The Illusion of Progress

The eroding undercurrent of technological advancement in our sense of selves.

Author

Pedro Porto Alegre
September 06, 2023

Art, in the broadest sense of the word, has for millennia served the purpose of inspiring, grounding ourselves in the present, and oftentimes making us feel uncomfortable by challenging our deepest beliefs. However, very few are able to create what go on to become ‘classics’—meaning, pieces of work that don’t erode over time and that withstand the scrutinizing test of time. These typically touch on our deepest human truths, and not on trendy topics of the moment.

In the 2013 dystopian film 'Her,' directed by Spike Jonze and starring Joaquin Phoenix, we are offered a glimpse into a future that is eerily reflective of our present and beautifully encapsulates several layers of our presently damaged humanity. The film's protagonist, Theodor Twombly, navigates a world that oscillates between the mundane and the surreal, a world that feels at once familiar and unsettlingly "Black Mirror-y." Theodor's life beautifully encapsulates the depressingly lonely lives that many in our society rehearse today: waking up alone, relying on machines for the most basic of human needs, and spending the day in isolated cubicles, only to return home to an equally solitary existence of playing video games, watching reality TV shows, and eating takeout.

This is not just a cinematic exaggeration; it's a reality for a significant portion of our urban population. The relentless pursuit of productivity has become the new currency, as people sacrifice emotional well-being and meaningful connections on the altar of efficiency and financial gain. Theodor's life is a testament to this, as he grapples with a painful divorce while living in a society that has commoditized even the most intimate human emotions.

The film reaches an emotional crescendo when Theodor's AI companion, Samantha, asks him “what does it feel like to be married”. His response is a poignant reflection on the complexities of human relationships, the joys and sorrows of sharing your life with someone, and the challenges of growing together—or apart.

“Well, it was hard for sure. But there’s something that feels so good about sharing your life with somebody. We grew up together. I used to read all of her writing all through her Master’s and Phd. She read every word I ever wrote. We were a big influence on each other. She came from a background where nothing was ever good enough, and that was something that weighed heavy on her. But in our house together there was sense of just trying stuff and allowing each other to fail and to be excited about things. That was liberating for her. It was exciting to see her grow and both of us grow and change together. But that’s also the hard part. Growing with her, or growing apart. Or changing without it scaring the other person. I still find myself having conversations with her in my mind. Rehearsing old arguments and defending myself against something she said about me.”

Her (2013)

This moment is not just a narrative device; it's a philosophical inquiry into the nature of human emotions in a world increasingly governed by algorithms and data. To AI models, emotions are just another datapoint like any other. Yet, for us humans it’s much more than that. It’s something that feels uniquely ours, subjective, not indifferent or cold. As Samantha goes on developing her capabilities at an exponential rate, surpassing Theodor’s human abilities to feel certain things, she begins to experience new feelings that humans cannot relate to, and living “in between” the dots while us mere mortals can only see the dots themselves. It’s a fascinating description of how different we are from our machines.

The accelerating developments in artificial intelligence over the past year have brought us to a crossroads. On the one hand, we are promised a future of unparalleled convenience and efficiency. On the other, we are confronted with the erosion of what makes us fundamentally human. We justify the bad by highlighting the apparent good that comes with it: we won’t need to do boring jobs anymore, we will be freer to be creative, information will be fluid and easier to absorb, we’ll be able to pump out more work than ever before at a fraction of the time and money, we’ll be able to be our own bosses! All the while putting what makes us human aside—our emotions, challenges, failures, and shortcomings—largely considered to be obstacles in a consumer-driven economy. While these machines unlock economic prosperity, in the process, humans become mere casualties, forced into aloofness and devoid of their humanity.

Suddenly, the old feels rudimentary and unsophisticated, yet the new feels cold and incomprehensible.

This relentless pursuit of productivity and efficiency that modern society imposes on us has given rise to a world that is emotionally impoverished, leading to a rise in mental illnesses, a sense of stagnation, and an increasing difficulty in fostering intimate relationships.

The questions surrounding the future of AI often center on its impact on employment and safety. However, this narrow focus overlooks a more insidious undercurrent: the gradual dehumanization of humans themselves. We are prehistoric beings thrusted into a dystopian landscape, enamored by the shiny new toys that technology offers, yet oblivious to the dangers they pose to our emotional and psychological well-being. In our quest for convenience and efficiency, we have commoditized human emotions, reducing them to transactional exchanges lacking any real connection or intimacy.

The portrayal of Theodor's life in 'Her' serves as a cautionary tale for the future we are collectively creating today. We have become so engrossed in the pursuit of individual success and material wealth that we have lost sight of what makes us who we are—all the while relentlessly searching for happiness and fulfillment.

PPA