The Countermovement
On AI, music, and the return of the human
It is now several times already that I have alluded to the brewing possibility of a countermovement. An act of protest against the ongoing cultural decline perpetuated by the “technocracy”.
This has often been in the context of discussing “endangered” musical traditions, where perhaps a little wishful thinking feels necessary to avoid sinking into nihilistic quicksand, with my “endangered music” series alongside me.
Whether we call it cultural imperialism or simply attribute it to profit-maximising algorithms, the reality is that the world’s mainstream culture and social currency are increasingly controlled by a small group of ultra-powerful tech companies and private equity firms. The narrow criteria by which music is allowed to exist within this ecosystem excludes, and ultimately suffocates, some of the most raw and human forms of expression.
To echo a point from an earlier piece: where music used to be inherently participatory, collective, and essential to daily life, in recent years it has become a commodified accessory of our digital environments. It seems that the majority of musical experience and exposure nowadays takes place on apps, platforms and devices etc. This places ultimate control into the hands of the technocracy, and their reliable-profit generating algorithms.
Ted Gioia makes this case phenomenally, in pieces like “Why Do I Keep Saying the Culture is Stagnating?”, “Where Do Music Genres Come From?”, “Fifty People Control the Culture” etc.
As someone who ran two tech companies and spent 25 years in Silicon Valley, Gioia knows what’s up. And he often shares shocking stats on Substack notes, that demonstrate the density of power and influence big tech holds over culture.
“Corporations didn’t intend to make the culture stagnant and boring,” I recently explained. “All they really want is to impose standardization and predictability—because it’s more profitable.” - Ted Gioia
This standardisation and resulting homogenisation can be deadly. It sits at the heart of why so many diverse forms of musical expression have withered or disappeared.
But let us not return to nihilistic quicksand. There may be reason for cautious hope.
Gioia has been increasingly indulging in the idea of a “new romanticism”. He draws parallels between current cultural dynamics and those of the turn of the 19th century, where overbearing rationalism and industry driven productivity boiled over, resulting in a movement of artists and thinkers lifting the lid .
Some say the tech companies are too powerful for this to happen again, and that we’re too dependant on them. But it does certainly seem that people are starting to become more vigilant towards parts of the so called “innovation”. Perhaps this is because until recently, it has at least felt like technological development was serving and advancing humanity. Now, in certain cases, it’s starting to feel like the opposite.
For example, words like “doomscrolling”, or “bedrotting” have come into regular use, implying a heightened awareness of the dopamine-maniuplative algorithm based online world. Phone “prisons” and “dumb phone” products have come onto the market, that are intended to set obstacles to help people resist the temptation of scrolling social media. And a notable recent development is Australia’s social media ban for under 16s.
So evidently, there is a countermovement of sorts against the tech world already; and it’s not just reduced to the fringes of society, but in cases includes governments and influential figures too.
Yet this growing awareness of the psychological and developmental harms of social media does not automatically extend to its cultural consequences.
That may be beginning to change. I increasingly hear people lament recent developments in mainstream cinema, for example. The dominance of remakes, sequels, and franchises. The lack of risk, the lack of novelty. The tendency to frame shots so that they can be easily cropped for YouTube Shorts or Instagram Reels. Screenwriting that states everything explicitly, so viewers can follow the plot while half-watching on a second screen. Just yesterday, I saw a film expert on BBC News discussing how shortened attention spans are shaping the way films are made.
Beyond film, there is widespread concern about declining reading habits among younger generations. That hardly bodes well for the future of literature.
What I encounter less often is an equivalent awareness of these dynamics in music. This absence has become a central motivation behind my Substack and the “endangered music” series.
Ironically, the rise of AI-generated music may end up doing some of this work itself.
Forbes recently put out an article detailing nine predictions for the music industry in 2026: how AI reshapes licencing and power.
For example:
Extreme efficiency leads to saturation. Saturation leads to devaluation. As AI output becomes abundant and interchangeable, its value drops in most contexts. That dynamic opens space for a narrower market where human-made work carries value because it is authored, intentional, and scarce.
AI will dominate uses where content simply needs to function. Human creators who survive will operate in contexts where identity, authorship, and intent still matter. This does not protect everyone. Many artists will be pushed out. Some will capture higher value per work precisely because they are no longer competing on volume.
Does this lay fertile ground for a counter-movement akin to the “new romanticism” Gioia refers to? It certainly doesn’t strike me as impossible.
AI is already stirring up great discontent among artists and art lovers, so one can only imagine that as AI output becomes more abundant, this feeling will multiply.
So, strangely enough, the statement that was met with boos at last year’s South by Southwest tech conference, “I actually think that AI fundamentally makes us more human”, may contain a grain of truth. Not literally, but indirectly. The continued expansion of this technology may push the cold, rational, productivity-driven systems that define current mainstream arts and culture to a breaking point. If that happens, we may be forced to lift the lid. And as in the Romantic era, the raw, the emotional, the strange, and the deeply human could reassert themselves at the centre of artistic life.
To bring this closer to Ancestral Tones territory: if or when this shift occurs, I believe that folklore and artistic traditions may serve as a kind of safety net. Beyond nostalgia, as a living model of what it means to be human.
History supports this idea. In the early Romantic period, folklore played a central role. Johann Gottfried von Herder, a key figure of the late Enlightenment, argued that true culture was to be found among ordinary people, das Volk. He could even be regarded as a kind of proto-ethnomusicologist, in the sense that he travelled and collected folk songs to support his ideas. Herder’s ideas greatly influenced the early Romanticists, shaping their turn toward emotion, folklore, and cultural rootedness, and he can justifiably be seen as a pioneer of Romanticism himself, laying its foundations before the movement had a name.
His ideas probably warrant a dedicated piece, and I will likely return to him.
But to wrap things up, for now, it seems wise to remain cautiously optimistic. No one truly knows what the AI age will bring. But that does not make it pointless to imagine futures in which art and culture reorient themselves toward depth, connection, and meaning, rather than fleeting dopamine accompanied by the sound of AI-generated playlists.
Bibliography:
Forbes Article -https://www.forbes.com/sites/virginieberger/2025/12/29/nine-predictions-for-the-music-industry-in-2026-how-ai-reshapes-licensing-and-power/
