Ethical AI in Creative Work: A Leadership Perspective on Storytelling
It All Begins Here
Lately, it’s getting harder and harder to decipher what is real from what is AI-generated, especially in multimedia.
If you’re like me and you’re doomscrolling in bed at night, you’ve probably paused mid-scroll and asked yourself, “wait, is this AI?”
More recently, I’ve come face-to-face with really good AI-generated video and - really, really, really bad.
That contrast has opened the door for meaningful, unscripted conversations with my team.
We keep coming back to a few core questions. Where is the line? What responsibility do we carry as creators? How do ethics show up in our work? And how do we engage with a transformative technology without compromising the principles that define strong storytelling?
Those conversations have evolved into something more structured. We are actively shaping a shared point of view, a working code of ethics around how we use these tools.
At its best, AI should enhance the creative process. It should improve efficiency and unlock capacity. It should not replace creative thinking.
There is a real balance to strike between generative AI and human creativity, and that balance requires intention. Not just in how these tools are used, but why they are used.
For example, if a brand is built on community and grassroots impact, using AI to fabricate a crowd undermines the very story it is trying to tell. Real stories require real people. Authenticity is not something you can simulate without consequence.
Audiences are more discerning than we often give them credit for. The demand for what is genuine and credible is only growing. This is not a moment to rely on shortcuts. It is a moment to meet that expectation with clarity and integrity.
I was struck by a 2024 Forbes interview by Kimberly A. Whitler, with then-CEO of Vimeo Lynn Girotto, where she emphasized “brands and businesses should prioritize ethical AI from the top down.”
That framing resonates.
Leadership has a responsibility to set clear expectations around how and why AI is used. That includes protecting the human element in the work, establishing thoughtful guardrails, and ensuring strong data practices and safety standards.
To me, AI is a challenge in leadership.
How we choose to navigate it will shape not only the work we produce, but the trust we build with the audiences we serve.
Great Work Is a Team Sport
Great work is a team sport. Across my career, I’ve learned that tools don’t define quality—people do. As AI becomes part of our production workflow, the goal isn’t replacement, but amplification of creative craft and team capability.
Over the course of my career, I have been so lucky to work alongside some brilliant talent within the creative production world.
Directors. Photographers. Producers. Editors. People who live and breathe an industry that is constantly evolving, always moving, and rarely predictable.
As my contributions have changed over the years, I’ve learned one important thing: You’re only as strong as the team around you.
When I was producing, I found the success of any piece depended less on individual effort and more on the collective standard of excellence around it.
A great DP who is passionate about lighting and takes the extra time to get it “just right.”
A great audio engineer who can ensure your interview sound is crispy with zero p’s popping.
A great production assistant who really cares about the comfortability of your talent and your crew and can curate an Uber Eats order like no other.
A great editor who can take an idea and run with it - turning words on a page into a vivid and immersive audio / visual experience.
Great work has never been a solo act.
In my current role, I find myself especially energized by the editors I work with.
They are deeply creative, technically skilled, and constantly pushing the boundaries of what we can do.
They genuinely inspire me every single day.
They are also the ones who have introduced me to new tools and workflows that have meaningfully changed how we operate.
One of the most consistent conversations we’ve had over the past year or more has been around AI.
We view it as a way to extend creativity, not replace it.
Together, we’ve explored how emerging tools can help us work smarter and more efficiently.
We’re accelerating transcription and captioning, improving audio cleanup, enhancing color and image quality, and streamlining the organization of complex editing projects.
We’ve tested tools across Adobe Creative Suite and DaVinci Resolve, and experimented with automation in ways that reduce friction and free up more time for actual storytelling.
What’s been most interesting is not the technology itself, but the mindset shift.
The question we keep returning to is simple: How do we use these tools to make ourselves better?
Better as in - more focused, more creative, more intentional.
Over time, this has become a core part of how our team operates.
AI is not something we “added on.” It’s become part of our creative process. It’s woven into how we think about post-production, organization, and execution.
But it has never replaced the thing that matters most: the people.
The craft. The taste. The care. The instinct.
If anything, it has made those things more visible.
What I’ve learned most through this evolution is simple: Technology can accelerate work but it’s the people who define its quality.
I feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by people who not only adapt to change, but actively shape it.
That, to me, is the real foundation of great work.
Not the tools.
Not the workflow.
But the people who choose to keep getting better.
The Art of Showing Up
It All Begins Here
I was on maternity leave with my first-born and got the call that my manager was leaving. He wanted me to take over his position as team lead.
I was honored and honestly, overwhelmed. I was also in the middle of one of the most vulnerable transitions of my life: becoming a first-time mom, adjusting to a completely new identity, and trying to find my footing in a new rhythm of life.
Still, I said yes.
My husband and I immediately began exploring what it would look like to relocate our family to Virginia so I could be closer to HQ and fully step into the role. We saw it as an opportunity worth investing in.
(Someday, I’ll share why we ended up staying in ATL just a little while longer…)
When I returned to my team, it was clear they had been through a difficult 12 weeks. Morale was low. Trust was lower. Even our strongest contributors were dejected, uninspired, and looking for an exit.
These people were my teammates long before they were my “direct reports.” They were people I had worked alongside for years. I knew them well enough to recognize that what they needed most wasn’t immediate change.
It was presence.
So I started there.
We got coffee. We went on walks. They talked. I listened.
I tried to understand how it felt from their perspective, not just what changed.
Over time, a consistent theme emerged: a breakdown in communication.
They hadn’t been clearly informed about leadership transitions. They didn’t understand broader organizational changes. And after several restructures and departures, many felt unstable—like they were next.
What they needed was clarity. Context. Consistency.
They needed someone they could trust.
And in that moment, I understood that someone was me.
Rebuilding trust takes time. There’s no shortcut for it.
So, we started by re-establishing communication norms and creating space for honest dialogue, “wellness checks.”
Where the goal was simply to talk. To listen. To be direct about what was working and what wasn’t. We got honest with each other.
We made some tough decisions on staffing, having to let people go who were detracting from our principled culture.
At the same time, we worked to reconnect our day-to-day work to the larger organizational mission, helping the team see how their contributions actually mattered within the bigger picture.
We invested in new technology and AI and up-skilling opportunities like conferences and online educational programs to make a commitment to always be striving for excellence.
Slowly, trust began to rebuild.
Looking back, this was one of my earliest and most defining leadership experiences.
I learned quickly that leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about showing up clearly, consistently, and honestly, even when things are uncertain.
I also learned that transparency has to be balanced with responsibility. I know I’ve made mistakes along the way. Some of which HR would likely not approve of today - where perhaps I was a little too transparent in what was going on. But I chose honesty because I believed trust required it. In hindsight, it was a learning curve in how to balance candor with stewardship.
Today, I’m proud of what the team has become and continues to be.
They are high-performing, resilient, and deeply capable. But more importantly, they trust one another, and they understand how their work connects to something larger than themselves.
And I think that’s the real foundation of leadership. Not control, not direction…but showing up long enough, and consistently enough, that trust has a place to grow.