Artificial Intelligence is transforming our lives, raising both opportunities and ethical dilemmas. In this context, Rabbinic wisdom, particularly from Judaism, can guide us toward a more humane approach. The conversation shifts to how we must reclaim our humanity amidst the rise of AI, embracing rehumanizing practices like mitzvot, Shabbat, and prayer to remain reflections of a divine mystery.
In this modern age, Artificial Intelligence (AI) is changing our lives faster than we can process it. From self-driving cars to chatbots, it’s clear that AI is woven into our society, presenting both thrilling possibilities and troubling challenges. As we gather, let’s reflect on the age-old lessons of Jewish thought and how they can inform our approach to this digital frontier.
Drawing on the words of Maimonides, who famously asserted that “the highest degree of wisdom is benevolence,” we need to navigate the ethical landscape of AI. We are tasked with making sure that as technology advances, it aligns with our core values as Jews and compassionate individuals.
Let’s rewind a bit. Back in the 1950s, mathematician Alan Turing, often hailed as the father of computer science, came up with a way to gauge if a machine can think. He called it the Turing test, where a person communicates with both a human and a machine without knowing who’s who, and if they can’t tell the difference, well, the machine has passed.
Fast forward to the 1990s, when the Cambridge Center for Behavioral Studies started the Loebner Prize—a competition based on Turing’s test, encouraging programmers to create chatbots that could fool a panel of judges. The winner earned the title of “The Most Human Computer.” Times have changed, and the last Loebner prize was awarded back in 1990. Creating AI that convincingly mimics human conversation is downright easier now. Ray Kurzweil had a vision, calling it “the age of intelligent machines,” and here we are, living in it.
AI is reshaping our perceptions, nudging us to think of ourselves as mere machines. We tire and need to “shut off” like a computer, “process” info, and go on vacation to “recharge.” Could it be that our struggle to differentiate between humans and machines says more about our diminishing view of humanity than about AI’s capabilities? MIT roboticist Rodney Brooks claimed that we tend to “overanthropomorphize humans… who are after all mere machines.” A grim takeaway, but there’s truth in the blurring lines.
These are tough times. We’re witnessing a loss of humanity—social media treats us as commodities, the gap between rich and poor only widens, and basic rights feel increasingly negotiable. Global crises, from climate woes to mass migrations, challenge our understanding of neighborly relations.
Some believe AI could help tackle these very issues. Consider the AI tool COMPAS, which predicts recidivism rates without using race as a factor. On the surface, it seems noble. However, a 2016 ProPublica analysis revealed that the system still disproportionately recommended harsher sentences for Black defendants, perpetuating existing inequalities. AI might hold a mirror to our flawed world, yet it simply reflects instead of creating a new reality.
In this age of dehumanization, we must champion deeper values. If intelligence is the only trait that defines our humanity, it won’t be long before machines surpass us—or at least pretend to. But we are more than circuits and code. We embody beauty and complexity; we are reflections of a divine mystery. Breaking away from computational metaphors is key to rediscovering our multi-faceted humanity. This calls for a renaissance, a great rehumanizing project.
Through Judaism, we find tools for this endeavor. The mitzvot serve to rehumanize us, reminding us that our lives are meant for more than mere survival and consumption. Instead, we’re invited to seek meaning and connection. Shabbat is a sanctuary from the relentless pace of productivity, teaching us simply to be. And prayer? It’s a gateway to express our hopes and sorrows, offering communal solace and strength, brimming with profound metaphors for our existence.
The Jewish calendar, too, propels us into a cycle of reflection, revisiting themes of freedom and growth. As we celebrate each passing year, we assess how much we’ve evolved. Machines may mimic learning, but only humans can genuinely grow.
Judaism reveals how we transcend being just machines. AI lacks the essence of meaning-making, the power to pray, or the ability to feel inspired and grateful. Machines may execute tasks, yet the uniquely human traits of wonder and growth are critical now more than ever. If we want the 21st century to be marked by moral humanity, we must re-engage with this rehumanizing mission.
Back in the days of the Loebner Prize, humans were just as important to the process of determining the most human-like computer. They also honored one individual—the one mistaken for a machine the least often, dubbed “The Most Human Human.” Interacting with my own AI, RabbiBot, illuminated the proximity of that potential reality. In response, we need to strive to be the most human of humans, especially as AI continues to evolve around us.
As these everyday bots get smarter, we too must commit to becoming wiser. As they learn to appear more lifelike, we’re called to delve deeper into our own humanity.
Rabbi Joshua R. S. Fixler serves as an associate rabbi at Congregation Emanu El in Houston and contributes to the Synagogue Innovation Blog through the Clergy Leadership Incubator, a two-year rabbinic fellowship program led by Rabbi Sid Schwarz.
In conclusion, as we navigate the complexities of Artificial Intelligence, we must draw inspiration from our Jewish traditions that prioritize humanity, connection, and ethical values. The challenge is not just how we interact with machines but how we redefine what it means to be human in the age of technology. By embracing this rehumanizing project, we can ensure that we remain the agents of meaning and moral clarity in an increasingly machine-driven world.
Original Source: ejewishphilanthropy.com
