Our New Sovereign, Our Digital Priest, Our Algorithmic Overlord – The Way AI Returns Us to the Medieval Era.
This past summer, I found myself navigating in gridlocked traffic on the scorching streets of a southern French city. At an intersection, my friend in the front seat advised a right turn toward a famous spot for fish soup. However, the digital guide on my phone commanded us to continue straight. Fatigued and in a stifling car, I followed the algorithm's advice. Moments later, we were stuck at a construction site.
A seemingly trivial event, maybe. But one that captures a defining dilemma of our era, where digital tools permeates almost every aspect of our lives: whom do we trust more – fellow humans and our personal instincts, or the algorithm?
A Call for Intellectual Maturity and A Contemporary Backslide
The renowned German philosopher Immanuel Kant famously described the Enlightenment as "humanity's emergence from its self-inflicted nonage." This state, he wrote, "is the incapacity to use one's own understanding without direction from another." For centuries, that directing force for human thought was often the priest, the king, or the feudal lord – entities claiming to speak for God's voice. To comprehend phenomena like volcanic eruptions, people sought answers in religion. In organizing the fabric of society, from economics to love, faith served as the primary guide.
“Sapere aude!” or “Dare to use your own understanding!”
Kant maintained that humans always possessed the capacity for reason. They simply lacked the confidence to employ it. With revolutions in America and France, a new dawn arrived: logic would supplant blind faith, and the human mind, freed from authority, would become the engine of advancement and a more ethical world.
Now, two and a half centuries later, one might question if we are quietly regressing into a state of dependency. An app suggesting a driving route is just one example. AI risks becoming our contemporary authority – a unseen guide that influences our choices and actions. We risk relinquishing the historically earned autonomy to think independently – and now, not to deities or rulers, but to lines of code.
The Swift Adoption and Hidden Risks of Algorithmic Reliance
ChatGPT debuted a mere three years ago, and already a global survey indicated that an overwhelming majority of people had engaged with artificial intelligence in the preceding half-year. Whether contemplating ending a relationship or choosing a candidate, individuals are increasingly turning to algorithms for counsel. Data suggests a large majority of user prompts relate to personal life matters. Even more striking than our use of AI for advice is what occurs when we allow it express for us. Writing is now among the most common uses for tools like ChatGPT, second only to practical requests. The celebrated American author Joan Didion famously said, “I write entirely to discover what I am thinking.” What occurs when we cease writing? Do we lose that path?
Alarmingly, emerging research suggests the answer may be affirmative. A study conducted by the Massachusetts Institute of Technology used brain monitoring to observe the mental engagement of essay writers who had access to AI, Google, or nothing. Those who could use AI displayed the least brain activity and had difficulty accurately recalling their own work. Maybe most concerning was that over time, participants in the AI group became increasingly reliant, pasting large sections of text.
“Inertia and fear,” Kant wrote, “are the reasons why so many of men … remain in lifelong immaturity.”
Certainly, AI's appeal lies in its convenience. It is fast, reduces effort and – importantly – offers a new method to offload accountability. In his 1941 book, Escape from Freedom, the German psychoanalyst Erich Fromm proposed that the appeal of authoritarianism could be partly explained by a preference to give up autonomy in for the sake of the comforting security of obedience. AI presents a modern avenue for surrendering the weight of having to decide for oneself.
The Black Box Problem: Trust Without Understanding
AI's greatest allure is its capacity to perform tasks beyond our minds – analyzing vast datasets at unprecedented speed. Stuck in the car in Marseille, this was, after all, why I chose to believe the app over my companion (a decision she took as an affront). With access to real-time information, surely the app had superior insight – or so I believed.
The fundamental problem is that AI is a black box. It produces knowledge, but not always fostering human understanding. We do not truly know the process behind its conclusions – including its programmers acknowledge the opacity. Nor can we check its logic against clear, objective criteria. So when we heed AI's recommendation, we are not being guided by reason. We are returning to the realm of faith. In dubio pro machina: when in doubt, trust the machine – that could be our 21st-century guiding principle.
Harnessing Without Eroding: The Critical Balance
AI can be a powerful tool for mankind in scientific pursuit. It can help medical research, free us from tedious tasks, or manage taxes – work that demand little thought and offer little satisfaction. This is beneficial. But Kant and his contemporaries did not champion enlightenment just so humans could optimize chores or have extra free time. Critical thinking was not merely about productivity – it was a practice of freedom and human self-determination.
Human thought is inherently messy and fallible, but it compels us to debate, to doubt, to challenge concepts – and to recognize the limits of our own knowledge. It fosters self-reliance, both personally and as a society. For Kant, the use of reason was never only about information; it was about enabling people to become agents of their own destinies, and to resist domination. It was about building a moral community grounded in the common foundation of reason and debate, rather than unquestioning acceptance.
With all the advantages AI brings, the key question remains: how can we leverage its potential of superhuman intelligence without undermining human reasoning, the bedrock 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 algorithm.