Last week OpenAI released Sora, a TikTok-style app that presents an endless feed of exclusively AI-generated videos, each up to 10 seconds long. The app allows you to create a “cameo” of yourself—a hyperrealistic avatar that mimics your appearance and voice—and insert other peoples’ cameos into your own videos (depending on what permissions they set). 

To some people who believed earnestly in OpenAI’s promise to build AI that benefits all of humanity, the app is a punchline. A former OpenAI researcher who left to build an AI-for-science startup referred to Sora as an “infinite AI tiktok slop machine.” 

That hasn’t stopped it from soaring to the top spot on Apple’s US App Store. After I downloaded the app, I quickly learned what types of videos are, at least currently, performing well: bodycam-style footage of police pulling over pets or various trademarked characters, including SpongeBob and Scooby Doo; deepfake memes of Martin Luther King Jr. talking about Xbox; and endless variations of Jesus Christ navigating our modern world. 

Just as quickly, I had a bunch of questions about what’s coming next for Sora. Here’s what I’ve learned so far.

Can it last?

OpenAI is betting that a sizable number of people will want to spend time on an app in which you can suspend your concerns about whether what you’re looking at is fake and indulge in a stream of raw AI. One reviewer put it this way: “It’s comforting because you know that everything you’re scrolling through isn’t real, where other platforms you sometimes have to guess if it’s real or fake. Here, there is no guessing, it’s all AI, all the time.”

This may sound like hell to some. But judging by Sora’s popularity, lots of people want it. 

So what’s drawing these people in? There are two explanations. One is that Sora is a flash-in-the-pan gimmick, with people lining up to gawk at what cutting-edge AI can create now (in my experience, this is interesting for about five minutes). The second, which OpenAI is betting on, is that we’re witnessing a genuine shift in what type of content can draw eyeballs, and that users will stay with Sora because it allows a level of fantastical creativity not possible in any other app. 

There are a few decisions down the pike that may shape how many people stick around: how OpenAI decides to implement ads, what limits it sets for copyrighted content (see below), and what algorithms it cooks up to decide who sees what. 

Can OpenAI afford it?

OpenAI is not profitable, but that’s not particularly strange given how Silicon Valley operates. What is peculiar, though, is that the company is investing in a platform for generating video, which is the most energy-intensive (and therefore expensive) form of AI we have. The energy it takes dwarfs the amount required to create images or answer text questions via ChatGPT.

This isn’t news to OpenAI, which has joined a half-trillion-dollar project to build data centers and new power plants. But Sora—which currently allows you to generate AI videos, for free, without limits—raises the stakes: How much will it cost the company? 

OpenAI is making moves toward monetizing things (you can now buy products directly through ChatGPT, for example). On October 3, its CEO, Sam Altman, wrote in a blog post that “we are going to have to somehow make money for video generation,” but he didn’t get into specifics. One can imagine personalized ads and more in-app purchases. 

Still, it’s concerning to imagine the mountain of emissions might result if Sora becomes popular. Altman has accurately described the emissions burden of one query to ChatGPT as impossibly small. What he has not quantified is what that figure is for a 10-second video generated by Sora. It’s only a matter of time until AI and climate researchers start demanding it. 

How many lawsuits are coming? 

Sora is awash in copyrighted and trademarked characters. It allows you to easily deepfake deceased celebrities. Its videos use copyrighted music. 

Last week, the Wall Street Journal reported that OpenAI has sent letters to copyright holders notifying them that they’ll have to opt out of the Sora platform if they don’t want their material included, which is not how these things usually work. The law on how AI companies should handle copyrighted material is far from settled, and it’d be reasonable to expect lawsuits challenging this. 

In last week’s blog post, Altman wrote that OpenAI is “hearing from a lot of rightsholders” who want more control over how their characters are used in Sora. He says that the company plans to give those parties more “granular control” over their characters. Still, “there may be some edge cases of generations that get through that shouldn’t,” he wrote.

But another issue is the ease with which you can use the cameos of real people. People can restrict who can use their cameo, but what limits will there be for what these cameos can be made to do in Sora videos? 

This is apparently already an issue OpenAI is being forced to respond to. The head of Sora, Bill Peebles, posted on October 5 that users can now restrict how their cameo can be used—preventing it from appearing in political videos or saying certain words, for example. How well will this work? Is it only a matter of time until someone’s cameo is used for something nefarious, explicit, illegal, or at least creepy, sparking a lawsuit alleging that OpenAI is responsible? 

Overall, we haven’t seen what full-scale Sora looks like yet (OpenAI is still doling out access to the app via invite codes). When we do, I think it will serve as a grim test: Can AI create videos so fine-tuned for endless engagement that they’ll outcompete “real” videos for our attention? In the end, Sora isn’t just testing OpenAI’s technology—it’s testing us, and how much of our reality we’re willing to trade for an infinite scroll of simulation.