AI and the Human Condition
Finding perspective on technological change through timeless wisdom traditions.
When people ask how I feel about AI's impact in the coming years, I often reply that I'm both excited and terrified in equal measure. I'm excited about the incredible potential, but equally terrified by the implications of what might go wrong. (AI 2027 is a great long read on this).
Deep down, I realise my attitude toward AI mirrors my attitude toward life itself. On the one hand, life is exciting in countless ways, and I'd rather be alive than not. On the other hand, it inevitably ends in death and involves considerable suffering along the way. This remains true even for those of us fortunate enough to live in peaceful societies rather than war zones.
What our fears about AI reveal about us
Some of my friends are terrified of what AI might mean for them and their children. They aren't crazy preppers with tinfoil hats stockpiling sardines and toilet paper. Quite the contrary — many are highly educated and experienced, which is precisely why they can see around the corner.
Others are excited about the opportunities, building donkeycorns and hoping never to manage messy human teams again. I can sense the excitement myself; it's genuine. It's never been a better time to be an entrepreneur.
Perhaps our attitudes toward AI reveal our deeper attitudes toward life. We like to think we have a general idea of where our lives are heading; it's just the details we can't predict. We say we know life is unpredictable, but we don't truly believe it until something significant — a health crisis or death in the family — shocks us back to this fundamental truth.
What if our feelings about AI impact reveal our deep-seated attitudes toward life? Some future AI scenarios are comparable to living through a war or other major historical event. That sounds horrible, but then wars have been the historical norm, not the exception.
I wonder if our fears of AI reveal our belief that our society is somehow entitled to peaceful existence and increasing prosperity. We are entitled to neither — not as a society, civilization, nor as individuals. If AI progress makes life better for everyone in the coming years, I'll be the first to express deep gratitude for living during such amazing times. But that would be a miracle, not something we have any reason to feel entitled to.
Another assumption our feelings toward AI might reveal is that our individual experience mirrors societal experience. To some degree, this is true. Anyone would prefer living in a peaceful, prosperous society over a war zone or during a major disaster.
Yet our individual experiences also remain somewhat disconnected from the broader society. Some people find meaning and purpose when everything around them is falling apart — perhaps even during wartime. Others are miserable despite living objectively good lives in societies that rank highly on happiness indexes.
So perhaps it's helpful to remember that AI's societal impact in the coming years might not dictate our individual experiences. Some of us will thrive and feel fulfilled, while others will struggle mightily—regardless of AI's broader impact.
Ancient wisdom traditions
The deeper I think about AI and its likely effects on every facet of our lives, the more I appreciate the continued relevance of ancient wisdom traditions. Stoicism teaches us to view every challenge as a test meant to probe and strengthen our character.
Buddhism reminds us that all life is interconnected—not just clouds and flowers, but also AI algorithms that recognise cats in images and children's hospitals destroyed by autonomous drones. It also reminds us that life — our precious, individual life — is uncertain and unpredictable. We never know if we'll see another day, and eventually, that will be true — whatever AI's impact.
Christianity and Islam remind us to trust in a power greater than ourselves, even when we don't understand its workings, while also loving our neighbours. This teaching might prove handy if AI's impact turns out to be largely negative.
A case for optimism
As an individual, I don't take predictions about AI's future impact lightly. I'm not convinced the worst scenarios will necessarily materialise, but I do believe there's potential for significant negative consequences—ranging from something mild, comparable to the Soviet Union's collapse (for those who lived through it), to something far more severe.
However, I would still choose to face whatever AI brings in the years to come rather than live through World War I or II, the Black Death, the Taiping Rebellion, or even the relatively benign Soviet collapse. If you feel the same, perhaps that's reason enough to remain optimistic about the future, despite having ample cause to take AI impact forecasts very seriously.