Living the HI Life

This one may ramble a bit, folks, and the connection to writing mystery fiction may be a bit oblique--except in the sense that what I'm concerned about is, in part, the state of essentially all reading and writing. Earlier this month I had the chance to take a scenic train ride through the Rocky Mountains. It was breathtaking, and inspiring (in no small part because of the stories of the fierce, ongoing efforts by a lot of dedicated people to minimize and mitigate the ecological damage humans have done in that region).

One of my favorite things about it? The parts of the trip when the train was remote enough from any town, or deep enough in some canyon, that there was no Internet service. This seemed to cause some of my fellow travelers a touch of consternation, but I found it to be an almost physical relief. Being online started out as a luxury, then became a convenience, then a necessity, and now it's basically, for most people most of the time, an obligation.

For me, it was a pleasure to just sit back and watch the world go by, unconcerned with the digital "life" I was mercifully cut off from.

This experience got juxtaposed, in my mind, with the growing evidence that the use of AI is actively making people dumber. A lot of people are getting very concerned about this; there's more and more reason to think that becoming dependent on AI substantially reduces people's critical thinking and creative skills, and that it does so pretty quickly and pretty substantially. If you need a connection to writing, that's a pretty good one. People need critical thinking and creative skills to write. They need them to read, too, and the last thing we need right now is yet another reduction in the ever-shrinking percentage of the population interested in (or capable of) reading for pleasure.

I'm fifty-five years old. It seems to me that these have been, and continue to be, the dominant political and cultural trends of my lifetime, the things that have transformed the world I was becoming aware of fifty years ago into the world (and most specifically the US) that exists today:

• A massive redistribution of wealth upward, at the expense of education, healthcare, the environment, workers' rights, social mobility, infrastructure, and the arts.
• A movement away from direct engagement with the world and toward engagement with computer-driven simulations--first video games, then the internet (particularly social media), now AI, and, looming on the horizon, virtual reality.
• Skyrocketing rates of depression, anxiety, and loneliness, particularly among young people.

These aren't really separate things. They reinforce and magnify each other. Depression and anxiety can start to seem like awfully rational reactions to a world in which your chances for real economic success are severely limited and you spend basically your entire life staring at screens.

I don't think there will be any real effort to mitigate the intellectual cost of AI. There's too much money to be made.

More importantly, the fact that it actively makes people stupider is, from certain points of view, awfully convenient. Critical thinking skills are inherently threatening to those who benefit from manipulating and exploiting the populace. Critical thinkers are less likely to vote against their own interests– or to choose not to vote at all. Critical thinkers don't support policies that further enrich the obscenely wealthy because they anticipate, for no coherent reason, someday being among them. Critical thinkers don't blame their problems on others because of their racial, political, sexual, or national identities.

Critical thinkers understand that fascism is not the same thing as patriotism. I'm as guilty of falling into the traps as anybody else. I, too, have the nasty habit of reaching for my phone in any idle moment. I have to actively resist buying video game systems because I know how addictive they can be for me. I know the endorphin rush of social media– something else I've learned to try to avoid, with only partial success.

Some days I swear I can feel my attention span shrinking. There's nothing I can really do to reverse all this on a cultural or collective level. All I can do is try to make decisions and take actions that move me, personally, in a different direction. All any of us can do is, whenever it's possible to do so, choose HI– Human Intelligence– over Artificial Intelligence.

So I'll go for a walk instead of falling into YouTube rabbit holes. I'll reach for an actual, physical book instead of my phone. And I'll keep writing, and have faith that there are people out there who still want to read things written by actual people. I'll try to choose, as much as I can, to lead a HI life.