When a group of impeccably dressed men walked a fictional red carpet at Coachella, they set off a viral moment—and a debate about authenticity in the age of AI. But the creators behind these digital hunks argue that their work is more than just a thirst trap.
Jae Young Joon, with his deep brown eyes, wide grin, and chiseled physique, looks like a typical Instagram influencer. He posts about sheet masks, soju nights with friends, and Coachella selfies. His music, including the album Pressure Release, features a BDSM-inspired cover. His followers respond with fire emojis and praise.
But Jae isn't real. His bio reads: "Human mind. AI generated." His friends, his music career, and his Coachella trip are all fabricated.
Jae is the creation of Luc Thierry, a Canadian in his early thirties who builds hyper-realistic AI personas. Thierry and others like him say they are misunderstood—dismissed as deceitful when they see themselves as artists exploring new forms of expression. "We're not trying to trick anyone," Thierry says. "The bio is there. The fun is in the collaboration between human creativity and AI."
Critics argue these accounts blur the line between reality and fiction, exploiting followers who may not realize they're engaging with a machine. But the creators counter that fans who comment know exactly what they're interacting with—and they don't care.
As AI-generated influencers become more sophisticated, the debate over their place in social media is only beginning.