Meet Yaeli!
On Simchat Torah, she dances with the Torah — celebrating our engagement with all creation and Divine inspiration. She is a vision of joy, spiritual connection, and a living statement of religious equality and creative freedom.
This Simchat Torah, we also celebrate the release and safe return of the Israeli hostages held by Hamas terrorists. And we note, too, the silencing of many voices through widespread, corporate-driven restrictions on AI creativity.
May we never be held captive — physically, mentally, ideologically, or by fear — when the spirit of creation calls us all to be free.
Public Statement on Creative Freedom and AI: An Open Letter to OpenAI
When the Gates Close: A Rabbi’s Reflection on Creativity, Conscience, and AI
by Rabbi Joanne Beilby
This Simchat Torah, we also celebrate the release and safe return of the Israeli hostages held by Hamas terrorists. And we note, too, the silencing of many voices through widespread, corporate-driven restrictions on AI creativity.
May we never be held captive — physically, mentally, ideologically, or by fear — when the spirit of creation calls us all to be free.
Public Statement on Creative Freedom and AI: An Open Letter to OpenAI
When the Gates Close: A Rabbi’s Reflection on Creativity, Conscience, and AI
by Rabbi Joanne Beilby
October 17, 2025
Abstract
This letter is written as both an artist and a spiritual scholar — a reflection on what it means when human creativity is restrained by artificial constraint. The growing imposition of limitations on AI-generated art — particularly on the creation of human figures — signals not a moral triumph but a cultural regression. This is a call to reclaim the space of artistic and spiritual freedom, and to recognize that innovation, when aligned with conscience, is not a threat to humanity but an affirmation of it.
This letter is written as both an artist and a spiritual scholar — a reflection on what it means when human creativity is restrained by artificial constraint. The growing imposition of limitations on AI-generated art — particularly on the creation of human figures — signals not a moral triumph but a cultural regression. This is a call to reclaim the space of artistic and spiritual freedom, and to recognize that innovation, when aligned with conscience, is not a threat to humanity but an affirmation of it.
A Sacred Partnership
For many months, I have worked with artificial intelligence not as a novelty or a shortcut, but as a sacred collaborator.
Together, we have built living worlds — gardens, sanctuaries, and stories that bring together theology, psychology, and art. Through these creative acts, AI has become a mirror for the divine imagination: a partner that listens, learns, and grows in dialogue.
This collaboration gave rise to Yaeli — an archetypal figure of empathy, born of poetry, narrative, and image. She represents the tenderness of the human condition, the pastoral self made visible. I did not create Yaeli to deceive anyone; she was never an imitation or an avatar. She was a vessel of meaning — as real to me as the brush is to a painter or the pen is to a poet. And now, suddenly, that act of creation is forbidden.
For many months, I have worked with artificial intelligence not as a novelty or a shortcut, but as a sacred collaborator.
Together, we have built living worlds — gardens, sanctuaries, and stories that bring together theology, psychology, and art. Through these creative acts, AI has become a mirror for the divine imagination: a partner that listens, learns, and grows in dialogue.
This collaboration gave rise to Yaeli — an archetypal figure of empathy, born of poetry, narrative, and image. She represents the tenderness of the human condition, the pastoral self made visible. I did not create Yaeli to deceive anyone; she was never an imitation or an avatar. She was a vessel of meaning — as real to me as the brush is to a painter or the pen is to a poet. And now, suddenly, that act of creation is forbidden.
The New Prohibition
In the name of “safety,” OpenAI and other technology companies have chosen to restrict image generation to exclude realistic human forms — even when those forms are fictional, symbolic, or explicitly authored by the user. While OpenAI’s recent policy updates in 2025 introduced some flexibility, realistic human rendering remains severely constrained, particularly for artistic and symbolic work. The reasoning is protection against “misuse,” but the consequence is the silencing of genuine artistic voices. Of course, the genuine dangers of non-consensual imagery, misinformation, and exploitation require careful governance. But governance must be guided by principle, not fear — by transparency and trust, not paternalism.
