In the last few weeks, the world has been significantly disrupted.
AI is no longer just an efficient assistant; it is evolving into something larger, something unpredictable. OpenAI’s latest models can now see, hear, and understand in ways that were unimaginable just months ago. AI is autonomously coding, negotiating, and replacing white-collar work at an alarming rate. The CEO of Anthropic, a leading AI startup, says AI could surpass all human intelligence as early as next year.
The world watches, obsessed with every breakthrough, every existential warning.
Even as that conversation occupies centre stage in every key meeting I am in, I want to debate the very core of intelligence itself.
And so, I turn to three men. Three thinkers from different times, different traditions—each grappling with the meaning and consequences of progress in their own unique way.
Keynes: The Future Was Supposed to Be Leisure
The first man I turn to is John Maynard Keynes, the towering economist of the 20th century. He lived through the economic catastrophes of the Great Depression and yet remained a believer in progress, in the power of human ingenuity to create a better world.
In 1930, he wrote Economic Possibilities for Our Grandchildren, predicting that within a hundred years, society would be so economically prosperous that work would barely be necessary. We would be “eight times better off”, he claimed, and technology would free us from toil, reducing the workweek to just fifteen hours.
The problem of scarcity would be solved. The real challenge, he believed, would be finding meaning in our free time.
But here we are, nearly a century later, and the world did not unfold the way Keynes imagined.
Technology advanced, but instead of cutting work, we invented new tasks, more meetings, more distractions. Wealth multiplied, but so did inequality. Productivity soared, but instead of giving us time, it trapped us in cycles of busyness. Keynes’ utopia never arrived—not because he was wrong about technology, but because he underestimated human nature.
Free time hasn’t led to deep contemplation. It has led to scrolling, binge-watching, and productivity hacks designed to squeeze more out of every moment.
Keynes thought technology would serve humans. Instead, we have let it consume us.
Kurzweil: The Future Is Not Leisure—It’s Singularity
If Keynes saw a utopia of leisure, Ray Kurzweil sees a utopia of transcendence.
Born in 1948, Kurzweil is a futurist, an engineer, and a relentless optimist about human potential. He doesn’t just predict technological progress; he predicts human evolution itself.
By 2045, he says, AI will surpass human intelligence and become self-improving. This is Singularity—a moment when technology will not just assist us but merge with us, rewriting biology, extending life indefinitely, and fundamentally altering what it means to be human.
Keynes believed technology would give us time. Kurzweil believes technology will make time irrelevant. Work, disease, even death—all of it will be optional. Intelligence will no longer belong only to humans.
For Kurzweil, this is not a crisis; it is an inevitability. Why stop at being human when we can be something more?
Baudrillard: The Future Is Neither Work Nor Singularity—It’s Illusion
I turn to the third man because the first saw utopia in abundance, and the second saw utopia in transcendence. But the third offers the real question we must grapple with.
Jean Baudrillard, the French philosopher born in 1929, was neither an economist nor an engineer. He was a critic—of modernity, of technology, of the illusions we build around ourselves. If Keynes imagined a world freed by technology, and Kurzweil imagined a world consumed by it, Baudrillard questioned whether we were ever in control to begin with.
His warning is stark:
“If men create intelligent machines, or fantasise about them, it is either because they secretly despair of their own intelligence or because they are in danger of succumbing to the weight of a monstrous and useless intelligence.”
Baudrillard did not fear that machines would surpass us. In “The Transparency of Evil and Simulacra and Simulation”, Baudrillard argued that modern society replaced reality with simulations.
He feared that we would surrender first—trading the effort of thinking for the ease of automation, mistaking the appearance of intelligence for intelligence itself.
And perhaps, he was right.
AI now composes music, writes stories, and solves problems. It thinks, creates, and predicts. The machines are not waiting for permission; they are advancing relentlessly.
So, what do we do?
How Do We Stay Human in the Age of AI?
Do we let AI think for us—filter what we read, decide what we believe, and create what we consume? Or do we stay actively human—choosing to think, struggle, and create for ourselves? We can let AI make life effortless until we fade into the background.
Or we can use it as a tool while holding on to what makes us human—curiosity, creativity, and real-world presence. The choice is ours. But we must make it now.
1. Create, Don’t Just Consume.
AI can compose music, paint, write stories, and generate ideas. But creativity isn’t just about the final product—it’s about the experience of making something.
A friend of mine recently took up piano lessons. Not to become a musician, not to perform, but simply to learn something new with her own hands. AI can compose flawless symphonies, but it doesn’t feel the hesitation before striking a key. It doesn’t experience frustration or the thrill of finally getting something right. And when she started teaming up with her daughter, I got inspired.
Every day, my daughter and I play Bracket City, an online word puzzle. AI could solve it for us in seconds, but we have a pact—we must figure it out on our own. Some days, we breeze through it. Some days, we struggle. But that’s the joy: the thinking, the guessing, the tiny wins.
This is what AI cannot replicate. The desire to create, not because it is efficient or profitable, but because it is deeply human.
2. Think Deeply, Don’t Just Skim.
AI gives us quick summaries, digestible insights, and instant answers. It makes thinking optional.
But thought is a muscle—neglect it, and it weakens.
The most valuable ideas don’t come from speed. They come from sitting with complexity, wrestling with contradictions, and resisting the urge for easy conclusions.
I know thinkers and writers who won’t let AI draft their work—not because AI isn’t capable, but because the struggle of shaping an idea sharpens their thinking. AI might be able to write for us, but if we don’t engage in the process, we lose something far greater—our ability to think for ourselves.
It’s not just about work. It’s about how we make sense of the world. Reading a book, debating a concept, allowing thoughts to evolve over time—these are essential human experiences. AI might be faster. But if we let it think for us, we become intellectually poorer.
3. Listen. Really Listen.
AI can generate conversations. It can predict what we want to hear. But it does not listen.
Real listening is an act of presence. It’s not just processing words—it’s sensing hesitation, understanding pauses, recognising what’s left unsaid.
A friend once thanked me repeatedly after a conversation. I hadn’t given any advice. I had just listened. Days later, he told me, "That’s all I needed."
AI can mimic human interaction. But it cannot make people feel seen, understood, and valued.
And that is what real connection is built on.
The Real Opportunity
As AI takes on more human qualities—thinking, writing, creating, even conversing—humans have a rare chance to shed their own machine-like tendencies.
For years, we have optimised ourselves for efficiency—chasing productivity, structuring every moment, treating life as a series of tasks to complete. But if AI can handle the transactional, the repetitive, the predictable, then perhaps our role is not to compete with it, but to reclaim what makes us truly human.
The real choice is arriving.
Do we resist AI and hold on to outdated definitions of work, or do we embrace the freedom to think deeper, create meaningfully, and connect with greater presence?
Maybe, instead of making us obsolete, AI is handing us back the space to start living all over again.
