The first thing I notice about content generated by artificial intelligence is that it’s too perfect: too glossy, too smooth, too uncanny. Once I see it, I start to notice it everywhere, in advertisements, on social media and sold on posters. AI-generated art and content has become ubiquitous, much to the dismay of many who value human creativity. Yet zines offer a refreshing antidote.
Zines are a type of underground media that primarily take the format of pamphlets on a specific subject, from science fiction fandoms (the subjects of the first zines) to political advocacy. Zines are usually self-published and small-circulation, avoiding the commercialization of more prominent media.
It can be easy to mistakenly relegate zines as a fixture of the past, especially as we move into this new AI frontier. However, the age of AI precisely illuminates the reasons why zines are so important. Not only are zines expressly counter to the conformity and sterility of AI media, but they address many of the pitfalls of AI, highlighting marginalized perspectives and preserving culture and real art in an environment where creativity seems to be devalued.
The culture surrounding AI-generated media and zines are vastly different: where proponents of AI art and media often emphasize efficiency and ease of creation, zine culture embraces the messiness and humanity of DIY, bringing media to life with your own passion and expertise. Some like to say that AI makes art and media accessible — but media forms like zines have been making art accessible far better and for far longer.
As a media form, zines have a long presence in numerous countercultural movements, like the riot grrl subculture in the 1990s and punk movements in the 1970s and 1980s. This stands in direct contrast to the current cultural emphasis placed on AI. In an environment where many are relying on AI for everyday functions, choosing to meaningfully engage with a countercultural media form provides a different (and vital) perspective.
Additionally, given that zines have traditionally highlighted marginalized voices, they seldom contain the biases present in generative AI. For example, in a 2023 Bloomberg article, journalists using AI image generator Stable Diffusion found that its images featured exacerbated racial and gender disparities.
Zines occupy an important place in the creative world because of their deliberate imperfection. That’s the beauty of DIY media: it can be as polished as its creator desires, and there are few to no barriers to its creation. Especially with original copies of paper zines, part of the experience is noticing all the “human” touches. Whether it’s finding a pen smudge on a page or feeling the overlapping textures of the different materials used, physical zines foster a sense of immediate connection between the reader and the creator.
Meanwhile, AI media lacks any semblance of human creation: there is no connection between the viewer and the creator, because the “creator” is inherently incapable of genuine, unprompted thought. Yet isn’t that exactly what makes art so beautiful? We value artistic expression because it means something real to us. The act of human creation is just as important as the end result, and when the human creation aspect is missing, we lose something intrinsic.
AI tools have their place, but particularly in a world that seems eager to leave real creativity in the dust in search of the “next best thing,” it is more important than ever to continue to interact with human-centered design. Zines are a hands-on opportunity for communities to experience that for themselves. Here at Smith College, there are plenty of opportunities to engage with zines, whether it’s checking out the Zine Library at Hillyer or making your own zine at the Design Thinking Initiative (DTI).
The next time you see an event promoting zines, I urge you to show up and break out your crafting supplies. Not only is it an act of resistance in an environment that deliberately devalues human creation, but it’s a chance to build community.
