AI is all over the place and most of the times, now, overuse. So you may ask what about artificial intelligence and The Nude House.
We use it. It’s of tremendous help and The Nude House could not exist without is. Here where we use it:
- It helps us organize bilingual publishing operations.
- It helps us examine drafts, find repetition, prepare translations, maintain production files, explore structures, and move an idea through the many small stages between a note and a finished article or book.
- It has allowed me to build more than I could build alone at the same speed.
But speed is not the purpose and volume is not value.
Some of you have challenged us about this. Some of the criticism has been sharp. The underlying question is fair: if a publishing house talks about human freedom, ordinary bodies, lived naturism, and literary value, what happens when its work begins to look or sound as though a machine produced it?
I don’t want to sound defensive. I take full responsibility for what appears under The Nude House name. If a text feels synthetic, if an image feels disposable, or if a reader can no longer hear a person behind the work, I dont think pointing at the tool changes nothing. As the founder and NEO (Nude Executive Officer), the final responsibility is mine.
This discussion led to decide to strongly fight AI slop and AI fatigue. Those are related problems, but they are not the same.
AI fatigue comes from repetition. The same type of illustration or the same visual atmosphere appearing so often that individual images stop meaning anything. Even a beautiful style becomes tiring when it is repeating.
AI slop goes deeper. It is language or imagery made without enough observation, judgment, or care. It can be grammatically clean, can look professional, yet you can feel something’s phony as if nobody seems to have risked a thought, noticed a contradiction, or decided that one sentence matters more than another.
That is the danger I take seriously.
What AI is good for here
The Nude House is not banning AI. That would be a simple announcement, but a lie and not an honest account of how the House works.
AI is useful when it behaves like an assistant. It can question an outline, compare versions, expose a weak transition, organize research, identify missing production details, or help turn a body of source material into something I can judge. It can automate the machinery of a small publishing house so it feels less exhausting, on a human level.
Although some of you may disagree, It can also participate in creative work. An imagined fiction scene may suit illustration better than photography. A visual experiment may be worth making precisely because it could not exist in front of a camera. In other words, used deliberately, AI can open a door.
The trouble begins when assistance becomes substitution and is used without any form of distinction.
AI is a machine trained on billions of text, but it has never lived naked. It has never felt the first few steps onto a nude beach, the shift that happens in your mind when your realize that nobody stares, or the change in a relationship that happens at a naturist resot when nakedness becomes ordinary. It can arrange language about those experiences, but cannot own them, at least in my opinion as writer and publisher.
The experience, conviction, evidence, and central insight must come from a person.
What the pushback got right
When readers question AI-assisted work, the easiest response is to explain the workflow and defend the amount of human supervision involved. That explanation may be accurate, but it can miss the point.
A reader does not encounter our workflow, he or she encounters the page.
If the page feels anonymous, too even, emotionally manufactured, or slop as we now call it, then our internal effort has not reached the reader. And we have a huge quality problem, then.
There comes also the massive challenge around authenticity. Naturism already lives under layers of false imagery: ideal bodies, coy advertising, erotic suggestion, resort fantasy, and photographs that make ordinary nude life look like a luxury product. Adding endless artificial bodies and scenes just deepen the distance between the life we describe and the one naturists actually live.
The answer is not to insist that readers learn to appreciate our tools. It is to make better editorial decisions.
What changes now
So we’re going to change a few things, and first the images.
Once again, we won’t drop AI 100%, but we will rotate visual forms, with uman photography will become the largest part of the mix. I will use more of my own photographs, contributed images with permission, and carefully chosen work from photographers on sources such as Pexels, Unsplash, and Pixabay, as we were doing in the past. I also want to credit photographers even when a licence does not require it. We will also use typography, designed cards, archive material, commissioned illustration, and, when the writing needs no decoration, no image at all.
As said, AI illustration remains part of the House, particularly for fiction and imagined worlds. It will not be the automatic answer to every empty image slot.
The second change concerns writing.
When we draft a nonfiction article, it’s always from a human source: a memory, an observation, something I actually said or read, a real reader question, an interview, a photograph a reader, a collaborator or I saw, a fact or an event, or a genuine doubt or disagreement. Fiction also has its own human anchor: observed behavior, a remembered place, an emotional contradiction, or a social situation with consequences beyond the premise.
Before a piece is considered final, we will ask harder questions. What in this article could only have come from this House? Which sentence does its author genuinely stand behind? What was observed or sourced rather than merely inferred? Where is the tension, uncertainty, consequence, or choice? What will the piece allow a reader to notice, reconsider, or do?
If those answers are vague, a polished draft is still not ready.
The part that remains mine
Tools will change. My responsibility does not.
I choose what The Nude House publishes. I decide which ideas deserve development, which claims need evidence, which sentences feel false, and which criticism should change the way we work. I also accept that I will not always get those decisions right on the first attempt.
That last point matters. A human publication should be capable of being corrected by its readers. If and when someone says a piece feels artificial and AI slop, I will ask for the sentence or image that created that feeling, because I don’t want to hide behind a general defense of innovation. Specific criticism gives us something we can examine. Sometimes I may disagree. Sometimes the reader will have seen the problem before I did. And that’s okay.
The Nude House is meant to be a literary home for naturist life, not a content machine wearing naturist language. AI can help with the work. It cannot be the reason the work exists.
The reason is still human: the wish to understand this wonderful lifestyle that is naturism and nudism, describe it truthfully, make it easier for others to enter, and give naturist experience a body of writing worth keeping. And this exists because I’m passionate about nudism and naturism.
That is where and how I draw the line.
If you have read something from The Nude House that felt unusually alive, or something that felt generic, over-polished, or false, I would genuinely like to know which passage or image gave you that impression. Specific examples will help us improve more than either praise or condemnation in the abstract.
If you want to support a human-led naturist publishing house that is willing to show its working methods, join The Nude House community on Substack.
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