How GPT-4o’s AI images sparked a Ghibli-inspired controversy

AI breakthroughs often inspire wonder, and sometimes a bit of chaos. OpenAI’s latest updates to GPT-4o is the latest example: a multimodal model that generates text, audio, and now remarkably vivid images. In a matter of days, its ability to transform ordinary photos into scenes straight out of a Studio Ghibli film (the legendary Japanese animation studio behind global hits like ‘Spirited Away’ or ‘My Neighbour Totoro’) became an internet sensation.

Yet what began as playful “Ghibli-fied” memes and portraits has quickly spiralled into a serious controversy that raises tough questions about artistic integrity, copyright and the limits of AI’s creative freedom.

But before we get into it, a reality check. Before adopting GPT-4o, or any AI image tool, businesses and developers need to take a hard look at the risks. Here’s what you must consider:

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Check usage rights

Always review the AI tool’s terms and content policies Owning the output doesn’t protect you if it closely resembles copyrighted work

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Avoid IP lookalikes

Don’t prompt AI to mimic trademarked characters, famous art, or proprietary styles, especially for commercial use

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Set team guidelines

Create rules for using AI art, like flagging anything that resembles known styles or IP for extra review before publishing

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Monitor policy updates

AI platforms change fast. What’s allowed now might not be later, so stay flexible and have alternatives ready

With those precautions in mind, let’s unpack what exactly happened with GPT-4o and why it has the tech and creative industries concerned.

The Ghibli filter goes viral

When OpenAI rolled out GPT-4o’s new image generation feature in late March, it showcased several impressive advancements. This update introduced the ability to generate high-fidelity images (and even short videos) directly within ChatGPT, following detailed prompts with unprecedented accuracy.

For the first time, users could simply type an idea and GPT-4o would paint it, often with startling quality and even legible text on signs or logos, a feat previous AI art tools struggled with. OpenAI touted this as its most advanced image generator yet, capable of handling complex scene descriptions and producing results in myriad art styles.

Almost immediately, users on social media seized on one particular style: the whimsical, hand-drawn look of Studio Ghibli. Within hours, X (formerly Twitter) and Instagram were flooded with in the style of Ghibli creations. People were feeding GPT-4o everything from everyday selfies to famous movie scenes and historical events and getting back images that looked like stills from an unreleased Hayao Miyazaki movie. A meme was born.

Classic internet jokes and memes got a Ghibli makeover.

Even major pop culture and political moments were not spared: fans shared a reanimated trailer of The Lord of the Rings in Ghibli’s style, and one viral post depicted Elon Musk and President Donald Trump as if they were characters in a Ghibli adventure. The mash-ups were equal parts enchanting and absurd, and they spread like wildfire.

OpenAI’s CEO, Sam Altman, even joined the fun – he changed his profile picture on X to a portrait of himself drawn with the wide-eyed, storybook charm of a Ghibli protagonist.

It was a tongue-in-cheek nod to the trend, almost as if the company was proud that its tool could produce such imagery. Altman joked that after years of working on advanced AI, it was these cartoonish Ghibli memes that finally captured the public’s imagination. Indeed, GPT-4o’s image prowess was proving to be a breakthrough moment for AI in the mainstream. By all accounts, OpenAI had a hit on its hands.

Yet, as the ‘Ghibli filter’ phenomenon grew, not everyone was smiling. To some artists and observers, this viral indulgence in AI-generated anime art felt less like harmless fun and more like a provocation. The reason? Studio Ghibli’s artwork is not just any style; it’s the signature of a living legend, director Hayao Miyazaki, who has been vocally opposed to artificial intelligence in art. What many saw as a creative homage, others saw as a brash appropriation of Ghibli’s life’s work, without permission.

Inspiration or infringement?

The backlash arrived almost as quickly as the memes. On forums and social platforms, artists decried the trend as disrespectful and “insidious.” They pointed out that Hayao Miyazaki famously once called AI-generated art “an insult to life itself.” (In a 2016 documentary, Miyazaki reacted with horror to a demo of AI animation, stating he was “utterly disgusted” and would never use such technology.)

