Students see GenAI as autonomous, a system with no one behind it. Across all nine drawings, humans appeared only at the edges, as users typing prompts “with no interaction or influence within the system.” Four drawings had no human at all, and none included GenAI’s engineers or designers. The few technically accurate models came from transferred knowledge, never from frequency of use: “I did a study on it two years ago… these models are trained to produce images from noise, which is very similar to TV statics.” I also ran an AI-assisted clustering pass, hierarchical and spectral, over the coded drawings. Both algorithms independently converged on the same split: six black-box models, three technical ones, corroborating the qualitative read.
The most common misconception is specific, and correctable. Four of nine drawings depicted GenAI retrieving existing content rather than generating it: “[My drawing depicts] how it’s trained to, maybe, retrieve from current and updated data.” Where the mechanics were missing, moral metaphor filled the gap instead. One participant drew GenAI as a masked thief. Miscomprehension doesn’t stay neutral. It curdles into mistrust.
In real use, the dividing line isn’t for or against AI. It’s whether AI touches the idea before a person does. In my coding of the discussions, AI use at the very start of ideation appeared zero times. Some participants protect authorship: “I want to have the ownership over my idea.” Others resolve the same tension the opposite way: “We’re giving it the ideas… so it’s kind of OWNED by us. I am not ashamed.” Even the efficiency win reads as a trade against confidence: “When it doesn’t work I feel motivated… When it does, I feel dumb, like a fraud and phony.”