Starter pack, but make it human”: artists push back against viral AI trend with hand-drawn counterparts
Pranjal Chandra | Apr 14, 2025, 14:08 IST
( Image credit : TIL Creatives )
Artists are pushing back against the AI-generated "action figure starter packs" trend that flooded social media. Illustrators are reclaiming the format with hand-drawn alternatives, protesting the overshadowing of human creativity by artificial intelligence. They highlight concerns about copyright infringement, the devaluation of artistic skill, and the economic challenges posed by AI-generated content, celebrating the value of human-made art.
As AI-generated “action figure starter packs” flooded social media feeds over the past week, artists around the world began striking back not with protests, but with pencils, paintbrushes, and iPads.
What began as a viral trend where users fed images and personal data into AI tools like ChatGPT to create stylized, toy-like portraits of themselves quickly drew a wave of criticism from artists who saw the meme as yet another example of artificial intelligence overshadowing human creativity.
But rather than just voicing frustration, illustrators like Holly Rolfe decided to reclaim the format. Rolfe, an England-based illustrator and ceramicist, was among the first to share a hand-drawn alternative. “The worst was seeing small creative businesses joining the trend,” she said. “Every one of them could’ve paid an artist. But they didn’t.”
Rolfe's post marked the beginning of a quiet revolt. Across Instagram, TikTok, and X, artists began uploading their own interpretations of the “starter pack” format, labeling them with tags like #StarterPackNoAI and #MadeByHumans. The result was a flood of vibrant, personality-filled artworks celebrating individuality and implicitly critiquing the growing ubiquity of machine-made aesthetics.
For artists like Rachel Dormal, a graphic designer based in Michigan, the trend represents more than just internet fatigue it’s about livelihood. “People don’t understand the amount of training data being used without consent,” she said. “There are artists who spend decades building their style, only for it to be scraped and mimicked by an algorithm. And suddenly it’s called an ‘AI style’?”
Dormal’s own version of the action figure meme included the label “Real Human Artist” a pointed reminder of what’s at stake.
Generative AI tools have made it easier than ever to create visual content, and their widespread use has already triggered lawsuits from news outlets, authors, and artists who allege copyright infringement. Though companies like OpenAI say their tools are designed to “support human creativity, not replace it,” the line between inspiration and imitation continues to blur.
Seattle-based writer and illustrator Haley Weaver knows this struggle all too well. Over the years, she has seen her art style reposted without permission and recently discovered that some AI models can generate content “in the style of @haleydrewthis” her online persona.
“It’s flattering at first,” she said, “until you realize people are typing a few prompts and getting something eerily close to what took you years to develop.”
Weaver said she found the AI-generated starter packs “cute,” but not meaningful until she saw artists like Rolfe bring warmth back into the trend with their personal, hand-drawn takes. Her own version proudly declares: “100% AI Free!”
“There’s something really satisfying about making it yourself,” she added. “The imperfections, the choices, the humor — they make it yours. AI art tends to flatten all of that.”
For Kentucky-based digital artist April Schweiss, the issue is also economic. Competing against creators using AI to mass-produce designs for T-shirts or merch stores, Schweiss finds herself increasingly pushed out of online marketplaces. “Someone using AI can upload 150 designs a month,” she said. “I might finish five detailed illustrations. Who wins in that scenario?”
Still, despite the challenges, artists like Schweiss, Dormal, Weaver, and Rolfe are turning their resistance into a celebration of humanity in art.
In a world increasingly enamored by the instant gratification of AI, their drawings serve as quiet but powerful reminders: real creativity takes time and it's still worth paying for.
What began as a viral trend where users fed images and personal data into AI tools like ChatGPT to create stylized, toy-like portraits of themselves quickly drew a wave of criticism from artists who saw the meme as yet another example of artificial intelligence overshadowing human creativity.
But rather than just voicing frustration, illustrators like Holly Rolfe decided to reclaim the format. Rolfe, an England-based illustrator and ceramicist, was among the first to share a hand-drawn alternative. “The worst was seeing small creative businesses joining the trend,” she said. “Every one of them could’ve paid an artist. But they didn’t.”
Rolfe's post marked the beginning of a quiet revolt. Across Instagram, TikTok, and X, artists began uploading their own interpretations of the “starter pack” format, labeling them with tags like #StarterPackNoAI and #MadeByHumans. The result was a flood of vibrant, personality-filled artworks celebrating individuality and implicitly critiquing the growing ubiquity of machine-made aesthetics.
For artists like Rachel Dormal, a graphic designer based in Michigan, the trend represents more than just internet fatigue it’s about livelihood. “People don’t understand the amount of training data being used without consent,” she said. “There are artists who spend decades building their style, only for it to be scraped and mimicked by an algorithm. And suddenly it’s called an ‘AI style’?”
Dormal’s own version of the action figure meme included the label “Real Human Artist” a pointed reminder of what’s at stake.
Generative AI tools have made it easier than ever to create visual content, and their widespread use has already triggered lawsuits from news outlets, authors, and artists who allege copyright infringement. Though companies like OpenAI say their tools are designed to “support human creativity, not replace it,” the line between inspiration and imitation continues to blur.
Seattle-based writer and illustrator Haley Weaver knows this struggle all too well. Over the years, she has seen her art style reposted without permission and recently discovered that some AI models can generate content “in the style of @haleydrewthis” her online persona.
“It’s flattering at first,” she said, “until you realize people are typing a few prompts and getting something eerily close to what took you years to develop.”
Weaver said she found the AI-generated starter packs “cute,” but not meaningful until she saw artists like Rolfe bring warmth back into the trend with their personal, hand-drawn takes. Her own version proudly declares: “100% AI Free!”
“There’s something really satisfying about making it yourself,” she added. “The imperfections, the choices, the humor — they make it yours. AI art tends to flatten all of that.”
For Kentucky-based digital artist April Schweiss, the issue is also economic. Competing against creators using AI to mass-produce designs for T-shirts or merch stores, Schweiss finds herself increasingly pushed out of online marketplaces. “Someone using AI can upload 150 designs a month,” she said. “I might finish five detailed illustrations. Who wins in that scenario?”
Still, despite the challenges, artists like Schweiss, Dormal, Weaver, and Rolfe are turning their resistance into a celebration of humanity in art.
In a world increasingly enamored by the instant gratification of AI, their drawings serve as quiet but powerful reminders: real creativity takes time and it's still worth paying for.