Why I’m Not Joining the AI Action Figure Trend (and Maybe You Shouldn’t Either)

It's not really about the action figures

I’ve been on the internet long enough to recognize a trend when I see one. I’ve seen viral dances, sketchy filters, AR face swaps, and the endless parade of profile pic makeovers. Most of them come and go like digital weather, like brief storms of attention that vanish by next week.

But this latest wave—AI-generated action figures of ourselves—feels different.

Not because the images aren’t cool (they often are).
Not because I don’t understand the impulse (I do).
But because this one taps into something deeper—and not in a good way.

And while I know most people are engaging with it in good fun, I can’t, in good conscience, join in.

Fun Isn’t Free

Let me start by saying: I understand the appeal.

There’s something playful and validating about seeing a hyper-stylized version of yourself in a cape or cowl. For many people, especially those who feel overlooked in the real world, it’s empowering to see a digital self that looks heroic.

But “just for fun” doesn’t mean “without consequence.”

Generative AI doesn’t conjure these images from scratch. It produces them based on models trained on the work of countless real artists. Artists whose portfolios, sketches, and designs were scraped without permission, credit, or compensation into massive data sets and repurposed by tools like DALL·E, Midjourney, and others.

So while you might see a fun avatar, what the model sees is a thousand plagiarized brushstrokes.

That’s the part I can’t unsee. Because “play” that depends on exploitative systems isn’t harmless—it’s just sanitized.

The Vanity Machine

This trend isn’t about celebrating art. It’s about celebrating ourselves. It’s aesthetic narcissism in a new skin—or at least, it risks becoming that if we’re not thoughtful.

That might sound harsh. But I say it not to shame people, but to challenge the direction of our attention.

Vanity has always been part of the digital game. But when it becomes the primary output of tools as powerful and resource-intensive as generative AI, we should ask harder questions.

Like: Is this really how we want to use the most advanced tech of our time? To see ourselves in 4K armor? To chase an algorithmic trend?

Simon Sinek had a great quote I caught on a podcast this week:

A social media influencer is better described as a freelance worker for an algorithm.

What do we want our influence to be? And what algorithm do we want to be our employer?

If You Lead, Be Discerning

Now, if you’re just a casual user having some fun online, I get it. I’m not here to tell you you’re a bad person for trying out a trend. Ghiblify, if you must (you know, that anime filter that turns you into a Miyazaki character).

But if you are a content creator, a tech educator, a pastor, or someone who has ever spoken about AI ethics—this is different.

As digital leaders, we are called to a higher level of discernment. What we platform becomes what our community mirrors. What we celebrate becomes what others normalize.

In my community, I hear the same ringing tone—Generative AI makes them uncomfortable. It really is best to avoid it unless you simply must use it.

So if your AI policy includes values like consent, justice, and intentionality, this trend probably doesn’t align. Because it’s not edifying, it’s not necessary, and it doesn’t model responsible innovation.

If you don’t have an AI policy, consider working off the draft I provided on an article earlier this year:

Church Leader—You're Getting the AI Backlash Wrong

What Glorifies God?

As someone trying to follow Jesus in the digital age, I often find myself returning to Paul’s words: “Whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31).

He wasn’t saying don’t enjoy life. He was reminding the early church that even our smallest choices—yes, even digital ones—can reflect something holy… or something hollow.

So what’s being glorified here?

Is it the Creator?
Or the created self?

Is it the community?
Or the algorithm?

Is it justice?
Or aesthetics?

A Word to the Anxious Generation

Let’s zoom out for a second.

If you’re someone who’s concerned about the loneliness epidemic, who quotes Jonathan Haidt, or who advocates for digital detoxes in schools—this trend should feel familiar.

It’s part of the same problem.

This isn’t just an avatar. It’s an algorithmic substitute for identity. It’s a way of saying “I matter” in a world that often doesn’t show us that we do.

And I get that. I truly do.

I’ve written before about the loneliness that drives digital mimicry and the way our platforms demand that we constantly prove our value online. This trend is just another mirror of that reality.

But these AI portraits won’t hug you back. They won’t text you when you’re grieving. They won’t pray with you, or laugh with you, or remind you who you are when you forget.

They’re echoes in the void—beautiful, high-res, stylized echoes. But echoes nonetheless.

The solution to disconnection isn’t better mirrors. It’s better community.

Let’s Imagine Something Better

So no—I won’t be turning myself into a digital action figure.
And I’d gently invite you to pause and discern before you do, too.

I’m not against AI. I’m not even against fun.

I’m for better use of these tools.
I’m for creativity that uplifts.
I’m for technology that helps us see one another more clearly—not just ourselves more glamorously.

So what if we used generative AI to tell collective stories instead of personal legends?
To honor marginalized voices instead of stylizing our own?
To dream together instead of dressing up alone?

That’s a trend I’d gladly join.

World 3-7 Complete

Q: Why did my AI action figure come with a sword and no pants?
A: Midjourney got confused between “battle-ready” and “remote worker.”