A new frontier in the world of AI and entertainment has opened up, one that is raising crucial questions about artistic legacy, consent, and control. The AI audio startup ElevenLabs has launched an "Iconic Voices" marketplace, where companies can license realistic synthetic speech of deceased famous people for ads, content, and other uses. This move includes the likes of Michael Caine, Matthew McConaughey, Judy Garland, James Dean, Maya Angelou, and even the AI pioneer Alan Turing.
At first glance, it may seem like a harmless innovation that's merely making use of the creative output of talented individuals who have passed on. However, there's a more profound issue lurking beneath the surface: the right to an artist's voice and legacy after they're gone. It's a topic that echoes Franz Kafka's wish for his unpublished works to be destroyed upon his death.
In the 1920s, Kafka had explicitly requested that his friend and literary executor Max Brod burn all of his unpublished writing and papers upon his passing. Yet, Brod largely ignored this request and instead chose to publish Kafka's work, thereby cementing his legacy as one of literature's greatest figures. This decision has sparked debate about the rights artists have over their creations once they're gone.
In today's AI-driven world, things are getting more complicated. Synthetic voices can be generated in a way that sounds almost indistinguishable from the original voice. The incentives for using these AI voices are clear: cheaper production costs and greater scalability than traditional methods. But at what cost?
Estate lawyers are now being advised to draft specific clauses outlining an artist's wishes regarding posthumous AI use. This includes stipulations like whether archival restorations, documentaries, or ads should be allowed, and who holds the "kill switch" for shutting down these voice assets.
While it may seem like a convenient solution to simply have an AI speak in the voice of a famous person without needing explicit consent, there's no denying that this raises complex questions about agency, power dynamics, and control. As the technology advances, it's essential that we grapple with the implications of reviving the voices of the deceased for commercial purposes.
The example of Terry Pratchett serves as a stark reminder of the risks involved in leaving an artist's wishes to chance. In 2017, Pratchett's unfinished books were ceremoniously flattened by a steamroller due to his explicit instructions not to publish them posthumously. This raises the question: would we want our AI voices treated with similar reverence?
In conclusion, as ElevenLabs' "Iconic Voices" marketplace continues to grow, it's essential that artists and their estates take a proactive stance in shaping their legacy in this digital age. By doing so, we can ensure that the voices of the deceased are used responsibly and with respect for those who came before us.
At first glance, it may seem like a harmless innovation that's merely making use of the creative output of talented individuals who have passed on. However, there's a more profound issue lurking beneath the surface: the right to an artist's voice and legacy after they're gone. It's a topic that echoes Franz Kafka's wish for his unpublished works to be destroyed upon his death.
In the 1920s, Kafka had explicitly requested that his friend and literary executor Max Brod burn all of his unpublished writing and papers upon his passing. Yet, Brod largely ignored this request and instead chose to publish Kafka's work, thereby cementing his legacy as one of literature's greatest figures. This decision has sparked debate about the rights artists have over their creations once they're gone.
In today's AI-driven world, things are getting more complicated. Synthetic voices can be generated in a way that sounds almost indistinguishable from the original voice. The incentives for using these AI voices are clear: cheaper production costs and greater scalability than traditional methods. But at what cost?
Estate lawyers are now being advised to draft specific clauses outlining an artist's wishes regarding posthumous AI use. This includes stipulations like whether archival restorations, documentaries, or ads should be allowed, and who holds the "kill switch" for shutting down these voice assets.
While it may seem like a convenient solution to simply have an AI speak in the voice of a famous person without needing explicit consent, there's no denying that this raises complex questions about agency, power dynamics, and control. As the technology advances, it's essential that we grapple with the implications of reviving the voices of the deceased for commercial purposes.
The example of Terry Pratchett serves as a stark reminder of the risks involved in leaving an artist's wishes to chance. In 2017, Pratchett's unfinished books were ceremoniously flattened by a steamroller due to his explicit instructions not to publish them posthumously. This raises the question: would we want our AI voices treated with similar reverence?
In conclusion, as ElevenLabs' "Iconic Voices" marketplace continues to grow, it's essential that artists and their estates take a proactive stance in shaping their legacy in this digital age. By doing so, we can ensure that the voices of the deceased are used responsibly and with respect for those who came before us.