Our King, Our Priest, Our Feudal Lord – The Way AI Returns Us to the Medieval Era.
This past summer, I was caught in gridlocked traffic on the sweltering streets of a southern French city. At a crossing, my companion in the front seat suggested a right turn toward a renowned spot for fish soup. Yet, the digital guide on my phone commanded us to go forward. Fatigued and in a stifling car, I followed the app's directive. Minutes later, we were stranded at a roadwork site.
A seemingly trivial incident, maybe. But one that captures a central question of our era, where digital tools touches nearly every facet of our lives: who gets our trust to a greater degree – other people and our own intuition, or the algorithm?
A Call for Intellectual Maturity and Our Modern Relapse
The renowned German philosopher Immanuel Kant once defined the Enlightenment as "man's release from its self-inflicted nonage." This immaturity, he wrote, "represents the incapacity to use one's personal reason without direction from another." For ages, that directing force for society was often the clergyman, the king, or the landowner – figures purporting to channel God's voice. To comprehend phenomena like volcanic eruptions, people looked for explanations in theology. In organizing the social world, from economics to matters of the heart, faith served as the primary guide.
“Sapere aude!” or “Have courage to use your reason!”
Kant maintained that humans had the capacity for reason. They simply lacked the confidence to employ it. With revolutions in the 18th century, a fresh era arrived: logic would replace blind faith, and the human mind, freed from dogma, would become the engine of advancement and a better world.
Now, 250 years later, one might wonder if we are quietly regressing into a form of intellectual immaturity. An app dictating a direction is just one example. Artificial intelligence threatens to become our contemporary authority – a unseen guide that influences our decisions and actions. We risk relinquishing the hard-won courage to reason for ourselves – and now, not to gods or kings, but to computer programs.
The Swift Adoption and Subtle Dangers of AI Dependence
ChatGPT was launched only in 2022, and yet a global survey indicated that an overwhelming majority of respondents had used AI in the previous six months. Whether deciding on a breakup or choosing a candidate, individuals are increasingly turning to algorithms for counsel. Research suggests a large majority of user prompts relate to non-work topics. Even more striking than our reliance on AI for judgment is what occurs when we allow it speak for us. Composition is now one of the most common uses for generative AI, second only to everyday tasks. The celebrated American author Joan Didion once remarked, “I write entirely to find out what I am thinking.” What occurs when we cease writing? Do we lose that path?
Worryingly, some evidence hints the outcome may be yes. A study from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology used electroencephalography to observe the cognitive activity of participants who had access to AI, Google, or no aids. Those who could rely on AI showed the lowest cognitive engagement and had difficulty quoting their own work. Maybe most concerning was that after a few months, individuals in the AI group grew progressively lazier, pasting entire blocks of text.
“Inertia and fear,” Kant wrote, “are the reasons why so many of men … stay in lifelong immaturity.”
Of course, AI's attraction lies in its convenience. It saves time, minimizes work and – critically – offers a novel way to abdicate responsibility. In his 1941 book, Escape from Freedom, the German psychoanalyst Erich Fromm argued that the appeal of authoritarianism could be partly explained by a human tendency to surrender personal freedom in for the sake of the reassuring certainty of subordination. AI offers a digital avenue for surrendering the weight of having to decide for oneself.
The Black Box Problem: Trust Without Understanding
AI's primary draw is its ability to accomplish things beyond human capability – sifting through vast datasets at lightning pace. Stuck in the car in Marseille, this was, after all, why I opted to trust the machine over my friend (a decision she interpreted as an insult). With knowledge of real-time information, certainly the app had superior insight – or so I believed.
The fundamental problem is that AI is a opaque system. It produces knowledge, but not always deepening human understanding. We cannot fully grasp the process behind its conclusions – including its creators admit this. Nor can we verify its logic against transparent standards. So when we follow AI's advice, 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 may become our future guiding principle.
Using Without Losing: The Critical Balance
AI can be a formidable ally for mankind in rational inquiry. It can aid in inventing drugs, liberate us from "bullshit jobs", or handle administrative chores – work that demand little thought and are unfulfilling. All to the good. But Kant and his peers did not champion reason over faith just so humans could optimize chores or have more leisure. Critical thinking was not merely about efficiency – it was a discipline of liberty and human emancipation.
Human thought is inherently messy and error-prone, but it compels us to argue, to doubt, to test ideas – and to recognize the limits of our own knowledge. It fosters self-reliance, both personally and collectively. For Kant, the use of reason was never only about information; it was about empowering people to become authors of their own lives, and to resist control. It was about creating a moral community based on the common foundation of reason and debate, rather than unquestioning acceptance.
With all the undeniable benefits AI offers, the key question remains: how can we leverage its promise of advanced capability without undermining human reasoning, the cornerstone of the Enlightenment and of liberal democracy themselves? That is likely one of the defining questions of our century. It is a question we must strive not to delegate to the algorithm.