Is the body a source of value, or a medium for meaning?

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— Choosing who to spend time with in the age of AI —

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Kosuke Shirako

We have entered an era where AI can generate any face, any body, as video exactly as desired. Beautiful imagery no longer requires "the actual person." Hearing this, I paused. For those of us who have lived our lives with our bodies as objects to be chosen by others, is this a blessing, or is it something else entirely?

A casual conversation prompted me to reflect deeply on this question. The dialogue began with subscription-based fan clubs like Fantia, and eventually expanded to the era of AI-generated video, the distinction between work that involves "showing" the body and work that involves "touching" it, and the meaning of choosing marriage and child-rearing. In the midst of these shifts, perhaps we need to ask ourselves: Does the physical body still hold value—or more precisely, is the body the source of value, or a medium of meaning?


What Is Happening Now

The economy of commodifying the body is no longer novelty. In subscription-based fan club formats, creators provide content while subscribers pay for access. In Japan, platforms like Fantia, myfans, pixivFANBOX, and Ci-en exist, while OnlyFans and Fansly dominate overseas. Although Article 175 of Japan’s Penal Code mandates pixelation mosaic, uncensored content is the norm abroad. Consequently, an increasing number of Japanese creators are moving to OnlyFans in search of freer self-expression. The transition of former adult video actress Anri Okita to OnlyFans was reported as one prominent example. Across borders, the occupation of "showing" the body has established itself as a viable industry.

Into this arena, AI has intervened. Using tools like SoulGen or ZenCreator, one can generate nudes of non-existent individuals, or even footage resembling a specific real person. Although deepfakes create privacy violations where faces are misappropriated without consent and blur the line between real and fake, the technology continues to advance. The boundary between beauty and eros is becoming ambiguous, leaving society fluctuating between freedom of expression and regulation.

What AI strips away is "scarcity." Depictions of the perfect body are no longer rare. Yet, there remains something AI cannot replicate: the sharing of time. Coexisting with someone in the same moment, in the same physical space—that is something that cannot be generated.

Women have long lived with the body as an "observed object." Standards for being selected—shape, skin, hair, age—have evolved over time, yet have remained constant fixtures. Today, this mutual selection occurs through dating apps and social media. Choosing profile pictures on Pairs or Tinder, curating one's image on Instagram, and broadcasting on X. Who one meets and who one is selected by is controlled by the digital "self" on the screen. Now that AI mass-produces "perfect bodies," those standards have become even more complex. It is frequently discussed as a threat. Yet within the same transformation lies another possibility. Monetizing without physical contact becomes viable. Self-presentation independent of age becomes possible. Engaging in body-mediated expression or work while maintaining anonymity is achievable. Alongside the narrative of fear, there is also a narrative of agency. Between authenticity and selectability, how should we position ourselves?


Global Trends, Including Asia

This phenomenon is not unique to Japan. Looking across the globe, including Asia, the severity of regulations and the expansion of platforms differ vastly by country and region.

In Japan, pixelation mosaic is mandated under Article 175 of the Penal Code, and in 2024, individual registration became compulsory for online adult entertainment services, with penalties for unregistered operations. South Korea enforces strict regulations on expression, extending broadly even to creative works. In China, access to adult websites is restricted entirely, making the distribution of adult content virtually impossible. Singapore imposes imprisonment for transmitting or sharing obscene images. On the other hand, Taiwan is considered relatively lenient, and Southeast Asia varies greatly by state. In Western countries, OnlyFans and Fansly serve as hubs, establishing a market where uncensored content is mainstream.

Consequently, many Asian creators are leaving regulated domestic platforms to move their activities to overseas services. The migration of Japanese creators to OnlyFans is one such example. Responses to AI-generated content and deepfakes are also fragmented. While Europe is advancing the regulation of AI through legal frameworks, Asian nations like South Korea and Singapore are moving to tighten controls.

How we present and protect our bodies is deeply bound by the laws and culture of where we live. While global platforms expand across borders, the rules governing physical bodies remain distinctly local.


"Temporal Constraint" Instead of "Physicality"—Another Axis of Hierarchy

An interesting paradigm emerged during the conversation: a hierarchy of eros. It suggested that the most "real" tier lies in direct physical contact, such as escort services or hands-on sex work. Next is AI-generated content. Beneath that sits performance content that is merely "shown" on platforms like Fantia or OnlyFans.

