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This recent season, I was caught in congested traffic on the sweltering streets of Marseille. At a crossing, my companion in the front seat suggested a right turn toward a famous spot for fish soup. However, the digital guide on my phone commanded us to continue straight. Weary and in a stifling car, I heeded the algorithm's advice. Moments later, we were stuck at a construction site.

A seemingly trivial incident, maybe. But one that captures a defining question of our time, where digital tools permeates almost every aspect of our lives: whom do we trust to a greater degree – fellow humans and our personal instincts, or the algorithm?

The Enlightenment's Promise and Our Modern Relapse

The renowned German philosopher Immanuel Kant once defined the Enlightenment as "humanity's emergence from its self-imposed nonage." This immaturity, he argued, "is the inability to use one's personal reason without direction from another." For ages, that directing force for society was frequently the clergyman, the monarch, or the feudal lord – entities claiming to channel divine will. To comprehend natural events like changing seasons, people sought answers in religion. In organizing the social world, from commerce to matters of the heart, religious doctrine served as the primary guide.

“Sapere aude!” or “Dare to use your reason!”

Kant maintained that humans always possessed the capacity for reason. They simply lacked the confidence to employ it. With upheavals in America and France, a new dawn arrived: logic would replace blind faith, and the human mind, liberated from authority, would become the engine of advancement and a more ethical world.

Now, 250 years later, one might wonder if we are slipping back into a state of dependency. An app suggesting a direction is just one example. AI threatens to become our contemporary authority – a silent guide that steers our choices and actions. We risk ceding the historically earned courage to reason for ourselves – and now, not to gods or kings, but to lines of code.

The Swift Adoption and Subtle Dangers of AI Dependence

ChatGPT was launched only in 2022, and already a global survey found that an overwhelming majority of respondents had used AI in the previous six months. Whether deciding on a breakup or selecting a vote, individuals are increasingly turning to algorithms for guidance. Research suggests a significant portion of user prompts concern non-work topics. Even more intriguing than our use of AI for advice is what happens when we let it speak for us. Writing is now one of the top uses for tools like ChatGPT, second only to everyday tasks. The celebrated American author Joan Didion once remarked, “I write entirely to find out what I am thinking.” What occurs when we stop composing? Do we lose that path?

Worryingly, some evidence suggests the answer may be yes. A study from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology used brain monitoring to track the mental engagement of essay writers who had access to AI, traditional search engines, or no aids. Those who could use AI displayed the lowest brain activity and had trouble accurately recalling their own work. Perhaps most troubling was that over time, participants in the AI group grew increasingly reliant, copying entire blocks of text.

“Laziness and cowardice,” Kant wrote, “are the reasons why so great a proportion of men … remain in lifelong immaturity.”

Of course, AI's attraction stems from its convenience. It is fast, minimizes work and – importantly – offers a new method to offload responsibility. In his 1941 book, Escape from Freedom, the German psychoanalyst Erich Fromm argued that the rise of fascism could be understood by a preference to surrender personal freedom in exchange for the comforting security of subordination. AI presents a digital avenue for surrendering the weight of having to think and choose.

The Opacity Dilemma: Trust Without Understanding

AI's greatest allure is its ability to accomplish things beyond human capability – sifting through oceans of data at lightning pace. Sitting in the car in Marseille, this was, after all, why I opted to believe the app over my companion (a choice she interpreted as an affront). With access to all the data, surely the app had superior insight – or so I thought.

The fundamental problem is that AI operates as a black box. It produces answers, but without necessarily deepening human understanding. We cannot fully grasp how AI reaches its decisions – even its programmers admit this. Nor can we check its reasoning against transparent standards. So when we follow AI's advice, we are not being led by logic. We are back in the domain of faith. In dubio pro machina: when in doubt, trust the machine – that could be our future credo.

Harnessing Without Eroding: The Critical Balance

AI can be a formidable ally for mankind in rational inquiry. It can help inventing drugs, free us from tedious tasks, or handle taxes – work that are repetitive and are unfulfilling. This is beneficial. But Kant and his peers did not advocate for enlightenment just so humans could optimize chores or have more leisure. Critical thinking was not just about efficiency – it was a practice of liberty and human emancipation.

Human thought is inherently messy and fallible, but it compels us to debate, to doubt, to challenge concepts – and to acknowledge the boundaries of our own understanding. It builds self-reliance, both individually and as a society. For Kant, the exercise of reason was never only about information; it was about enabling people to become authors of their own destinies, and to resist control. It was about building a moral community grounded in the shared principle of rational discourse, rather than unquestioning acceptance.

With all the undeniable benefits AI brings, the paramount challenge is this: how can we harness its potential of advanced capability without eroding human rationality, the bedrock of the Enlightenment and of liberal democracy itself? That may be one of the central dilemmas of our century. It is a question we would do well not to outsource to the machine.