Basically, it was their best compromise: a supply-chain shortcut passed off as a thematic breakthrough

Picture this: We run a food blog. It’s called Jiak. For the May issue, we decide on a theme: ‘The Future of Food’. But on the day we are ready to shoot the 美食 (meishi, delicacies), we realise it is Monday—wet markets are closed. We can’t buy anything to cook the dishes we wish to feature. So we decide creatively: why don’t we use plastic food? The feature comes under the theme, ‘The Exploration of Synthetic Nutrition’. There will be beautiful ketupat and lontong, mouth-watering chicken bryani, and the most scrumptious-looking bak kut teh you have ever seen. After the shoot, we feed ravenous Manus AI the images and ask it to reproduce the most realistic, luscious, appetite-awakening photos (for the prompt, we used those words!). We run the story and tell you, our dear reader, that because the markets were closed and we were faced with a tight deadline, we had to get creative. Will you buy it? Will you believe our report about the future of what we put in our mouths to fill our stomachs? Will you stay calm?

Esquire SG shared with CNA, in the wake of the reactions to their AI-generated interview, that “the use of AI was a deliberate creative decision intended to reflect this theme; exploring the ‘echo’ of a persona in the digital age in the absence of the physical subject.” This is where we were stumped, essentially staring at the wall hoping it would blink first. There is a fundamental difference between a digital native—a human being who exists and works within our modern era—and a digital entity. The editorial defence relies on the idea that because their interviewee, Japanese actor Mackenyu, wasn’t physically there to answer the questions, the AI could fill the void. Characters like Hatsune Miku or other AI influencers are creations of the digital age. They have no physical subject to be absent; the code is the entity. Mackenyu is a birthed-by-his-mother actor. By treating him as a data set to be prompted, the magazine bypassed his consent to “speak” in favor of a simulated version of him that is easier to humanly edit and more convenient to publish. Has Esquire SG, in fact, waded into fan fiction?

By treating Mackenyu as a data set to be prompted, the magazine bypassed his consent to “speak” in favor of a simulated version of him that is easier to humanly edit and more convenient to publish

Anyone in fashion knows the difference between a person wearing a garment and a mannequin wearing a costume. One has agency, the other is merely a prop for the editor’s vision. You don’t need to guess who does not inhabit the garment. But despite the unmistakable distinction, the magazine persisted in saying they already absolved themselves by stating from the start it was an AI product. “We were transparent about this experimental approach,” Esquire SG maintained, “as our goal was to explore the intersectionality of celebrity and tech within the ‘Echoes’ context.” As one editor told us, “Disclosure may prevent outright deception, but it doesn’t restore the trust lost when journalism becomes this thing.” Indeed, being transparent about its use does not fill the fundamental vacuity of the bot-generated. It’s like labeling a wax figure “not real”—the honesty doesn’t make it a person. Saying we told you fundamentally shifts accountability onto the reader. Clever. Or did Copilot tell them to say that?

The precise moment our collective patience decided to take an early retirement came when Esquire SG repeatedly referred to their ‘Echoes’ theme. Is a human echo the same as an AI echo? A human echo is a reflection. It requires an original sound that bounces off a medium. Even if distorted, it originates from the subject’s actual vibration. An AI echo? It’s a synthesis, not, as the magazine asserted, a resonance. There is also the fallacy of the thematic justification. A theme is a lens through which one views reality; it is not a license to manufacture it. It seems to us that they’ve confused a lens with a kaleidoscope—though we suppose if they spin the facts fast enough, even a mess looks like a pattern. No matter how AI-enabled, the core value of journalism is the unscripted moment. A real interview allows for the subject to contradict the interviewer, to be difficult, or to reveal something new. AI can only ever be a mirror of existing data. It can never, ever be that person.

Note: In the wake of public disgust over Esquire SG’s use of the death of Mackenyu’s father to simulate the actor’s grief, the magazine has printed an addendum at the end of the article. It reads: “The original piece included a question about Mackenyu’s father, which has been removed due to its sensitivity.” You can’t ignore the irony here: the magazine claimed their “creative decision” was a sophisticated exploration of a persona’s “echo”, yet the moment that echo touched upon actual human loss and pain, they hit the delete key. It proves that even they don’t believe in the integrity of their own simulation. If you want the prestige of the technology, make sure you can handle the moral weight of the output. Frankly, Esquire SG should remove the entire article.

Illustration: Just So