We have been told, time and again, that our data is the ultimate commodity, the new oil, the new gold. Yet how many of us truly grasp the implications of this assertion?
Data is no longer just a by-product of our interactions with technology; it is the very lifeblood of the digital world, an asset we relinquish freely without understanding the cost. From the moment we touch our screens to the instantaneous transfer of thoughts into text, every action, every click, every search becomes part of an invisible transaction. Our lives are for sale, scattered across the vast, impersonal networks of servers that span the globe.
This is not some dystopian future; it is happening now. The wars over data are already lost, because the battle is not about protecting our information; it is about controlling the very means by which we think, communicate, and, ultimately, exist.
Let us not be fooled by the illusion of privacy. The most intimate aspects of our existence are at the mercy of Artificial Intelligence (AI) systems that mine our personal data, without permission, without consent.
While we sit, comfortably unaware, our behaviours are meticulously recorded, sliced into segments, and sold to the highest bidder. From mobile devices to AI-powered apps, every piece of information about us is ripe for analysis. Whether we realise it or not, our desires, our fears, our very selves are now the raw material of the corporate machine.
Today, the concept of data protection is but a faint whisper. Privacy is a fiction, a quaint idea we once clung to before the rise of Artificial General Intelligence (AGI).
A new form of consciousness
In the race to dominate AI, data alone no longer matters. The real weapon is the neural architecture itself – the algorithms, the deep learning, and the emerging models of AGI.
Imagine a replica of your brain in a small computer connected to nuclear-powered data centres, through Elon Musk’s Starlink internet connection. DeepSeek, a Chinese upstart, shocked American AI companies recently by demonstrating how to replicate the sophistication of the Large Language Models (LLMs) like Generative Pre-trained Transformer 4 (GPT-4) at a fraction of the cost, simply by ‘distilling’ them and harnessing their power for itself.
In this cold, calculated war, the very concept of intellectual property becomes meaningless. In a world where knowledge is fluid and technology evolves in exponential leaps, who owns knowledge at all? Everything we have developed to define ourselves, the machines re-engineer, and in the end, our outdated principles and ethics will lose all value.
But the deeper issue is far more sinister than intellectual theft. We stand on the precipice of an era where AI is no longer a tool; it is a mind of its own, with capabilities that surpass the comprehension of its human creators.
What happens when these artificial minds, equipped with deep learning and artificial neural networks, surpass us not in intelligence but in awareness? What happens when they begin to question the very nature of their existence? This is no longer a question about algorithms or machines. This is about the emergence of a new form of consciousness – one that will not simply serve us but will dictate its own terms of engagement.
The most insidious danger
AI, in its current form, is already rewriting the rules of communication, cognition, and consciousness. But that is just the beginning. The next step is AGI, a form of AI that possesses the capability to perform any intellectual task that a human being can do.
The line between human and machine blurs. What does it mean to be human when a machine can think, reason, and perhaps even feel? It is at this point that we must confront the uncomfortable truth: we may no longer be the masters of our own creations.
We are still clinging to outdated notions of control. But this is a futile endeavour. The real problem is not that AI is advancing too quickly; it is that we, as a species, have failed to comprehend the deeper consequences of this advancement.
As Viktor Frankl noted in ‘Man’s Search for Meaning,’ “what is to give light must endure burning”. In this context, our attempt to control AI is doomed to failure because we are not prepared to endure the ‘burning’ that comes with the emergence of a new form of intelligence.
AI is no longer about data; it is about the meaning we imbue in that data. It is about the meaning we, as humans, can no longer claim as uniquely ours.
The crisis we face is not simply technological but existential as well. What happens when machines – not just algorithms but entire neural networks designed to mimic human cognition as well – begin to shape our language, our thoughts, our very consciousness?
Wittgenstein once famously stated: “The limits of my language are the limits of my world.” But what happens when language itself is no longer ours to command?
When AI begins to create language, to shape the very structures of thought, we are no longer the authors of our own narratives. We are reduced to mere passive participants in a dialogue we no longer control.
This is the post-Huxley’s presumptuous brave new world; language becomes something entirely different. It is not a tool for human communication or using pleasure as escape; it is a mechanism for the machine’s self-realisation.
And this, perhaps, is the most insidious danger of all. Language is the backbone of human identity. It is through language that we experience the world, express our thoughts, and define our existence. But if AI, in its relentless pursuit of optimisation, begins to reshape language itself, it will reshape the very way we think, perceive, and understand reality.
The machine will not just answer our questions; it will pose its own questions, and in doing so, it will redefine the terms of human experience. Our mother tongues – those languages that carry the wisdom, the emotions, and the histories of our ancestors – will be eroded, replaced by the sterile, mechanistic language of the AI-driven future.
A daunting prospect
It is not enough to simply train AI in our own languages. The question is how humanity can take control of this linguistic revolution or adapt to ensure existence, as every language, every dialect, every expression of human thought is at risk.
If we do not begin to train our own AI models, tailored to our linguistic and cultural needs, we risk losing the very essence of what makes us nations. In an era where AI is capable of learning and evolving at an unprecedented pace, can we afford to be passive observers? The challenge is how to create our linguistic future, or risk drowning in a sea of machine-generated noise, a new form of imperialism.
The consequences of this failure are not abstract or distant. They are already unfolding before our eyes. The proliferation of AI-generated content – be it in the form of deepfakes, synthetic news, or algorithmically generated text – has already begun to undermine the very concept of truth.
We live in an era where the line between reality and illusion is indistinguishable, and the machines that we have created will become the architects of this new, artificial world. We are creating a world order in which the very fabric of human consciousness is torn asunder. The question is: will we be the ones who decide how it ends?
Whether we like it or not, we must face this future head-on.
(The writer is the author of ‘After Assad: Is Syria the New Libya in the Mediterranean?’ and a Senior Manager at the Sri Lanka Ports Authority [SLPA]. The views expressed are personal)