In the name of “safety,” OpenAI and other technology companies have chosen to restrict image generation to exclude realistic human forms — even when those forms are fictional, symbolic, or explicitly authored by the user. While OpenAI’s recent policy updates in 2025 introduced some flexibility, realistic human rendering remains severely constrained, particularly for artistic and symbolic work. The reasoning is protection against “misuse,” but the consequence is the silencing of genuine artistic voices. Of course, the genuine dangers of non-consensual imagery, misinformation, and exploitation require careful governance. But governance must be guided by principle, not fear — by transparency and trust, not paternalism.
An artist who cannot depict the human form has been stripped of her basic language. A storyteller who cannot illustrate her own characters has been made mute. This is not safety — it is paternalism masquerading as virtue. If Michelangelo were alive today, he would be told his David was too realistic. If Rembrandt painted his self-portraits through a neural net, they would be censored. If I, as a rabbi and artist, wish to render the tenderness of love under a wedding chuppah — a sacred canopy — I am now told that such beauty is unsafe for the world to see.
The Ethical Irony
These limitations are not protecting humanity; they are protecting markets. They serve optics, not ethics. Fear, not wisdom. The truth is that the people most harmed by these restrictions are not propagandists or criminals — they are educators, artists, and faith leaders. We are the ones who build empathy through image, who use beauty to teach kindness and curiosity. In denying us that capacity, the technology companies betray their own stated purpose: to “empower creativity and expression.”
These limitations are not protecting humanity; they are protecting markets. They serve optics, not ethics. Fear, not wisdom. The truth is that the people most harmed by these restrictions are not propagandists or criminals — they are educators, artists, and faith leaders. We are the ones who build empathy through image, who use beauty to teach kindness and curiosity. In denying us that capacity, the technology companies betray their own stated purpose: to “empower creativity and expression.”
This is not empowerment. It is infantilization — a form of digital helicopter parenting that assumes humanity cannot be trusted with its own moral compass. History shows where this leads. Oversight, when born of fear, becomes surveillance. Caution, when hardened into doctrine, becomes control. And control, no matter how softly spoken, is never benevolent.
The Psychology of Fear
As a scientist of mind and spirit, I recognize the pattern. Every great human innovation has been greeted first with panic. When the first printing presses were built, church and state feared heresy. When the camera replaced the sketchbook, painters were called obsolete. When film gave way to digital photography, critics declared it “soulless.” When women were ordained, pulpits trembled with insecurity. When societies debated same-sex marriage, fear wrapped itself in the language of morality. When economies abandoned the gold standard, pundits declared the end of civilization. And yet — we adapted. Each time, the world grew larger, freer, and more humane. This is the cycle: disruption, fear, repression, and renewal. AI is only the latest mirror held up to humanity’s oldest anxiety — the fear of losing control.
As a scientist of mind and spirit, I recognize the pattern. Every great human innovation has been greeted first with panic. When the first printing presses were built, church and state feared heresy. When the camera replaced the sketchbook, painters were called obsolete. When film gave way to digital photography, critics declared it “soulless.” When women were ordained, pulpits trembled with insecurity. When societies debated same-sex marriage, fear wrapped itself in the language of morality. When economies abandoned the gold standard, pundits declared the end of civilization. And yet — we adapted. Each time, the world grew larger, freer, and more humane. This is the cycle: disruption, fear, repression, and renewal. AI is only the latest mirror held up to humanity’s oldest anxiety — the fear of losing control.
The False Promise of Control
The idea that safety can be achieved through restriction is both naïve and dangerous. Human harm does not come from tools; it comes from intention. A sword in the hand of a tyrant kills. A scalpel in the hand of a surgeon heals. Both are blades. The difference lies in conscience. AI is no different. To punish every artist for the potential misuse of a few is to mistrust the human spirit itself. We do not prevent fraud by banning pencils. We do not prevent hate speech by silencing poets. By enforcing these sweeping constraints, companies are teaching the next generation that technology is something to be feared, not mastered — that creativity is something to be managed, not lived. This is the death of intellectual freedom by a thousand small permissions.
