Are We Ceding Humanity to Machines? Are We Ceding Humanity to Machines?
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Rachel Rossin, The Maw Of, 2022. Still from live simulation. Courtesy of the artist and The Whitney Museum of American Art
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Are We Ceding Humanity to Machines?

The Battle for Meaning as AI Outthinks Us
Natalie Monbiot
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In a recent podcast, I was asked to recommend a book, and, without hesitation, I thought of God, Human, Animal, Machine by Meghan O’Gieblyn—a profound exploration of what it means to be human in the age of AI.

It struck me deeply, but it wasn’t until I revisited it that I could fully articulate why. It touches on something I’ve been exploring for a while: the evolving relationship between humans and machines. As we integrate AI into our lives, we aren’t merely building tools—we’re entering a new phase of human evolution.

The title itself initially seemed like a strange blend of words, but, on reflection, it evokes a hierarchy we’ve long taken for granted. Gods, whether divine or created by us, have overseen human destiny for millennia. In turn, humans asserted supremacy over animals, convinced that only we possessed consciousness and higher thought. Machines entered later, performing labor once done by animals, neatly positioned at the lowest rung.

But today, with artificial intelligence surpassing human capabilities in benchmark after benchmark of higher cognition, this hierarchy is fracturing. What happens when machines no longer fit comfortably at the bottom? Can we still retain our place in this order, or are we being displaced by what we’ve created?

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It’s clear that AI will surpass human cognitive intelligence. Geoff Hinton, often called the “godfather of AI,” has been sounding this alarm for years. AI models are already outperforming us in domains once believed to be the essence of human intellect—language, reasoning, and problem-solving. But competing with machines on these terms misses the deeper issue. To view AI as a cognitive competitor is to misinterpret the stakes entirely. It undervalues what makes us human.

Throughout history, humans have used tools—fire; the wheel; machinery—not merely to survive but to transcend our natural limits. AI represents a leap in the same tradition, but this time it extends our cognitive boundaries. The question is not whether AI will outthink us, but how we can harness it to expand human potential.

What defines us as humans has never been raw intelligence. Yuval Noah Harari, in Sapiens, reminds us that humans thrived not because we were the smartest but because of our capacity to collaborate, to organize at scale, and to create shared myths. It is this ability to construct collective fictions—nations; money; human rights—that sets us apart.

This is where the Virtual Human Economy (VHE)—in which real people profit from putting their virtual selves to work—comes in. AI does more than offload cognitive tasks; it empowers individuals with superior intelligence, reshaping how we live and work. Emma, whose journey I describe in my TEDx talk, is a living example of this transformation. Her AI twin teaches languages she hasn’t learned and shares expertise with countless people at once. While these AI-driven Emmas handle tasks beyond her human capacity, the real Emma is freed to focus on her deeply human passions—her creativity, her dance, and her vision as an architect. The Virtual Human Economy enables Emma to leverage AI’s cognitive power to expand her influence while reclaiming her time to fully live out her most authentic, human pursuits. AI doesn’t replace Emma—it enhances her life, helping her reclaim time to explore what makes her most human.

Rachel Rossin, The Maw Of, 2022. Still from live simulation. Courtesy of the artist and The Whitney Museum of American Art

Every technological leap forces us to reconsider who we are. Descartes once compared animals to machines, claiming they lacked consciousness—a notion we now find absurd. Yet this desire to define ourselves against the unknown remains deeply human. In the 1940s, the computational theory of mind (CTM) reduced human thought to mere computation, treating the mind as nothing more than a machine. This metaphor has shaped not just our technology but our self-perception as well.

Metaphors, however, are double-edged. They help us understand the world, but, when taken too literally, they distort it. In God, Human, Animal, Machine, O’Gieblyn draws a striking parallel between taking Christ’s resurrection literally and taking the “mind as machine” metaphor too seriously. Both skew our understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

Today, as we face an identity crisis in the age of AI, it’s clear that the “mind as machine” metaphor has outlived its usefulness. To preserve what makes us human, we must move beyond it. We are not mere machines. Our essence lies in our ability to create meaning; to feel deeply; to pursue beauty and goodness.

Yet there’s a greater threat than AI itself: complacency. Chris Anderson, writing during the rise of big data, suggested that humans should stop trying to make sense of the world—that algorithms should take over, finding patterns where humans fall short. This mindset is dangerous. If we cede control to algorithms, we risk losing the very traits that make us human. Jaron Lanier has warned of an “anti-human” approach to computation, where people are reduced to mere data points, passive participants in a system run by machines.

Those who stop questioning, who stop creating meaning, will be the most vulnerable. The Virtual Human Economy demonstrates that AI can empower us, but only if we remain active participants in shaping its role. If we give in to complacency, we risk slipping into a New Dark Age—a time when knowledge was no longer sought but handed down by machines, a return to divine revelation rather than human understanding. The battle ahead isn’t against AI’s intelligence but against our own willingness to cede what makes us human.

What all of this tells us is that humans have always been evolving, and it’s our unique traits—our capacity for meaning-making; our emotional depth—that remain outside the realm of science or metaphor. AI is part of our evolution, but we must double down on our human instincts: to seek meaning, to pursue passions, and, ultimately, to take care of one another.

You can read more of Natalie Monbiot’s writing about AI and the virtual human economy on her blog the The Augmented Human.

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Sad Tropics Sad Tropics
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Sad Tropics

Wilhem Sasnal
In his recent, timely show Sad Tropics at Anton Kern, renowned Polish painter Wilhelm Sanal turns his cinematic gaze on his sojourn in Los Angeles. Named after Claude Lévi-Strauss’ anthropological travelogue Triste Tropique, it is a commentary on the contradictory nature of urban life in a natural paradise. From his bicycle vantage point, Sasnal has a unique perspective on the city—that of a temporary resident with the fresh eyes of a visitor. 
 
LA has always been a place for dreamers and misfits, which is fitting for an artist such as Sasnal. Amid the sprawl of freeways and strip malls characteristic of the American landscape, he finds the beauty in the banality. In his trademark reductive style, Sasnal paints trivial, everyday life—the scenes of contemporary reality. We see his daughter glued to her cellphone in spite of a beautiful sunset. Motion sensors, trash cans, and ocean rocks are all treated with his distinctive style of simple silhouettes and pared down, yet saturated tones. Bushes are rendered in his signature fluid brushstrokes. Paintings of signs feel like Xerox copies. Using his masterful technique, Sasnal paints not only the visible world of Los Angeles, but the psychological landscape of our time—one marked by uncertainty, contradiction, and an ever-shifting sense of place. 
 
Alongside his exhibition, his new feature film The Assistant will premiere at the International Film Festival Rotterdam. Made with his wife Anka Sasnal, it is an adaptation of the 1907 eponymous novel by Swiss writer Robert Walser. The story follows a man who takes a job as an assistant to an eccentric engineer inventor, and finds himself in a myriad of ever-changing roles. Despite his prolific nature, the engineer only manages to produce a series of bizarre and impractical inventions that drive him further into debt rather than bringing the fortune he desires. Though written in the early twentieth century, its themes of servitude, ambition, and connection resonate deeply with our current landscape, much like a Wilhelm Sasnal painting.
 
‘Sad Tropics’ runs through March 6, 2025 at Anton Kern Gallery in New York.
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