The Soul of Dance: Why AI Can't Replicate Human Expression

The Technological Frontier Meets Ancient Traditions

In an era where artificial intelligence promises to reshape every facet of human existence, the world of dance stands as a remarkable bastion of authentic human expression. Recent testing by CalMatters and The Markup reveals that despite significant advancements, AI video-generation models from leading companies like OpenAI, Google, MiniMax, and Kuaishou consistently fail to replicate specific dance forms with genuine accuracy. The research involved 36 tests across nine distinct dance styles—from the Cahuilla Band of Indians’ bird dance to folklorico and contemporary forms—demonstrating that while AI can generate human-like movement, it cannot capture the essence of what makes dance meaningful.

The technological shortcomings are both technical and profound. AI-generated videos frequently display liquefied limbs, inconsistent clothing, abnormal movements, and anatomical impossibilities that betray their artificial origins. More importantly, as tribal member Emily Clarke observes regarding AI attempts at bird dance, the technology “would miss the cultural and social importance, and without that, it’s not bird dancing.” This distinction between mechanical replication and authentic expression lies at the heart of the concern surrounding AI’s incursion into artistic domains.

Dance represents one of humanity’s most ancient forms of cultural transmission, spiritual practice, and community building. For the Cahuilla people, bird dance tells the story of creation and migration—a practice that connects participants to their ancestors and land in ways that transcend mere physical movement. Similarly, Nadia Arambula describes folklorico as projecting “pride in Mexican culture and manifests joy and a sense of freedom” that she believes AI can never replicate. These cultural dimensions represent layers of meaning that extend far beyond what can be captured through motion capture or data scraping.

The issue of consent looms large in these discussions. Dancers like Emma Andre express discomfort with the idea that “my body and my dancing is mine, and the idea that that can just be siphoned through this process and then become part of AI without my consent is something that I don’t love.” This concern mirrors broader ethical questions about data ownership in the digital age, particularly as AI companies scrape publicly available content to train their models without compensating or even notifying the creators.

The Economic Realities for Working Dancers

For professional dancers like Edye Kelly and Zion Harris, who rely on performances, tours, and teaching for their livelihoods, AI represents both a potential threat and an uncertain frontier. Kelly notes that full-body motion technology has already begun “encroaching on human dancers’ territory” through video games like “Just Dance” that blend real dancers’ movements with digital augmentation. Harris, who has performed with major artists like Bad Bunny and Lil Nas X, acknowledges the worrying possibility of his moves being “copied off social media platforms by AI” while recognizing that social media remains essential for career advancement.

The economic vulnerability of dancers is compounded by the fact that, unlike screen actors and writers who have union protections, most dancers lack collective bargaining power. The recent SAG-AFTRA strikes addressed AI concerns for performers, but dancers exist in a more precarious position. This disparity highlights concerning power imbalances in how technological disruption affects different creative professions.

When Innovation Meets Expression: A Democratic Imperative

The Inalienable Human Spirit in Artistic Expression

The fundamental limitation of AI in replicating dance reveals something essential about human creativity: it cannot be reduced to algorithms or data points. Dance embodies freedom of expression in its purest form—a physical manifestation of the human spirit that transcends technical proficiency. When Emma Andre describes improvisation as stemming from “fascia level” connections throughout the body, she identifies a dimension of human experience that exists beyond external observation or measurement. This represents not just artistic preference but a fundamental aspect of human liberty—the right to create and express in ways that cannot be commodified or replicated without consent.

The attempts to automate dance parallel concerning trends across society where human experiences are increasingly mediated through technology. The danger lies not in technological advancement itself, but in the devaluation of authentic human connection and expression. As Zion Harris observes, “Having a hologram, or digital images on a screen, would be boring” compared to live human performers who “bring the artist’s vision alive.” This preference for genuine human presence reflects a deeper democratic value: that human interaction and expression possess irreducible worth that technology should enhance rather than replace.

Cultural Preservation and Technological Colonialism

The potential misuse of AI to appropriate cultural dances raises alarming questions about technological colonialism. When AI models attempt to replicate Indigenous practices like the Cahuilla bird dance without understanding their spiritual significance, they risk perpetuating the same cultural erasure that colonization attempted. Emily Clarke’s perspective is particularly poignant: bird dance represents “an act not only of spirituality but also of perseverance, since bird dance is among the acts of Native American culture nearly eradicated by colonization and U.S. government policy.” For technology companies to now scrape and replicate these cultural practices without context or consent constitutes a profound disrespect for cultural sovereignty.

This dynamic reflects a broader pattern where technology often amplifies existing power imbalances. The development of AI dance models relies heavily on training data scraped from the internet, disproportionately benefiting those with resources to develop AI systems while potentially exploiting creators from marginalized communities. The ethical framework for AI development must include robust protections for cultural heritage and ensure that technological advancement does not come at the expense of cultural preservation.

The Democratic Balance Between Innovation and Protection

The tension between technological innovation and artistic protection represents a critical test for democratic values in the digital age. On one hand, experiments like those conducted by Kinetech demonstrate how technology can enhance human creativity when used collaboratively. Daiane Lopes de Silva finds value in motion capture as “a tool for self reflection,” while Kat Lin appreciates how technological glitches can create “opportunities to explore the unexpected.” These constructive applications show that technology need not be antagonistic to human expression.

However, democratic principles require clear boundaries to protect individual rights and cultural integrity. The legislative efforts in California to protect performers from unauthorized digital replication represent important steps toward establishing these boundaries. Similarly, the proposed bill that would place “digital fingerprints on copyright material” acknowledges the need for transparency and consent in how creative work is used to train AI systems. These policy developments reflect a democratic approach to technological governance—one that embraces innovation while safeguarding fundamental rights.

The essential question, as articulated by UCLA professor Kate Ladenheim, is “What is the implication if we can subtract the human body from choreography?” This inquiry goes beyond artistic preference to touch on core democratic values about human dignity, creative freedom, and cultural preservation. The answer must ensure that technological progress does not diminish the irreplaceable value of human expression.

Toward an Ethical Future for Dance and Technology

The relationship between AI and dance ultimately reflects broader societal choices about how technology integrates with human experience. As USC professor d. Sabela grimes notes, the impact depends on “what audiences and artists want” and whether people value “a virtual experience vs. a human experience.” This choice is not merely aesthetic but deeply political—it concerns what kind of society we wish to build and what values we prioritize.

The most promising path forward lies in approaches that view technology as a collaborator rather than a replacement. Ari Kalinowski’s observation that “people still play chess after Deep Blue beat Gary Kasparov” suggests that human creativity can coexist with advanced AI when the technology augments rather than replaces human expression. Similarly, the work at Kinetech demonstrates how human-AI collaboration can create new artistic possibilities while centering human connection.

Ultimately, the preservation of dance as a vital human expression requires vigilance from both creators and society. It demands ethical frameworks that protect cultural heritage, ensure fair compensation, and prioritize consent. Most importantly, it requires recognizing that some forms of human expression are too profound, too connected to identity and community, to be reduced to algorithms. The soul of dance—like democracy itself—depends on protecting spaces where human freedom and connection can flourish without technological mediation. This protection represents not resistance to progress, but commitment to preserving what makes us uniquely human in an increasingly automated world.