On being human in an AI-informed world?
On the coming of an AI-informed world, and the embodied realities of being human.
I’ve been a little absent from this space lately, and there are a few reasons for that. I have a draft of an article called “The Consistency Cult is Ableist and Harmful” sitting in my queue. I realized it sounded and felt more like a screed than a helpful piece. So I put it aside for some air and space that always helps the writing “mature” before it is released. So you might eventually get that one. Hopefully that mulling over period will give it more depth.
With the onset of ChapGPT as a tool that about half of professionals are starting to use an experiment with, and the likely changes coming over the next 5-20 years in the workforce as a result, I’ve found myself asking what truly makes us human.
I realize this is a philosophical question that people have been grappling with for millennia now. However, I’m almost happy to see the crumbling of the Descartes’ notion that “I think, therefore I am.” Now that artificial intelligence (AI) can “think” for us, we must truly set that aside as the distinguishing difference.
Eve Ensler had revised that to say, “I feel, therefore I am.” I like that much better, though it doesn’t separate us from our pets, who definitely “feel” though maybe in a different way than we do. They don’t name their feelings like we do, but when my cat Calvin curls up on my lap and purrs, I sense something that feels like love, or at least affection.
So maybe we can now say that being human is to be able to love, but to also name that love. We can distinguish different kinds of love, from partner feelings, erotic ones, to friendship love, to maybe the love we have for our favorite book.
Animals can likely feel something like love, or deep connection for their kin. Otherwise, many species would not have survived. But the distinction in humans goes beyond kin. We can feel love not only for our partners, but for humankind in general. We can love (or at least feel affection for) our teams, our communities, and maybe our nations.
We can feel love and affection for the natural world in a way that perhaps animals also experience. But we can also transform that love into poetry, beautiful art, and representations that capture that moment and make it permanent.
We also feel grief, which to me is proof we have loved. While many stoicists like to promote a sense of never feeling too good, or too bad, but keeping ourselves in equanimity, I see that as a mistake. (I also think it’s ableist, racist and sexist to promote this as a philosophy, but that’s definitely a screed for another day).
When we are aware of loss, we typically must grieve. As I begin a process of Spring cleaning in my home, and my annual “declutter” process, I took all of the books of my shelf to start. Some will remain of course, and will be citeed in future books I plan to write. And some will be sent along to their next owners, through donation and culling.
As a person who reads probably 30-60 books per year on average, I simply cannot keep all the ones I acquire. Or I could, but then I’d feel like I were hoarding, and I’d need a LOT more bookshelves. I prefer to let some circulate, and keep the ones that I’ll either lend, or reference in my work. Some fiction delights me to read again every few years, and those will also stay.
During my annual process of letting go, I realize I’ve had to introduce some rituals for this, because the loss of a beloved book brings on grief for me. For some, this feels silly. It’s just a book, and I could easily acquire it again. It’s not just a book though. It’s a companion with whom I’ve spent enjoyable time. I have learned, laughed, sometimes cried, usually underlined, and often dog-earned.
I love books differently than I love people. Obviously people (and my pets) are beloved in a way that the grief upon loss is deep and lasting. It takes much longer to process the loss of a loved one than it does to process the loss of a donated book. I’m passing on the “spirit” of the book, after all. And I can imagine it has a second life with its new owner, which always helps me let go.
With people, it is the memory of our loved one that can allow us to refresh that feeling of love and affection. I think a lot of Grandma Annie when I pass along books that I’ve loved. She was a daily reader like I am. She loved murder mysteries, and I sometimes wonder if they balanced out her devotion to the bible and her reading of spiritual books.
When my grandmother passed away over nine years ago now, she was 101. This is remarkable, and it makes me so curious about that timeframe. I’m approaching my 49th birthday (in June) and I find myself marveling at changes during my lifetime. While I wonder if I’ll be fortunate enough to see another 50 years, I also worry about things like climate change and social unrest.
I wonder if human love for the planet, and for our communities will evolve in ways that are less self-centered than our current world. While there’s nothing wrong with having love for your family and your kin, sometimes that can lead to bias, protective behavior, and resource hoarding that’s not healthy.
As a Mexican-American woman, I’ve very aware of my other grandma also. She passed away in her early 50’s, when I was only five years old. Occasionally I grieve for the time we didn’t have together. But I also call upon her wisdom now and then. My friend Patrick recently reminded me that Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrated on November 1st involves a celebration of those who have departed. It can be humorous and theatrical, and it “calls back” those spirits who have left, but are not forgotten.
Ofrendas show how our loved ones are still with us, and that they are loved, not forgotten. While AI will likely be able to catalog and categorize our online activities with ever more speed and nuance, it cannot love what it produces. While it can probably be trained to reassure us, and maybe even to provide human-like support for those that are lonely, I will opt for messy analog humans in the long-term.
In a world where speed is becoming the norm, I will love the long, meandering conversations with my friends while we are near a lake, or on a hike. I will outsource some of my work to the AI. I will delight in the fact that I might be able to spend less time in front of a screen, which will spare my body repetitive stress issues. And I will always remember that while I can love books, and maybe someday love AI for its capabilities, I will remember that only humans (and maybe pets) can love me back.
I will remember that however messy and complicated, humans contain a spirit presence that AI can never replace. And I hope I’ll be able to value them all the more if I can give them more time because repetitive and boring tasks might be outsourced. I will try to give these humans my full presence, my attention, and my focus (when my body allows for it). It is not what we can DO that makes us valuable, it is who we ARE that matters.
To me, this is what artificial intelligence highlights for me, our divine human worth not as “doers” but in our very being and essence. Much as programmers might try, that cannot be outsourced.
Much love,
Cristy