Yet, measuring this hierarchy solely on the axis of "physicality" may be insufficient. There is a perspective that the essence of the body lies not in being touched, but in "consuming time together." Sex work, marriage, and child-rearing actually differ more in their degree of "temporal constraint" than in their physicality.

Sex work is time-limited, sharing the body within a fixed frame. OnlyFans and Fantia offer simulated time—purchasing the experience of being present through recorded footage. In between is the courtship facilitated by dating apps and social media: selecting through profiles, connecting through messages, and deciding whether to meet. Meeting might lead to a time-limited relationship, or sprout into long-term shared time. Alternatively, it may remain a simulated connection confined within the screen. Marriage is the long-term sharing of time, gathering days together under one roof. Parent and child represents irreversible time; once born, there is no turning back. A child is an irrevocable relationship connecting both the past and the future.

This hierarchy may not be one of physicality, but rather of the irreversibility of time. Limited time, simulated time, long-term shared time, irreversible time—the degree of this constraint determines what we value and where we locate meaning.

Indeed, the average monthly income for escort workers is said to be 600,000 to 700,000 yen. Meanwhile, estimates suggest platform creators with over 600 fans earn about 100,000 to 300,000 yen per month. While top-tier creators can earn millions of yen monthly, the vast majority do not. This disparity in revenue may depend not just on physical reality, but on the degree of temporal constraint—how much authentic time is shared.

If so, the question becomes: Is the body the source of value, or does it mediate meaning? Within the act of spending time together, what do we choose to keep, and what do we choose to let go?


Choosing Connection

Another future that surfaced from the conversation was bifurcation. When choosing physical eros, two paths diverge: one with connection, and one without. One either chooses the bond of a partner or spouse, or opts for transactional physical content empty of connection. In the end, it is human beings who make these choices. For instance, some choose marriage and family, while others choose to commodify their bodies on digital platforms. Some date partners met via dating apps and eventually marry, while others use the same apps for repetitive, casual encounters. Some connect deeply with people met on social media, while others find satisfaction in simulated relationships with followers. While all are centered on body and time, the boundary between choosing irreversible relationships and transactional ones is increasingly blurred.

Choosing connection carries both positive and negative dimensions. Selecting a partner or child provides support against loneliness, offering someone to rely on in old age or illness. There is joy in sharing time and accumulating memories. Conversely, it brings the burden of being bound to another and compromising one's self to compromise. The risks of divorce, separation, and the financial and emotional costs of raising a child are substantial. The path of choosing no connection offers freedom and autonomy. One can treat one's body according to one's own will, ending transactional relationships as needed. Yet, it comes with the loneliness of aging without deep bonds, and the anxiety of having no one to turn to in times of need. Whichever path is chosen, there are gains and losses.

Further along that path lie the distinct layers of parenting and marriage. Marrying and having children are irreversible relationships. Though one can divorce, the parent-child bond remains indelible; it cannot be undone. It was pointed out that as AI becomes more integrated and physical substitution becomes commonplace, even fewer people may opt for such heavy choices. The acceleration of declining birthrates may stem from this perceived difficulty of choosing such weight.

Mortality is inherent to humanity. Parents symbolize the past, couples symbolize the present, and children symbolize the future. Within our limited time, what do we invest in, and what do we seek to leave behind? AI may erase scarcity, but it cannot strip away the sharing of time. That question has lingered with us long before the advent of AI.


Will We Still Choose Irreversible Time?—A Question for the Future

Finally, I want to pose one question in return. If in the future, AI becomes capable of fully replicating touch, warmth, and scent, will there still be people who choose "irreversible time"? Or will humanity drift entirely toward reversibility?

One individual offered this response: those who choose irreversible time will remain. This is not a logical conclusion, but something rooted in physical discomfort and intuitive aversion. Perhaps it is coded into human DNA. We prefer natural food over perfectly safe synthetic food. The moment we recognize something as fake, its appeal drops instantly. Humans do not operate purely on rationality; evolutionary circuits deep within the physical body compel us.

It has also been suggested that the value remaining in the AI era is not the body itself, but "sharing irreversible risk." Having a child is a point of no return. Marrying means intertwining lives. Growing old together means betting on the future. These are inefficient choices. Yet, we feel a strange disconnect in relationships where the other party carries no risk, has nothing to lose, and can reset at any moment. It is precisely because danger is involved that a sense of authenticity is born.

There was another perspective on having children: to