When machines think, what makes us matter?

Class/ File: Greater Good Magazine

 According to Greater Good Magazine, that line from the 2014 film Ex Machina keeps coming back to me as I watch my students trying to find their footing in a world increasingly shaped by artificial intelligence. Whether AI will ever truly become conscious is still uncertain. What does seem inevitable, though, is its movement toward a form of intelligence that feels almost godlike systems capable of creating knowledge, solving complex problems, and performing tasks at a scale and speed far beyond human ability.

This leads to a deeper question: what gives human life meaning when machines can match or even exceed many of our skills? This isn’t a distant concern. Students are already asking it just in simpler terms.

AI has intensified a familiar question in classrooms: “When will I ever use this?” Why struggle through Brave New World when AI can summarize it instantly in clear, accessible language? Why spend weeks observing biological processes when simulations can produce results in seconds? These questions go beyond convenience. They point to something deeper. Students aren’t just asking about usefulness they’re asking about purpose. In other words: what actually matters for me right now, as a student and as a person?

Education was never only about practicality. At its core, it has always been about meaning about whether what happens in the classroom connects to something that feels significant outside of it. It’s no surprise that many students don’t feel that connection. According to Gallup, fewer than 20% strongly believe what they’re learning is important or relevant to their lives. AI didn’t create this disconnect; it has simply made it more visible. We’ve been preparing students for the future while relying on outdated assumptions.

This loss of purpose in education reflects a broader issue. The traditional sources of meaning religion, community, stable careers, and shared civic identity have weakened. Philosopher Charles Taylor describes this as a fractured “moral horizon,” where there is no longer a shared sense of what matters or why. AI didn’t cause this breakdown, but it may speed it up. The real danger isn’t moral decline it’s moral passivity. As more decisions are automated, we risk losing the habit of making thoughtful judgments that shape our values.

We now have more freedom than any generation before us, yet less clarity about how to use it. The consequences are visible: increasing levels of anxiety, loneliness, and depression, even in materially comfortable societies.

AI has brought this “crisis of meaning” into sharper focus. For a long time, education has been organized around one main goal: preparing students for jobs and economic participation. This has led to an emphasis on what is easiest to standardize and measure-procedures, memorization, and correct answers. These are exactly the kinds of tasks AI excels at. In fact, AI represents the peak of this model. The competition between humans and machines in this area isn’t coming it’s already been decided.

Although AI can support creativity and critical thinking, relying on it too heavily-especially in a system focused on completing tasks-may weaken those very abilities. Research from the MIT Media Lab warns that excessive dependence on AI could lead to “cognitive atrophy,” reducing people’s capacity to think independently.

What AI cannot do, however, is shape who we become as people. In a way, it has forced education back to its original purpose. At its foundation, education is about meaning: helping individuals question their assumptions, form values, and seriously consider what kind of life is worth living. These aren’t secondary skills-they are essential, and they cannot be automated.

For more than two decades, my teaching has centered on two enduring questions: How do we know what we know? And what does it mean to live a good life? These aren’t problems to be solved once and for all-they are questions to engage with continuously. Students explore how knowledge is formed, how meaning develops, and how identity is shaped through choices and reflection.

Education has long justified itself through its link to productivity encouraging students to learn in order to succeed, contribute, and secure their future. But as AI takes over more of the tasks that once defined that contribution, this justification becomes weaker. If machines can do the work better, then education cannot remain focused on training students to replicate that work.

We are now faced with a choice: continue treating education mainly as preparation for employment, or rethink it as a way to develop judgment, purpose, and the ability to make thoughtful decisions in a world where productivity is no longer the main measure of human worth.

Biologist E. O. Wilson once warned that humanity is caught between “primitive emotions, outdated institutions, and godlike technology.” That observation feels even more relevant today. We are handing the next generation immense power, without ensuring they have the wisdom to use it well.

The most important question education can ask-the one Socrates never stopped asking remains simple: What is the wisest thing to do in this situation?