.


Two aspects of a creative worker's life usually get plowed into the ground—time and money. In a corporate structure, time is money; they can't afford to waste either. Massive creative projects need that type of management, but there has always been a foundation in the world of craftsmanship where innovation lives. Innovation on the corporate level is more a marketing myth than reality. True innovation comes on a much smaller scale.


An artist works to master their skill. An artist works to create work with a timeless quality. Neither time nor budget plays a part in that process. It simply can’t. Understanding and accepting those pillars of the creative process leads to understanding the innovative mindset and the intersection of art and commerce. Commercial art is a compromise, an acceptable one to pay the rent, but commercial art is not truly an artistic process. And as such, commercial art is not held to the same standard or expectation. Both the executive and the creative worker need to understand this.


I started to think that the new AI tools might lead to a fully engaged creative experience in the commercial realm. By carving out time and eliminating huge teams, it’s now conceivable for a single creative worker to accomplish the work of a complex pipeline—from executive work, like business plans and marketing, to fine detail in craftsmanship.


AI is not an artistic shortcut. Ric Neil calls that a ‘false narrative.’ An artist needs years of rigorous artistic training and discipline to accomplish solid professional results. The accomplished musician will make a living. The songwriter who uses AI to write a song will have a tough time rising above hobby status. Hobbies are great. Some great ‘hobbyists’ have accomplished great things, but I’m not concerned with Hobbie here.


Breakthrough art requires commitment. With a full-on, engaged passion, 24/7 breakthroughs are almost impossible.


These days, I mostly work alone. My company, Studio Jijiji, is hand-built piece by piece. I write and record my podcasts and music projects and market them myself. I only add to the team for the collaborative spirit and to help out, but ultimately, it's a small team world because my number one goal is innovation. We are craftspeople working on projects until they are ready, and we use modern tools and pipelines to accomplish our goals. Jijiji is more like a small workroom-making tables than a monster company with over-active ambitions. I've done that. I have had good results, but every time I get involved in a company that grows past a certain point, it loses its vibe, and I lose interest.


I’ve found my way back to where I began. My first business was a guitar store with a showroom in the front and a guitar workroom in the back—three of us spending our days working guitars. I get offers daily to help Jijiji grow, but I’m interested in organic growth and a garden that’s easier to weed. That's the time art takes, and I’m taking all the time I need.



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