These days, the burgeoning ecosystem of AI products are being sold under the pretense of the great equalizer. The promise is simple - lower the barrier of entry for creation and enable voices we have never heard before. Want to create art, but lack the training or materials? Generate it instantaneously - to your exact tastes. Have a fleeting idea for a new software product, but don’t know how to code? You now have a “team of Ph.D. level experts in your pocket” capable of writing your code, designing your interfaces, and even strategizing your market entry, all at your command. [1] Across nearly every domain of human creation, barriers to entry are collapsing. The dangerous allure of this argument suggests that merely by democratizing access to a previously gated means of creation, we inherently elevate human nature.

I contend that accessibility and democratization are far from synonymous. This narrative conceals structural asymmetries while remaining deceptively seductive.

Thought experiment

Take this perspective of launching your very own, independent community coffee shop. Not a global franchise posing as a local business, but some place entirely your own, shaped by your values, your vision, and fundamentally your commitment to the community you serve. Perhaps it’s a hot take, but I believe few open a coffee shop primarily for profit. If financial gain was the main motivator, countless other ventures offer better returns. All this to say, there must be a powerful non-economic motivator at play, be it serving their community, self-expression, or building something that reflects who they are, not what the market demands. This ambition, in my view, is incredibly respectable.

Now imagine if you could design the coffee shop of your dreams. Not by actually building it, but simply by describing… you. You articulate our aesthetic, your values, even throw in excerpts of your life experiences to perfectly tune the desired atmosphere. The one you’ve always wanted. What’s even better? Everyone has access to this mythical capability. The single biggest barrier - capital - simply evaporates. One dream shop appears in the shuttered industrial building, another in a neglected corner lot, and still another in a historic storefront that’s been empty for a decade. Your neighborhood transforms overnight, each genuinely different, each reflecting an authentic vision.

Yet, out of the fifteen overnight miracles, ten of them are owned by Starbucks.

I think people forget that if small creators gain access to these tools, so do the big guys. Companies frequently market a product to appear locally appealing (a practice known as ‘smallwashing’), so you and I feel the warm and fuzzies from shopping local. [2] As a consumer, distinguishing genuine local business from corporate-owned ones has become increasingly difficult. In the broader context of convenience and economic reality, most people simply do not prioritize this distinction. Economies of scale actively disadvantage the consumer, and large entities posses numerous strategies to undercut legitimate smaller business: win on prices, or win simply through sheer volume or market saturation. [3] We also observe an aesthetic fatigue culturally - a weariness stemming from the endless stream of algorithmically optimized, superficially unique creations that ultimately blend into a monotonous sameness. [4]

So, where does your coffee shop sit now?

Takeaway

This phenomenon isn’t new. Structural advantages invariably flows to incumbents. Consider checkoff programs - a Great Depression-era mechanism established by Florida state legislation where taxes from citrus growers across Florida fund national advertising campaigns to boost American orange juice consumption. [5] Over time, this system, designed to benefit the entire industry, inadvertently bolstered large-scale producers who could leverage the increased demand more effectively than smaller, local farms. It’s a historical precedent for how broad-based initiatives can still funnel disproportionate benefits to those already established.

This isn’t to say small creators do not benefit from these mechanisms. Indeed, some find transient success by constantly innovating or carving out hyper-niche markets. Yet, their gains are often temporary, and their authentic innovations frequently become templates for larger entities to scale and commodify.

Accessibility is merely a gateway; it offers no automatic path to democratic outcomes or true equity. We have entered an age where authenticity itself has become a commodity. The past trend of companies marketing personalized products was only a precursor to the immense personalization now achievable through modern AI technology. The key difference lies in the near-zero marginal cost of doing so. The very essence that once distinguished small creators - their genuine local connection and singular vision - is now easily faked, scaled, and mass-produced.

Democratized tools do not democratize outcomes. Instead, they empower those with capital to scale the production of uniqueness itself, collapsing authenticity into mass-produced simulacra. The true loss isn’t just the small creator’s livelihood, but a subtle erosion of the very diversity of human expression we were promised. Are we then doomed to a curated monoculture, masquerading as endless choice?

  1. Angela Yang and Jasmine Cui, “OpenAI Releases ChatGPT-5,” NBC News, Aug. 7, 2025,. https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/openai-releases-chatgpt-5-rcna223265 ↩︎

  2. Emily Sundberg, “Why Every Shoppy Shop Looks Exactly the Same,” Grub Street, Jan. 25, 2023. https://www.grubstreet.com/2023/01/why-every-shoppy-shop-looks-exactly-the-same.html ↩︎

  3. Kathryn Judge, Direct: The Rise of the Middleman Economy and the Power of Going to the Source (Harper Business, 2022). ↩︎

  4. Drucilla Burrell, “Exhaustion Aesthetics: The Visual Language of Burnout.” https://www.drucillaburrell.com/thinking/exhaustion-aesthetics-visual-language-burnout ↩︎

  5. Austin Frerick, Barons: Money, Power, and the Corruption of America’s Food Industry (Island Press, 2024). ↩︎