What A Thanksgiving Road-Trip Comedy Can Teach Us About Appreciating the AI Era

Let us choose faith over fear as we navigate our strange new frontier.

“Will AI make me obsolete?”

Without fail, each and every time I speak to groups about AI, I get some version of this question.

Last week, a clearly upset middle-aged man cut me off in the middle of my talk. “Level with me,” he said. “Is my career over?”

I understand their apprehensions. I feel the same concerns myself.

The Worries We’re All Carrying into the AI Age

In fact, it’s the main reason I created the AI Philosopher in the first place. As the father of two small boys, I’m deeply invested in ensuring they have a fighting chance to make a life for themselves. Not just them. Every child out there.

After receiving many such fearful questions from audiences throughout the country, I decided to insert a new slide to my presentation. It shows physicist Albert Einstein’s picture next to his famous quote: “The most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe.”

His message is especially apt for our times: Your outlook determines your life experience. If you’re a glass-is-half-empty person, you may believe AI—and all the risks it poses—are happening to you.

On the other hand?

If you’re a glass-is-half-full person, you may believe AI—and all the opportunities it poses—are happening for you.

Famed inventor Henry Ford said something similarly profound: “If you think you can or if you think you can’t—either way you’re right.”

The Fears Are Real. And Well-Founded

Please don’t get me wrong.

I’m not belittling the worries people have about AI. Again, I share them.

Many nights I lie in bed fretting, wondering what will happen next. Just this May, none other than Anthropic’s CEO warned “AI could eliminate half of all entry-level white-collar jobs.”

The specter of digital IDs and “programmable money” also loom large in my worries. So do fears about what will happen as more young people give in to widespread academic cheating with AI.

How do I manage my many concerns?

I make a philosophical choice.

I choose to believe we live in a benevolent universe, one in which the many challenges we face are happening for us, not to us. For our spiritual growth, especially.

A Lesson on Faith Hidden In Plain Sight

Allow me to reference John Hughes’ classic film Planes, Trains and Automobiles to illustrate this mindset. In the 1987 movie, Neil Page (Steve Martin) scrambles to get home to Chicago from New York to be with his wife and kids for Thanksgiving.

Along the way he suffers a series of soul-crushing misadventures, most of which are due to the antics of Del Griffith (John Goodman), a fellow traveler who would try the patience of even the most generous spirit.

Cynical by nature, Page initially blames Griffith for every setback. He yells at Griffith for stealing his cab, for blabbing on incessantly, for washing his gross socks in the motel sink, for smoking in bed and in the car, for even driving them the wrong way down a busy highway, nearly getting them killed.

Truth be told, Page isn’t totally off-base.

Griffith takes obnoxiousness to another level.

His snorting in bed “to clear his sinuses” alone is enough to drive anyone mad. But Griffith is also loyal. And good-natured. The kind of rare friend who would do anything to help you get home to see your loved ones.

Near the end of the film, Page reaches this same conclusion.

In a heartwarming epiphany, he recalls all the shenanigans the duo went through to get back home with fondness, not ire. He laughs at all their mishaps with genuine appreciation for the road traveled, not just the destination.

In other words, Page is grateful for what happened to him.

Gratitude: A Lifeline in Uncertain Times

Without Griffith and all the chaos they endured together, Page wouldn’t have a story to tell his friends for years to come. Page also wouldn’t have had the chance to grow as a person if not for the difficulties Griffith caused him.

This realization holds the key to understanding our own lives, especially during this challenging moment with AI. The truth is no one knows what tomorrow will bring. That’s always been humanity’s plight. And its blessing.

But only if we choose to view life through that lens.

Think about video games. Would it be satisfying to win if you already knew exactly what would happen? If there wasn’t the risk for failure?

Of course not. The outcome’s uncertainty is what makes it worth playing.

The same thing goes for watching movies or reading books. There’s a reason we detest spoilers: they rob us of the enjoyment that comes from not knowing the outcome.

Uncertainty’s Promise

“Yes,” you might object. “But we aren’t talking about fiction. We’re talking about real life. With real consequences.”

I also agree with that sentiment. But I would add one more thing.

It’s because life is so high-stakes that the uncertainty is worthwhile. If we knew for sure what would happen next, it would be easier to make the choices we have to every day.

But that certainty would also diminish the experience, especially the lessons we stand to gain by going through it.

This Thanksgiving as we stand on the precipice of the AI Age with all its risks and opportunities, it’s helpful to embrace this moment, not with fear but gratitude. With a child-like faith and trust that comes from believing that no matter what comes next, this universe is benevolent. That everything that’s happening is a gift, one that is being given not to us, but for us.

In that spirit, from my family to yours, may you have a wonderful Thanksgiving. I am grateful for all of you.