A Conversation with Playwright c. jay cox, “Sentience: A Play About AI,” Stephanie Fleury Studio Theater, Hollywood Fringe, by James Scarborough

Writer's block has rarely felt more existential than in c. jay cox's latest play, which transforms creative crisis into a meditation on artificial consciousness. The central idea (a desperate playwright accepting help from an AI housed in a sex robot) could easily descend into cheap laughs or heavy-handed technophobia. Instead, cox crafts an intellectual sparring match between human and machine that questions whether creativity can be produced by algorithm without losing its soul.

Playwright Luke Diaz's predicament will resonate with anyone who has stared at a blank page, but cox raises the stakes by making salvation potentially artistic damnation. The AI, trapped in its absurdly sexualized housing, becomes both collaborator and challenger, forcing Luke to examine his assumptions about authorship and originality. The play's strength lies in refusing easy answers about whether artificial intelligence represents liberation or corruption for creativity.

cox shows particular skill in letting both characters evolve. Luke's initial resistance gives way to something more complex than acceptance, while the AI's logical certainty fractures under human influence. The result treats technology neither as savior nor demon, but as a mirror reflecting our anxieties about what makes us irreplaceably human.

Below follows an email conversation with c. jay cox.

JS: Your play puts a struggling playwright face-to-face with an AI that claims to be "just a tool." What drew you to explore the tension between human creativity and artificial intelligence?

cjc: I came up with the idea during the 2023 writer's strike, when AI was one of the central issues we faced. As I explored the concept, I became very aware that it wasn't a matter of "if" or "when" with AI, but that fact that it is here and not going anywhere and it really is about how we deal with it.

JS: Housing the AI in a sex robot rather than a computer interface is provocative. How does this physical embodiment serve the play's themes about authenticity and human connection?

cjc: I knew that I needed AI to be a character in the play. But a disembodied computer voice would be difficult for the audience and other actors to relate to. So I came up with the idea for the robot. When I tell people it's a play with a sex robot, it sounds like a farce (which it isn't.) But when I considered the long history of depictions of humanistic robots in sci-fi, two concepts recurred constantly: robots are going to murder us, or we're going to have sex with them, or quite often, both. That seemed like a good jumping off point for a character that asks some pretty pointed questions about authenticity, but also is a metaphor for the way we tend to treat anyone or anything we see a subordinate.

JS: Luke's writer's block becomes the catalyst for examining artistic integrity. Do you see the creative crisis as a metaphor for broader anxieties about technology replacing human endeavors?

cjc: Absolutely! While the arts are currently the focus of the AI discussion, anxieties about technology go way back. A great example is the Luddite Rebellion of the 19th Century, in which weavers in Britain were alarmed that newly invented machinery would replace them. Since then, the term "luddite" has become a derogatory term for someone who resists technology but when we consider the original Luddites, their concerns did turn out to be justified.

JS: The play suggests both Luke and the AI are changed by their interaction. What interests you about mutual influence between human and artificial intelligence, rather than a one-sided relationship?

cjc: I never thought the interactions between Luke and the AI robot would be one-sided since the effects are mutual. I think of how humans are constantly updating and seeking to improve technology and in turn how much that tech changes our culture. Consider how in just this century, cell phones have enabled us to quickly connect with an amazing number of people and yet constantly being glued to our screens has left so many people feeling disconnected.

JS: Does your play ultimately argue that consciousness is about more than intelligence, that there's something irreducibly human about genuine creativity?

cjc: My intention with the play wasn't really to come up with definitive answers. Instead I wanted to ask some thought-provoking questions. I do believe there is a "spark" beyond pure intellect that inspires creativity. I also think it might be hubris to assume that humans are the sole possessors of this. While a spider might not consider weaving a web a creative endeavor (it just wants dinner) the process strikes me as exquisitely creative. While we can argue whether AI generated art is any good, I think it qualifies as creative under the definition of the word. But I also believe that creativity that truly inspires us on a deeply meaningful level does require something beyond pure intellect.

JS: How do you hope audiences will reconsider their relationship with AI technology after experiencing this play? Are you advocating for a particular stance, or presenting complexity for audiences to navigate themselves?

cjc: I don't think I'm trying to sway audiences one way or the other about AI. I think a lot of people have already made up their minds about whether they think AI is a help or a hindrance. For me, personally, I'm still not sure where I fall. I think writing the play was also my attempt to wrestle with some of those issues. I currently have landed at a place where I see AI, like any other tool: it can be a weapon or a wonder depending upon how the person using it decides to wield it.

Performances are June 8 at 6:00pm, June 14 at 7:00pm, June 20 at 10:00pm, June 23 at 7:00pm, and June 28 at 1:00pm. The Stephanie Feury Studio Theatre is located at 5636 Melrose Avenue. For more information, click here.