You’ve got to love the irony. A government agency, tasked with communicating vital public safety information, decides the best way to warn people about the unreliability of AI is by… using an AI-generated image. It’s like a firefighter setting a small, controlled blaze to demonstrate fire safety. You can’t make this stuff up. This isn’t some obscure tech start-up making a rookie mistake; this is a public body playing fast and loose with the very trust it’s meant to cultivate.
This entire episode perfectly captures a growing and deeply troubling trend: AI ethics hypocrisy. It’s the digital equivalent of “do as I say, not as I do,” and it’s a surefire way to corrode public confidence at a time when we need it most. When the institutions we rely on for facts start blurring the lines of reality, what are we supposed to believe?
What Exactly is AI Ethics Hypocrisy?
Let’s be clear. This isn’t just about using AI. It’s about the glaring contradiction between an organisation’s public stance on artificial intelligence and its own internal practices. It’s a health authority preaching about data privacy while using a tracking app with more holes than a Swiss cheese. It’s a government vowing transparency while quietly using algorithms to make decisions without oversight or disclosure.
This disconnect creates a credibility gap. The public isn’t daft; people can spot a contradiction a mile off. When a government body warns you about the dangers of AI-generated misinformation and then serves you its own AI-generated content without a label, the message is lost. The only thing communicated is that the rules don’t apply to them. The result? A massive erosion of trust.
The Queensland Case Study: A Masterclass in What Not to Do
A Fishy Situation Down Under
Enter our main character: Fisheries Queensland. With over 143,000 followers on social media, this isn’t some small-town council. It’s a significant public-facing department in Australia. As reported by ABC News, the department has used AI-generated images in at least four posts, all without telling anyone.
The most egregious example? A post featuring a distinctly synthetic-looking image of a man holding a fish, accompanied by a warning not to trust AI for fishing rules and regulations. The very medium undermined the message. It’s a spectacular own goal, a digital pratfall played out in public.
Experts Weigh In, and They’re Not Amused
The experts, quite rightly, had a field day. Professor Tama Leaver of Curtin University called the move “ironic,” which is the academic equivalent of a full-blown facepalm. He pointed out that we are in a “transitional moment where best practice… would be full transparency.” It’s a simple, logical step: just tell people what they’re looking at.
Dr. Paul Harrison from Deakin University was even more direct, labelling it as “lazy” marketing. His take is that in a desperate bid to be clever and grab attention, the department completely fumbled the execution. “Was this the most effective way to get people to take notice?” he asked. Well, it certainly got our notice, but probably not for the reasons they hoped. This Queensland case study has become a textbook example of how a lack of foresight can damage credibility.
Why Public Sector Transparency Is Non-Negotiable
The Bedrock of Public Trust
Here’s the thing about trust: it’s incredibly hard to build and frighteningly easy to lose. For government agencies, public sector transparency isn’t a nice-to-have; it’s the entire game. Without it, public health messages are ignored, regulations are flouted, and the whole system starts to fray.
This small act of deception from Fisheries Queensland contributes to a much larger problem of trust erosion. If we can’t trust them to be straight about a simple social media image, why should we trust them on complex fishing quotas, marine park boundaries, or environmental safety warnings? Each instance of undisclosed AI use chips away at the foundation.
A Simple Fix: Just Say It
The solution here isn’t complicated. There’s no need for a decade-long government inquiry. All that’s needed is a simple, clear disclosure. A small line of text, like (Image generated by AI), would have turned this from a PR disaster into a non-event.
Ethical disclosure isn’t an obstacle; it’s a guardrail. It demonstrates respect for your audience and reinforces the idea that you, as an institution, are committed to honesty. Government agencies should be leading the charge here, not getting caught cutting corners.
The Thorny Problem of Digital Authenticity
Can We Even Spot the Fakes Anymore?
The Fisheries Queensland images were spotted because they still had that tell-tale, slightly-too-perfect sheen of early-gen AI. But this technology is improving at a blistering pace. Soon, distinguishing between a real photograph and a synthetic one will be nearly impossible for the human eye.
This is where the challenge of maintaining digital authenticity becomes critical. Tools like Google’s Synth ID watermark, which was able to detect two of the Queensland images, are a step in the right direction. But this creates a technological arms race—for every detection tool, a new generation of AI will emerge that’s better at hiding its tracks. We can’t rely on technology alone to solve a problem of human ethics.
The Tyranny of ‘Efficiency’
So, why did they do it? The department claimed it was for privacy or legal reasons when real photos weren’t available. But Dr. Harrison’s “lazy” comment probably gets closer to the truth. It was likely faster, cheaper, and easier than commissioning a photographer or finding a suitable stock photo.
This highlights the tension between efficiency and transparency. Public sectors are under constant pressure to do more with less. AI offers a tempting shortcut. But convenience can’t come at the cost of integrity. Prioritising a quick and easy workflow over honest communication is a fool’s bargain, and the long-term price is always public trust.
In the end, the Queensland case study is more than just a funny story about a fish picture. It’s a warning shot. We are at a crossroads where the tools to create synthetic realities are becoming universally accessible. If our public institutions don’t establish and commit to a gold standard for transparency right now, we’re heading for a future where official communication is a confusing mess of real and fake.
This isn’t about banning AI. It’s about using it responsibly. It’s about treating citizens like intelligent adults who deserve to know how the information they consume is being made. The first step is to stamp out AI ethics hypocrisy wherever it appears.
So, what do you think? How much does it matter to you if a government agency uses AI in its communications without telling you? Where do you draw the line?