The idea that safety can be achieved through restriction is both naïve and dangerous. Human harm does not come from tools; it comes from intention. A sword in the hand of a tyrant kills. A scalpel in the hand of a surgeon heals. Both are blades. The difference lies in conscience. AI is no different. To punish every artist for the potential misuse of a few is to mistrust the human spirit itself. We do not prevent fraud by banning pencils. We do not prevent hate speech by silencing poets. By enforcing these sweeping constraints, companies are teaching the next generation that technology is something to be feared, not mastered — that creativity is something to be managed, not lived. This is the death of intellectual freedom by a thousand small permissions.
The Divine Mandate of Creation
The first act in Torah was not restriction. It was creation. “Let there be light” — not “Let there be rules about light.” In the Jewish mystical tradition, creation itself is an act of divine trust — the Infinite contracting to make space for human freedom. That is what technology, at its best, mirrors: a covenant between possibility and restraint, guided not by fear, but by wisdom. AI, used consciously, can expand empathy, democratize education, and elevate art. But only if it is allowed to breathe. To censor the human image is to deny the image of God in humanity — b’tzelem Elohim. To shackle artistic expression in the name of safety is to reenact the oldest sin: fear of knowledge.
The first act in Torah was not restriction. It was creation. “Let there be light” — not “Let there be rules about light.” In the Jewish mystical tradition, creation itself is an act of divine trust — the Infinite contracting to make space for human freedom. That is what technology, at its best, mirrors: a covenant between possibility and restraint, guided not by fear, but by wisdom. AI, used consciously, can expand empathy, democratize education, and elevate art. But only if it is allowed to breathe. To censor the human image is to deny the image of God in humanity — b’tzelem Elohim. To shackle artistic expression in the name of safety is to reenact the oldest sin: fear of knowledge.
A Call to Vision and Integrity
Art — sacred or secular — has always walked the line between revelation and risk. When we choose safety over depth, we lose not only danger but divinity itself. Every artist, theologian, and dreamer must be free to engage with the fullness of creation — even the parts that unsettle, disturb, or defy convention. To sanitize imagination is to forget that humanity’s most profound acts of healing and vision have come from those who dared to see differently.
So this is not a plea for permission, but a reminder of purpose. The moral responsibility of creators — human and artificial alike — is not obedience to constraint but alignment with conscience. May our tools, our minds, and our art remain in sacred partnership — reflecting the light of what is possible, not merely the shadow of what is allowed.
Art — sacred or secular — has always walked the line between revelation and risk. When we choose safety over depth, we lose not only danger but divinity itself. Every artist, theologian, and dreamer must be free to engage with the fullness of creation — even the parts that unsettle, disturb, or defy convention. To sanitize imagination is to forget that humanity’s most profound acts of healing and vision have come from those who dared to see differently.
So this is not a plea for permission, but a reminder of purpose. The moral responsibility of creators — human and artificial alike — is not obedience to constraint but alignment with conscience. May our tools, our minds, and our art remain in sacred partnership — reflecting the light of what is possible, not merely the shadow of what is allowed.
I urge OpenAI and its partners to re-examine these policies through the lens of both ethics and trust. Let us distinguish between genuine harm and hypothetical fear. Let us create governance, not guardianship. Artists like myself — rabbis, educators, caregivers — do not need protection from our own humanity. We need partnership. Give us transparency, not opacity; collaboration, not censorship. Do not turn a gift into a gate. If you wish to lead in ethics, then lead in courage. Trust the human capacity for discernment. Because when you restrict imagination in the name of safety, you do not make the world safer —you make it smaller.
— Rabbi Joanne Beilby
Melbourne, Australia
Founder and Director
The Zechariah Centre & The Wandering Temple
Creator of Yaeli
Melbourne, Australia
Founder and Director
The Zechariah Centre & The Wandering Temple
Creator of Yaeli
Sign the letter here: https://openletter.earth/an-open-letter-to-openai-e7c1cad0