Why wouldn’t I just use AI for that? The unspoken side of this question is, “Why would I connect with a human for that?” This is an essential question for humanity. If AI is too triggering, you could substitute that with technology or machines. Either way, there’s a concerning trend that everyone is already talking about: more and more people prefer to interact with machines than humans. (A clear exception is customer service, which is worth celebrating.)
We believe the machines are easier to work with. They take less time. They are more objective, perhaps more competent as well. Overall, the lift is lighter, the process quicker, the output larger—i.e., it’s more efficient (on the surface at least). We believe efficiency is superior to inefficiency, so we default to the more efficient path, and we pooh-pooh the inefficient one. Down with the human option.
I worry about piling onto a loud and annoying conversation, albeit an important one, though I do feel compelled to address the question, “Why would I connect with a human for that?” Like the second child that I am, I will respond by asking additional questions:
When faced with a choice between using AI and connecting with a human, how often does choosing AI lead to a happy, meaningful, or memorable experience?
Is the meaning of life to move through it as efficiently as possible?
Does a preference for antisocial behavior concern you?
When you receive advice, guidance, or mentorship from a machine, do you feel inspired? If not, how do you feel?
Do you remember a conversation you had with AI yesterday? Do you remember a conversation you had with a person yesterday?
Reflecting on these questions, a few laws of nature stand out to me:
Humans have a basic need for connection with their fellow humans.
You cannot manufacture genuine happiness through artificial experiences.
If you consistently choose to avoid interactions with other people, you will become less skilled with human interaction and more prone to self-isolate.
There is no artificial substitute for the inspiration that comes from human connection. Inspiration is the energy that literally moves people.
Making every decision via artificial intelligence is akin to putting yourself on autopilot. Life on autopilot may be efficient, but it is also dull, numb, and careless.
If you don’t want to remember anything, automate or delegate your thinking.
I don’t think I’m being dramatic. I’m worried about what happens if we wake up in 10 years, like we have with social media, saying, “Shoot.” I’m concerned that my own kids won’t learn how to think critically, navigate messy relationships, or ask someone for help.
As an AI user myself, I’m not imploring you to cut off all communication with the machines. My standard is to be wary of the nuclear option, whatever end of the spectrum. I’m not full doom nor full hype.
With that said, I do encourage you not to take the bait when presented with the path of least resistance. If you are fortunate enough to take the stairs, your body will thank you for the time under tension, just as your mind will thank you for reading a book instead of its summary, and your soul will thank you for actual spiritual practice rather than soliciting your fortune from a chatbot.
There may soon be a generation of people who are trapped in a mindless cycle:
identify question → type prompt → view output → form conclusion → repeat
This loop can only lead to a life adrift, a self-imposed autopilot where the only connection between the numberless cruising vehicles is... I don’t really know what to call it besides a database. It’s too close to The Matrix for comfort.
I’ll speak for myself. I don’t want my daughter to go to a bot for advice before her parents. I don’t want my son to learn how to read from a computer. When asked a question, I don’t want to have a knee-jerk reaction of taking out my phone, typing said question, and then regurgitating the answer that anyone who asked the same question would get regardless of who they are and what makes them tick.
I want each moment to arise from a strong connection between people and a deep sense of reciprocity. You and I, a mutual exchange. Not an insatiable craving for what’s next.
So, why should you connect with a human on that thing that a machine could “answer” for you? Because, you already know, deep in your guts, that the real answer has a pulse. You can feel it. That authentic connection is the force that moves you.
The professional athlete and the firefighter and the social worker and the author all have one thing in common. They are doing what they do for the benefit of someone else. They are choosing the way of the heart.