This past summer, I found myself navigating in congested traffic on the scorching streets of Marseille. At a crossing, my companion in the front seat suggested a right turn toward a renowned spot for bouillabaisse. However, the digital guide on my phone instructed us to continue straight. Fatigued and in a stifling car, I heeded the app's directive. Moments later, we were stranded at a construction site.
A minor event, perhaps. But one that captures a central question of our time, where digital tools touches almost every aspect of existence: whom do we trust to a greater degree – other people and our own intuition, or the machine?
The influential German philosopher Immanuel Kant once defined the Enlightenment as "man's release from its self-imposed nonage." This immaturity, he argued, "is the incapacity to use one's personal reason without guidance from another." For centuries, that directing force for human thought was frequently the priest, the king, or the landowner – entities purporting to channel divine will. To explain natural events like volcanic eruptions, people looked for explanations in religion. In organizing the fabric of society, from commerce to matters of the heart, faith acted as the main compass.
“Sapere aude!” or “Have courage to use your reason!”
Kant argued that humans had the ability to think rationally. They simply lacked the boldness to employ it. With revolutions in America and France, a new dawn emerged: logic would supplant blind faith, and the human mind, liberated from dogma, would become the driver of advancement and a better world.
Today, 250 years later, one might question if we are slipping back into a form of dependency. An app dictating a driving route is merely the start. AI risks becoming our new "other" – a silent guide that steers our decisions and actions. We are in danger of ceding the historically earned courage to reason for ourselves – and now, not to gods or kings, but to computer programs.
ChatGPT was launched a mere three years ago, and yet a global survey indicated that an overwhelming majority of respondents had engaged with artificial intelligence in the previous six months. Whether deciding on ending a relationship or selecting a vote, individuals are looking to machines for counsel. Data suggests a large majority of user queries concern personal life matters. Even more intriguing than our reliance on AI for advice is what occurs when we let it speak for us. Composition is now among the most common uses for tools like ChatGPT, second only to everyday tasks. The late American author Joan Didion famously said, “I write purely to discover what I am thinking.” What transpires when we stop composing? Do we cease discovering?
Alarmingly, emerging research hints the outcome may be yes. A study conducted by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology used electroencephalography to observe the mental engagement of essay writers who had access to AI, traditional search engines, or nothing. Those who could use AI showed the least brain activity and had trouble accurately recalling their own work. Maybe most concerning was that after a few months, participants in the AI group became increasingly reliant, pasting large sections of text.
“Inertia and fear,” Kant wrote, “are the reasons why so great a proportion of men … remain in perpetual nonage.”
Certainly, AI's appeal lies in its convenience. It saves time, reduces effort and – importantly – offers a new method to abdicate responsibility. In his 1941 book, Escape from Freedom, the German psychoanalyst Erich Fromm argued that the rise of fascism could be understood by a preference to surrender personal freedom in exchange for the reassuring certainty of obedience. AI offers a digital method of relinquishing the weight of having to think and choose.
AI's greatest allure is its capacity to perform tasks beyond our minds – analyzing oceans of data at lightning pace. Sitting in the car in Marseille, this was, after all, why I chose to believe the machine over my friend (a choice she interpreted as an insult). With access to all the data, surely the app had superior insight – or so I thought.
The fundamental problem is that AI is a opaque system. It generates answers, but without necessarily fostering human comprehension. We cannot fully grasp how AI reaches its decisions – even its programmers acknowledge the opacity. Nor can we check its reasoning against clear, objective criteria. So when we follow AI's advice, we are not being guided by reason. We are back in the domain of faith. In dubio pro machina: when in doubt, side with the machine – that could be our future guiding principle.
AI can be a formidable ally for humanity in scientific pursuit. It can aid in medical research, free us from "bullshit jobs", or handle taxes – work that are repetitive and offer little satisfaction. This is beneficial. But Kant and his peers did not champion reason over faith just so humans could optimize chores or have extra free time. Independent thought was not merely about productivity – it was a practice of liberty and human self-determination.
Human thought is inherently messy and error-prone, but it compels us to debate, to doubt, to challenge concepts – and to recognize the boundaries of our own knowledge. It fosters self-reliance, both individually and collectively. For Kant, the exercise of reason was never solely about acquiring knowledge; it was about empowering people to become agents of their own destinies, and to resist domination. It was about creating a ethical society grounded in the common foundation of rational discourse, rather than unquestioning acceptance.
With all the advantages AI offers, the paramount challenge remains: how can we leverage its promise of advanced capability without eroding human reasoning, the cornerstone of the Enlightenment and of liberal democracy itself? That may be one of the central dilemmas of our time. It is a question we must strive not to outsource to the machine.
A professional gambler with over 15 years of experience in casino gaming, specializing in slot machine analytics and strategy development.