Almost every parent knows that you can be literally anywhere with your kids, whether it’s going out to dinner, going to the park, sitting in the living room, or crammed in the car, and they’ll ask you questions you can’t answer.
Until recently, my parents’ mantra was, “Let’s Google it.”
My son, who grew up seeing Google as a fact of life, had no objections. Now that AI is really here, he’s not so happy with my new answer: “Ask the AI.”
My son, Noah, gleaned very clear anti-AI sentiment from YouTube, his colleagues, and perhaps the cultural anxieties around him. In many ways, I understand. He believes AI is an existential threat to humanity, the environment, and creativity. This is a very real and very mature concern for teens just entering high school.
But while Noah is forming his worldview, learning to think critically, and setting his inner compass, I live in a world where AI is already integrated into the way I work.
I use AI as part of my daily workflow in corporate leadership
At work, I often take the lead in incorporating AI into our workflows. This is a game-changer for team productivity, making work less stressful and repetitive tasks less boring.
This is not the life I imagined. As a former philosophy major, questions about ethics, consciousness, and what it means to be human were part of my career path. In fact, my graduate program in Continental Philosophy was replaced by Ethics and Artificial Intelligence just a few years ago (if I had the foresight to change my major).
At my son’s age, I might have been hesitant or even deeply convinced about the limits of AI. Frankly, I’m proud of him.
But at the same time, I’m drafting strategy documents and analytical materials every day, which can drain a lot of water in the process. It’s a contradiction that is difficult to reconcile.
My son and I are having difficult conversations.
My son has a tendency to judge things in black and white, but I see this as an opportunity to gently challenge such thinking. It’s not just a developmental stage. It’s a very human urge to simplify what feels big and overwhelming.
I don’t think there’s been a better example of AI since the advent of the atomic bomb.
I tell my son that tools are just tools, and what matters is how you use them. Hammers can build or destroy houses, but that doesn’t make them evil. Most tools reflect the intentions of the people behind them.
But you can’t assemble the hammers yourself, and their creators didn’t call for a concerted industry-wide slowdown because of potential safety concerns.
So while I’m far from being the AI cheerleader in my household, I’m also no prophet.
What I’m trying to raise is not a child who blindly accepts technology (or anything else), but a child who can think critically through complexity and maintain the tension of conflict without rushing to resolution. At least, this is what his future demands of him.
I want people to understand that pragmatic adoption does not mean blind acceptance of AI, and that outright rejection will not stop it from taking over the world. To face the reality of AI, we must sit somewhere in the messy middle.
We start with simple borders at home
I’m not switching conversations between my son and a chatbot. I don’t use AI to outsource meaningful creation. When I finish work for the day, I focus on getting my hands dirty in the garden, making pottery, or getting sore thumbs from pressing buttons on my favorite video game with my son.
We don’t know where Noah will ultimately land on AI. He may remain a skeptic, become an outspoken critic, or accept it as he enters society.
What’s more important to me is that we continue the dialogue. That he continues to question the world around him and learn not just what to think, but how to think. Most of all, I want him to know that it is possible to engage meaningfully with imperfection without abandoning your values.
We both understand it in real time. He is entering a rapidly changing world as a teenager, and as a parent, I am trying to model what it means to live thoughtfully within it.
I feel like that’s enough for now.