Human Designers vs. AI Website Design: Where Craft Still Counts

I recently went to a Sleep Token concert (aka a “ritual”). While they’re not everyone’s cup of tea, I simply don’t care. The creative, sensitive human in me appreciates how they find ways to connect. They’re so thoughtful in their music, their lyrics, the easter eggs tucked away for those who are paying attention. These are things that very specific audiences appreciate deeply. The whole experience makes me feel…seen.

And it’s not just the music. Their marketing is just as intentional.

Sleep Token’s marketing works because it’s not really marketing, it’s world-building. The mystery and anonymity draw you in, the layered lore keeps you curious, and the consistent, immersive aesthetic makes the experience feel bigger than the music itself. It’s not just something you listen to, it’s an atmosphere.

It’s about giving fans something to participate in, discover, and share. The audience plays an active part of the story.

That sense of connection, that feeling of being understood, is what all great design strives for. It’s the key difference between websites built by humans and websites churned out by AI.

AI website builders promise the dream of speed. Click a button and you have a site. Layouts, copy, and working code appear instantly. For experiments or placeholders, that might feel like magic. But “done fast” is not the same as “done right.”

Security Elephant in the Room

The trouble begins in the code. AI generates something that looks like it works, but often replicates insecure coding practices such as skipping input validation, fumbling authentication, or leaving error handling incomplete. That makes sites easy prey for attacks like SQL injection or cross-site scripting.

Researchers have already documented AI-built websites hijacked for phishing and malware. Consumers are paying attention too. A recent survey found that one in four Americans would stop using their favorite apps if they discovered AI code introduced vulnerabilities. Nearly seventy percent believe AI-written code carries unique risks. Trust is fragile, and once it is gone, it is gone.

Georgetown’s Center for Security and Emerging Technology went further, showing how AI often amplifies bad habits it has inherited from outdated code. Even worse, attackers can deliberately prompt AI to generate malicious scripts. What you save in speed today, you risk paying for in security debt tomorrow.

Where AI Falls Flat on Design

Even if the code were flawless, AI still misses the human side of design. It can replicate popular layouts but cannot empathize with someone navigating via a screen reader. It does not sense how whitespace gives a page room to breathe. Its copy often feels generic, sometimes even derivative. Website design itself is iterative, a conversation, not a one-shot prompt.

Human Designers Kick Ass, Change My Mind

Human designers bring intention. We bake security into the foundation. We design for accessibility because we want every person to feel included. We translate brand values and quirks into experiences that feel unmistakably yours. And we create websites with an eye on growth, not just a quick launch.

AI can be a helpful assistant. We use it for drafting snippets of code, suggesting alt text, or parsing data. But it is never the final word. Every output still needs human review. Think of AI as a tool, powerful yes, but one that only shines in the hands of someone skilled enough to know when to use it and when to put it down.

Which brings me back to Sleep Token. What made that concert unforgettable was not just the music. It was the mystery, the puzzles, the careful way they made the audience part of the story, everything that happened before and will happen after the concert. It was not about them, it was about us. That intention…I’ll never forget that.

Websites work the same way. They are not just about looking polished or ticking boxes. They are about creating moments where people recognize themselves in your story, where they feel connected and understood.

AI can generate a template, but it cannot weave empathy, nuance, or artistry into the experience. It cannot decide which easter egg to hide in your copy, or how to hold back the spotlight so the focus shines on your audience instead of you. Those choices come from humans, creative, thoughtful, sometimes a little messy, but always striving to make others feel something real.

If connecting with your audience is the goal, why trust something that can’t feel?