While the internet buzzes with controversies ranging from political bills to natural disasters, another unexpected storm is sweeping across social media — and it involves none other than Studio Ghibli. The launch of ChatGPT’s new AI image generation feature has given birth to a viral phenomenon: “Ghibli-fied” portraits. From Instagram to X and Facebook, users are eagerly turning their own selfies into scenes straight out of Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle with just a few prompts. At first glance, the trend feels lighthearted and creative — a tribute of sorts to the breathtakingly beautiful aesthetic of legendary director Hayao Miyazaki’s iconic works. However, beyond the whimsical visuals lies a stormy undercurrent of ethical, legal, and artistic debate that is raising important questions about the role of AI in creative spaces.
 

For fans, the Ghibli-filter trend is a celebration, a tribute that brings fresh attention to the masterful worlds Miyazaki and his team have painstakingly built over the years. For artists and critics, however, the use of AI to mimic the unique, hand-drawn style of Studio Ghibli represents more than just homage — it’s an act of appropriation that could diminish the value of genuine human artistic effort. A resurfaced video of Miyazaki reacting to an AI-generated animation has added more fuel to the fire. In the clip, the animation legend calls the work “an insult to life itself,” expressing a deep disapproval for art created without soul or empathy. This video, now widely circulated online since the AI Ghibli trend took off, offers a haunting premonition of what he may have thought about today’s developments.
 

Seema Kohli, a well-known artist, doesn’t hold back when it comes to her views on the viral trend. To her, this isn’t artistic admiration — it’s theft disguised as flattery. She describes the mass generation of Ghibli-style art as a “profound mischaracterisation” of the studio’s work. Her concern lies not only in the visual imitation but in the disregard for the creative process that underpins Studio Ghibli’s legacy. “It’s a violation of creative ownership,” she states, pointing out that every frame in a Ghibli film represents years of human effort, collaboration, and emotional investment — something an algorithm cannot replicate. Kohli also raises a key legal issue — the question of rights. “Have the creators of these AI images secured the legal rights to replicate Ghibli’s unique aesthetic?” she asks, highlighting a broader copyright dilemma that remains largely unaddressed in the current AI boom.
 

Not all artists are entirely against AI involvement in art. Sangeeta Gupta, a contemporary painter, takes a more nuanced stance. She sees potential in AI as a tool for homage, provided it is used responsibly. “If AI helps people discover Ghibli’s magic, that’s beautiful,” she says. But she also warns that if used carelessly, AI becomes a machine for producing hollow replicas with no soul or original thought. Transparency is key, she argues — AI-created art must be clearly distinguished and never misrepresented as original. For artist and curator Anoop Kamath, AI poses even deeper concerns. He views AI-generated art as a problematic practice built on exploitation, since most AI models are trained on datasets that include copyrighted materials without permission. The idea that “imitation is the best form of flattery” doesn’t sit well with him. “Most AI art gives no credit to the original creators,” he says, questioning both the authenticity and value of such outputs in serious artistic circles.
 

Interestingly, not everyone sees this trend as a threat. Some consider it an opportunity for exposure. Deepshikha Agarwal, a computer engineer and lifelong Ghibli fan, sees the viral trend as a gateway. “Many of my friends thought anime was only for kids,” she shares. “Now, they’re watching My Neighbour Totoro and Spirited Away after trying the AI filter. Isn’t that a good thing?” She acknowledges that while AI can’t replicate Miyazaki’s soul, it can open doors for more people to experience it. Supriya, a 21-year-old fashion design student, draws an analogy with the fashion world. “Designers put their heart into their work, but knock-offs are everywhere. Still, the originals retain their value.” She believes that while AI might generate Ghibli-style images, true fans will continue to appreciate the depth and effort behind the originals. This debate mirrors an age-old artistic tension — one that predates AI. When photography emerged, many argued that it would destroy traditional painting. It didn’t. Instead, both mediums found their place. The same could be true for AI and hand-drawn animation — if boundaries, ethics, and credit are handled with care.
 

Yet, a deeper concern lingers: the potential of AI to replace, rather than assist, human creativity. As AI systems continue to evolve at breakneck speed, what is today seen as a quirky filter may soon evolve into a production powerhouse capable of mimicking entire art styles, voices, and emotions with chilling precision. The current moment is a crossroads. On one side lies the promise of democratized creativity, artistic exploration, and global accessibility. On the other lies the risk of losing artistic soul, originality, and the human touch that defines masterpieces like those of Studio Ghibli. Whether viewed as homage or harm, the Ghibli AI trend has stirred more than just social feeds — it has reopened long-standing questions about the essence of art, the role of technology, and the future of creative expression.