
In conversations about AI, technology, and progress, adaptation is often treated as the ultimate answer. Raise concerns about how a technology might reshape human thinking, relationships, culture, or meaning, and the response is usually immediate: “Humans always adapt.”
They’re probably right. We have adapted to every major technological shift before, and we will likely adapt to AI as well.
But adaptation is not the same as progress. It tells us what humans can endure, not whether the result improves our lives. Humans adapted to social media, yet many still debate its effects on attention, well-being, and community. We can adapt to chronic stress, constant notifications, or unhealthy routines, but normalizing something does not make it beneficial.
Adaptation shows human flexibility. It does not tell us whether a future helps us thrive.
Which is why I keep returning to a different set of questions:
Can we do this?
Human beings can do many things.
The deeper questions are:
Should we, under what conditions, at what cost, and for whose benefit?
Those are the questions that transform a conversation about technology into a conversation about wisdom.
A society that only asks “Can we?” may become technologically advanced.
A society that also asks “Should we?” has a chance of becoming wise.
This distinction between capability and wisdom is where many people misunderstand skepticism.
Questioning technology is not the same as opposing it. A bridge, vaccine, political system, law, or technology should be questioned—not because we want it to fail, but because it matters and we want it to succeed.
Imagine someone saying this about airplanes:
“Before we put millions of people into the air, let’s test airplanes thoroughly. Let’s understand the risks. Let’s improve the design.”
Would we call that person anti-aviation?
Of course not.
They’re helping make aviation safer.
Their skepticism improves the innovation.
Which is why I believe the opposite of innovation is not skepticism.
The opposite of innovation is stagnation.
Skepticism is how responsible societies innovate.
If skepticism ( as illustrated in the example above) strengthens innovation, then questioning strengthens citizenship.
Questioning in itself is not resistance; it is participation. And without it, we risk drifting along with systems we have not examined and decisions made by others.
Questioning is how people exercise agency. It is the habit of examining before choosing, of helping shape the future rather than simply accepting it.
These questions become especially important when we turn to AI.
Most discussions focus on what AI can do for us.
And to be fair, it can do a lot.
It can help us write, learn, create, and solve problems.
In education, for example, AI tutors can provide personalized explanations and instant feedback to students who might otherwise struggle to get individual attention. That is a powerful benefit.
But increasingly, I find myself asking a different question.
What will AI require from us?
Every generation inherits technology.
But not every generation pauses long enough to ask what that technology is asking in return.
What habits will it encourage, what abilities will it weaken, and what values will it reward?
What parts of ourselves might disappear because we no longer need to use them?
The future of work is often discussed in these conversations.
People say new jobs will emerge.
And perhaps they will.
There may be more AI engineers, robotics specialists, and careers we cannot yet imagine.
But I wonder if we are asking the wrong question.
The question isn’t only whether people will have jobs.
The deeper question is whether people will have meaning.
Human beings do not live by income alone.
People need purpose, competence, and belonging.
A salary can pay the bills, but it cannot provide meaning by itself.
Someone can earn a great living and still feel empty.
My concern is not simply that people may lose work.
It is that people may keep work and lose meaning.
That we may build a society optimized for efficiency while neglecting the things that make life worth living.
Questions of meaning naturally lead to questions of relationship.
Imagine a future where you work with machines, learn from machines, entertain yourself through machines, and seek companionship through machines.
What happens to human-to-human relationships?
And it's not because people hate one another.
But because technology becomes more convenient than people.
That possibility is frightening.
Not because it sounds dramatic.
Because it sounds plausible.
Beyond work and relationships lies another concern that receives far less attention: culture.
Much of the AI conversation is happening in Silicon Valley.
Far less attention is being given to what these technologies mean for cultures that did not build them.
As an African, I find myself wondering:
How will my culture, my worldview, and my community be represented?
If AI becomes part of humanity’s knowledge layer, whose knowledge will it carry forward?
And whose knowledge will be forgotten?
We have already seen examples of algorithmic systems struggling with cultural and linguistic representation, from image-generation tools that overrepresent Western aesthetics to language models that perform far better in major global languages than in many African or Indigenous languages.
This is not only an African question.
It is an Indigenous, linguistic, cultural, and civilizational question.
Will AI preserve cultural diversity?
Or will it slowly flatten the world into a handful of dominant perspectives?
I don’t know the answers.
And perhaps that is exactly why these questions matter.
The purpose of questioning is not always to reach certainty. Often, it is to ensure that important decisions are made deliberately rather than by default.
At The Catalyst, we do not slow ideas down because we fear them.
We slow them down because they matter.
Important ideas deserve important questions.
The future should not only be built.
It should be examined.
Because the future is coming whether we are ready or not.
The real question is whether we will help shape it—or simply adapt to it.
Before we ask whether we can adapt to what comes next, we should ask something more important:
Is this a future we would choose?
Because the futures we question are the futures we have a chance to change.
Insightful write up. I really love to see how AI advance and revolutionize the world in the next 5-10 years
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