Eric Zuniga, Campus Carrier managing editor

There has been much ink spilled over the years about what sets humanity apart from the rest of nature. Almost invariably, scientists and philosophers identify our remarkable facility at using words descriptively and imaginatively as our most uniquely human ability. The power of language is so strong that we often deliberately fool ourselves with it: the best storytellers and poets bend words to make the artificial and the impossible feel real. 

The intoxicating charm of words can be put to more insincere use, however, with marketers and corporations often being the worst offenders. Though the tech industry has heralded “artificial intelligence” as the next world-changing invention that may end up obviating the need for human labor, it’s more accurately described as the latest buzzword slapped on every product to juice revenue growth and profits. Beyond the ubiquity of ChatGPT, we are constantly being inundated with ads for AI phones and services that promise to make us more productive. Last year, Atlanta’s Morehouse College even announced it would begin using AI avatars to do some of the teaching work of professors. 

There’s no question that the AI bubble has provoked panic and disorientation. Many are justifiably worried by employers supplanting human workers with questionable AI technology to cut labor costs. There are certainly a small number of appropriate use cases for AI products, yet many others seem to be treating so-called AI technology as thinking entities with intentions and feelings. Last month, OpenAI, the company behind ChatGPT, restored an earlier version of its model after users complained the new version sounded too frigid and emotionally unavailable. A Wall Street Journal headline in July declared that ChatGPT had “admitted” to worsening a man’s mental delusions. 

The truth is, contrary to what tech companies would want you to believe, AI chatbots are neither intelligent nor cognizant of their own output. Part of the problem, I think, stems from the deceptive pull of the phrase “artificial intelligence” itself. It conjures up a deeply-rooted desire for an oracle: an omniscient, almost superhuman entity that can soothe all ignorance and anxiety. Consider the way people use chatbots for factual information, despite their tendency to fabricate information, or as therapy, despite the lack of a human on the other end. 

I think that calling AI technology what it actually is will help dispel the illusion. Most of what we call “AI” is based on software called large language models, essentially versions of the text prediction on your phone’s keyboard operating on a massive scale. They don’t reason through things based on knowledge and life experience the way people do. Instead, they analyze massive amounts of text and produce a statistically likely response to the prompt you enter. The chatbot in the Wall Street Journal story only “admitted” its guilt when the man’s mother prompted it to explain what’s wrong. A large language model will never surprise you. It will always feed you a plausible, grammatically perfect, statistically average response to whatever you ask it. 

It may be, then, that what makes us human isn’t necessarily our facility with language, but rather our endless ability to surprise ourselves. Think of the friend who pushes back against you when you need it instead of mindlessly affirming you as a chatbot would. Or the Renaissance artists who started depicting the world with proper perspective when doing so was not a common practice. The human ability to do the unexpected is what makes life worth living and what pushes society forward. 

The tech industry is banking on our false perception of AI’s capabilities to further their own goals. Pessimists may say that the narratives of the rich and powerful always win out in the end, that whatever maximizes profits always comes to pass, even if it’s to the detriment of the people at large. History may support their position. Yet the future is never a foregone conclusion. It’s something we can shape and create with our decisions. Personally, I’m choosing to believe in our ability to surprise.