Now his unique art style – which took decades of human creativity to perfect – was being imitated at scale by a machine.

To many in the creative community, this felt like a theft of artistry, even if no single image was directly copied. Critics accused OpenAI of effectively laundering Studio Ghibli’s intellectual property through AI. After all, how did GPT-4o learn to draw a creature that looks so much like Totoro or capture the painterly skies of Princess Mononoke without training on countless Ghibli images? The model must have absorbed Ghibli’s creations (and lots of fan art) during training – none of which OpenAI likely licensed. Now the company was reaping the benefits, as users happily generated lookalike art at zero cost, with zero credit to the original artists.

To sceptics, it was a stark example of Silicon Valley’s “ask forgiveness, not permission” ethos: build a cool demo using other people’s content, deal with the legalities later.

Tensions escalated when the trend took a controversial turn. With GPT-4o’s content filters relaxed in this update (OpenAI had recently loosened rules to allow more “creative freedom”), users pushed into edgier territory.

Soon there were Ghibli-style depictions of real-world tragedy and violence circulating online. In one instance, someone generated an image of the 9/11 attacks reimagined in pastel anime style. Another infamous example saw Adolf Hitler rendered as a cuddly cartoon figure – a jarring and offensive juxtaposition.

The most high-profile incident came from the United States government itself: the White House’s official social media account posted a Ghibli-esque illustration of an immigration officer handcuffing a crying detainee. Intended to promote a tough-on-crime message, the post instead drew outrage for its bizarre, tone-deaf presentation; essentially using a beloved children’s art style to sugarcoat a harsh real-world arrest.

Animated ethics

These uses went far beyond fan tributes. They demonstrated how muddled the ethical lines have become. Was the Ghibli filter trend celebrating a style of art, or exploiting it? Studio Ghibli’s North American distributor, GKIDS, weighed in during a press release coinciding with a 4K re-release of Princess Mononoke in theatres, GKIDS highlighted the film’s “hand-drawn glory” and noted how audiences still value the real artistry over “technology that tries to replicate humanity.”

Without directly attacking OpenAI, the message was clear: no AI imitation can capture the true spirit of Miyazaki’s work. Fans of traditional animation agreed that what makes Ghibli special is more than a visual style; it’s the human touch, the storytelling, the soul behind each frame, none of which a quick AI filter can truly reproduce.

On the flipside, some AI enthusiasts argued that using an art style isn’t outright theft. To them, these AI-generated images were original compositions, merely inspired by Ghibli’s aesthetics . After all, human artists have long drawn in the style of their favourites; why should a machine doing the same be treated differently? This camp sees GPT-4o as a new kind of creative tool that can pay homage to classics or imagine new crossovers (like Sopranos scenes in anime form) that human artists might never combine.

From their POV, as long as no actual copyrighted image was duplicated pixel-for-pixel, it’s a grey area at worst, and perhaps even a form of transformative art at best.

The divide in opinion highlights a fundamental question at the heart of this controversy: where is the line between inspiration and infringement? Studio Ghibli’s style is unmistakably its own, yet it’s also an abstract quality – a “feel” and technique. Can a style itself be owned?

Legally, copyright protects specific expression (like a particular painting or character), but not general artistic styles or ideas. GPT-4o isn’t reproducing exact frames from Spirited Away; it’s generating new images that merely look like they belong in that universe. That legal nuance makes the issue tricky: it feels like theft to many, but the law isn’t clearly equipped to say so. And that’s exactly why all eyes are now on how OpenAI, and possibly the courts, respond to this challenge.

The bigger picture

One thing is certain: the GPT-4o Ghibli controversy is more than just a one-off meme war – it reminds us that technology doesn’t exist in a vacuum – it collides with culture, law, and livelihoods. The enchanted forests and friendly spirits of Ghibli films were born from a very human creative process; replicating their likeness with silicon and code touches a deep nerve in our society about what art means and who owns it.

As AI tools grow more powerful, expect more friction around where inspiration ends and imitation begins.

Nathan Marlor is our Head of Data and AI. For more detail on how our AI expertise is driving innovation and helping businesses around the world transform,  click here.