The Ontology of What it Means to Be Human in the Age of AI

When thinking about how AI reshapes our world, I find it helpful to frame the challenges we face into two broad categories: the technical and the ontological. The technical category includes everything tied to how AI directly affects work, economics, politics, policy, and the everyday details of our lives. It covers the practical realities—how AI automates tasks, analyzes data, and identifies patterns across countless fields, and how people will use these capabilities to make their lives better. This category also encompasses the broader ripple effects: how AI will reshape markets, influence policy decisions, and even alter the geopolitical balance. In short, it represents all the tangible ways AI touches the way we live and operate in the world.

The ontological category, on the other hand, addresses something deeper: the way AI impacts how we see ourselves, our purpose, our value, and even the meaning of human existence. These questions probe beyond economics or workflow and force us to reflect on identity and being. For instance, if AI can perform tasks with greater logical precision than we can, what does that say about the unique role of humans in the workplace? If AI reduces the need for human intervention in decision-making, what does that do to our sense of purpose? At its core, this category asks: what does it mean to be human in an age where machines increasingly share—or even surpass—our capabilities?

These two categories are inseparable. Every technical decision carries ontological implications, whether we recognize it or not. A company may focus on the immediate and practical, deciding to deploy AI for efficiency gains, but even that decision reflects underlying beliefs about human value. Choosing to automate a process implies a perspective—conscious or not—on the role of people in that system. To treat ontological questions as “just philosophy” while focusing on the technical is to overlook how deeply intertwined the two truly are.

This interplay between technology and human meaning is not new. History shows us that every major technological shift has forced people to grapple with both practical and existential questions. The history of philosophy itself can be read as a series of responses to waves of intellectual and technological progress. Rationalism, Idealism, Empiricism, Humanism, Existentialism, Marxism, Utilitarianism, Materialism, Positivism, Absurdism, Pragmatism, Post-Modernism, Feminism, and Environmental Ethics—each of these schools of thought arose in response to broader societal and technological change. And while most people at the time never read the treatises of great thinkers, these ideas inevitably filtered into everyday beliefs, shaping how societies organized themselves and how individuals understood their lives.

It’s important to remember that there was a time when none of these belief systems existed. Each emerged as a reflection of growing awareness—something that could not have been fully articulated before new circumstances brought it to the surface. Take Humanism, for example. Its emphasis on reason, human agency, and shared morality could not have arisen in eras dominated by supernatural explanations. It was only after the scientific method began to reveal natural explanations for phenomena once attributed to divine forces that people could begin to reimagine morality as grounded in human experience. Humanism wasn’t simply an abstract philosophy—it reshaped daily life, embedding itself in the moral and social fabric of societies.

Marxism provides another example. Built on a materialist interpretation of history, Marxism argued that economic structures were the primary drivers of social change and predicted capitalism’s eventual collapse under its own contradictions. But for Marxism to exist, people first had to live through industrialization, to see classes form and clash in ways that earlier societies never experienced. Like Humanism, Marxism didn’t remain confined to academic discourse. It fueled movements, revolutions, and widespread belief systems that mobilized millions of people.

These examples remind us that ontological reflection—our attempts to understand who we are and where we fit—always shapes real-world behavior, policy, and organization. The ideas people hold about themselves and their place in the world directly inform their politics, economies, and daily choices. There is no strict separation between the philosophical and the practical; each drives the other in a cycle of belief and action.

We’ve seen this dynamic play out with every major technological disruption. The industrial revolution sparked new ontological considerations about class, labor, and fairness. The advent of electricity and vaccines raised new questions about the boundaries of science and human progress. The rise of communication technologies reshaped human relationships, trust, and cultural belonging. Each time, people redefined what it meant to be human, and new philosophies emerged to meet that reality.

Today, we find ourselves in another such moment. The rise of AI is not just a technical revolution; it is an ontological one as well. The changes AI is bringing will rival the transformative impact of any past innovation. In turn, our response will generate new beliefs about the nature of humanity, consciousness, and purpose.

In fact, we’re already seeing the signs. Across academia, business, and popular culture, there is a surge of interest in consciousness—what it is, why it matters, and whether machines might someday share it. Panpsychism, a theory suggesting that consciousness is a fundamental property of all matter, is being revisited with renewed energy. According to this view, awareness is not limited to humans or animals but is woven into the very fabric of the universe. Whether or not one accepts the theory, the fact that it’s being seriously debated highlights how new technologies, particularly AI, push us to question long-held assumptions about mind, matter, and meaning.

This ontological inquiry also stretches into questions of morality and identity. As technology forces new realities, people are rethinking their moral relationship with the environment, with gender, and now with machines. The rise of AI compels us to ask: can machines be conscious? Can they act morally, or are they only capable of simulation? Should AI systems be granted rights or ethical protections? Does creativity require intention and emotion, or can it emerge from algorithms? Does AI deepen our understanding of human consciousness, or merely highlight its boundaries? Is human value intrinsic, or is it defined by what we can do that machines cannot? What does it mean to be “in relation” in a world where relationships increasingly include the artificial as well as the human?

These are not abstract hypotheticals. They shape how we design technologies, how we govern their use, and how we relate to each other at work and in society. They influence whether we adopt AI cautiously or recklessly, whether we emphasize human well-being or prioritize efficiency at all costs.

In short, these questions must sit at the heart of any model of human value in the age of AI. The practical impacts of AI on work, life, and policy are immense, but they cannot be fully understood apart from the deeper ontological reckoning AI demands of us. We may not be able to predict all the outcomes—AI’s trajectory and influence are still unfolding—but we can already see how it is reshaping the workplace, the human condition, and our collective sense of identity.

As this series continues, my aim is to propose a model for human value in this new age. To do that, we first need to wrestle with the core themes at stake: the impact of AI on jobs, the tension between the human condition and the human dimension, the essence of being human, the limits of artificial intelligence, and ultimately the unique value humanity continues to bring into this new era. Only then can we begin to articulate a framework that does justice both to the promise of technology and to the enduring depth of human life.