Man and Machine

Dear Crew,

Lately, I've been hearing the same phrase over and over again—in podcasts, in commercials, and in conversations about artificial intelligence:

“AI doesn’t replace people.”

And every time I think: Yeah. So what?

After all, no one needs to mistake a machine for a human to recognize that machines have long been doing things that we used to need people to do.

I use a washing machine and don't miss the human connection with the person who could have washed my underwear by hand. I use Google Maps and don't wish there were someone at every intersection to give me directions.

And now I use AI for things that I might have needed an assistant, research, or an agency to handle in the past. This isn't some vision of the future. It's already happening.

As I write this, I'm sitting on a train headed for the mountains.

A little while ago, a young woman in a black blazer was sitting next to me, engrossed in her cell phone. She was working with various AI systems. My own screen didn’t look much different. I was researching scientific principles and organizing my thoughts.

On the outside, we looked quite different. She was wearing a black blazer; I was in hiking clothes. But somehow, the vibe was the same: two people on the go, using machines to think, research, and work.

Later, I had to transfer in Kufstein. You couldn't pay with a card at the station, so I walked into town. At the supermarket, I saw a boy who looked about thirteen pouring hot water into a cup of instant noodles. He even had chopsticks.

I asked him where he'd gotten them. Five minutes later, I was sitting in the sun with my own bowl of noodle soup, chopsticks, and Austrian cookies.

AI helped me sort things out that day. And a 13-year-old boy taught me an easy way to get a bowl of hot noodle soup at the supermarket.

Both were useful. Neither needs to replace the other.

Maybe that's why the growing contrast between humans and machines bothers me. As if we had to choose. For the real. Against the artificial. For humans. Against AI.

But that's not how our lives work anymore.

Sometimes we need someone to sort through information. Sometimes someone to challenge us. Sometimes a loved one. Sometimes an AI. And sometimes a thirteen-year-old boy with instant noodles.

Not all of them serve the same purpose.

So when the question comes up: Can AI replace a human? My answer is: Of course not!

But a task that used to be performed by a person? Of course technology can do that. It has been doing so for centuries.

For me, the more interesting questions are:

What kinds of activities?
And under what conditions?
Where does this create freedom?
Where does it create access?
And where do people lose jobs, income, or influence as a result?
What skills do we want to keep for ourselves?
Who owns the systems?
Who benefits?
Which people and places bear the costs of our technological conveniences?

These are more difficult questions. It’s not enough to simply cast humans as the good guys and machines as the bad guys. We have to shape the future.

I don't want to romanticize AI or demonize it. I want to learn to live in a world where it exists: with curiosity, a critical eye, and a sense of responsibility.

Perhaps we can make a more precise distinction instead: Do I need a function right now? Or do I need a person?

When I want to sort through information, I sometimes don’t really care if there’s someone sitting next to me. But when I want to laugh with a friend at the kitchen table, I want that exact person. Not because she can perform a task efficiently, but because she brings her own world with her. And because I can laugh with her until the house shakes.

I believe a good answer begins neither with fear nor with enthusiasm, but with something much less dramatic:

Try it out and see how it feels (I call this “Trial & Sensing”). Ask questions. Set boundaries. Take responsibility. And keep talking to each other.

People with people. People with machines. And sometimes with a 13-year-old boy at the supermarket who just knows where the chopsticks are.

With love and warm instant noodles,
Jeannette