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[music]
[music]
>> People worry about AI for all kinds of
reasons. It's polarizing, it spreads
misinformation, it's coming for our
jobs. And those are all good reasons to
be nervous.
But what really keeps me up at night is
something else. Something that feels
more personal and perhaps even more
concerning for the human experience
itself.
I worry that AI will make us boring.
You, me, all of us.
That's because the more we outsource our
decisions to AI, the more we surrender
something deeply human.
Our capacity to explore, to take risks,
to stumble into the unknown, and
sometimes surprise even ourselves.
I worry without that without the
potential for discovery, for
serendipity, we risk becoming more
shallow and unidimensional versions of
who we are and who we could be.
Not just as humans, as individuals, but
as humanity.
Now, let me make this idea a bit more
concrete and take you somewhere perhaps
unexpected, but also totally relatable.
Imagine walking into a Baskin Robbins.
What you'll see is an illustrious
assortment of 31 different ice cream
flavors. There's chocolate chip,
pistachio almond, lemon sorbet, and many
more.
You're now facing a difficult choice.
Are you going to go with an old
favorite, chocolate maybe, or are you
going to take a risk on something funky
and new like wild and reckless sherbet?
And yes, it's a real flavor.
The choice you're facing is a classic
human dilemma scientists call the
exploitation exploration trade-off.
Are you going to play it safe and
capitalize on what you know you like, or
are you going to take a risk with the
hope of finding something even better?
And our lives are full of these
trade-offs. Stick with your favorite
restaurant or try to fancy new spot on
the corner. Keep your usual haircut or
ask for something new and edgy. Stay in
your stable job or finally try to become
a pickleball champion.
We all differ in our appetite for
exploitation versus exploration, but
we're also all hardwired by evolution to
strike a certain balance between the
two.
Because for our ancestors on the African
savanna, the trade-off was actually
pretty simple. Stick too closely to
what's safe and you risk starvation when
the grove runs dry. Stray too far into
the unknown and you might get poisoned
or eaten by lions.
Luckily for you and me, the trade-offs
we face today are far less about
survival.
But our choices are still governed by
this instinct to balance caution with
curiosity.
If all you ever did in life was play it
safe and exploit, you'd never get
disappointed. But you'd also never get a
chance to advance and grow.
If all you did instead was discover and
explore, you'd collect endless
experiences, but you'd also never get a
chance to capitalize on your learnings.
So it's really this balance between
exploitation and exploration that fuels
our growth.
Not just as a species, but also as
individuals.
But that's exactly where AI throws a
wrench into the works.
Because AI hates risk.
And that's not because of its
algorithmic DNA, it's because the
systems we rely on to navigate our world
from Spotify to Netflix to ChatGPT are
overwhelmingly trained to optimize for
exploitation.
Or more specifically for short-term
engagement and satisfaction.
Did you click the link, watch the video,
like the song? If yes, AI gets a clap on
the shoulder. If no, gets a slap on the
hand.
Risk, discovery, and exploration are
simply not part of their programming.
Think back to Baskin Robbins. If 60% of
people prefer the flavor Pralines 'n
Cream, which is their best-selling
flavor, then that's what the AI is going
to recommend.
It's not that AI lacks imagination, it
lacks incentive.
Safe bets protect against
disappointment, which in turn reduces
customer churn.
So instead of taking this risky gamble
that helps you explore, companies tend
to err on the side of exploitation when
training their AI systems.
And to be clear, there's nothing
inherently wrong with that. I've spent
the last 15 years as a computational
social scientist working at the
intersection of psychology, computer
science, and business. And I know that
rewarding AI that way can be extremely
valuable.
Algorithms in a way only become so good
at figuring out what you might enjoy or
currently be looking for because they
focus on exploitation.
And that's not just good for business,
it's also good and sometimes even
necessary for us as consumers.
For me, the mere thought of having to
choose between 31 different ice cream
flavors makes me dizzy.
And yet, most of the choices that we
face day-to-day are far more complex
than that.
Netflix, for example, has over 5,500
movies to choose from.
Spotify, over 100 million songs.
So the truth is that without a little
help from our exploitation-loving AI
friends, we simply don't stand a chance
of navigating modern life.
But I've also become increasingly
concerned that this upside comes at a
somewhat existential cost.
And to give you a first flavor of what I
mean by that, let's go back to Baskin
Robbins.
Before coming here, I ran a simple
experiment. I asked ChatGPT to recommend
one of their ice cream flavors. I did
that 100 times, each round pretending to
be a new customer.
96 times, it recommended one of their
two most popular flavors, Pralines 'n
Cream and Mint Chocolate Chip.
Which, I realize and I'm sure you'd
agree, is not exactly a very diverse set
of choices.
And it could mean that we soon find
ourselves in a world where Baskin
Robbins offers only those two flavors.
If no one ever picks the other 29, why
bother offering them in the first place?
Now, this might sound trivial and not
really existential at all.
But that's only until you realize that
this flattening of the human experience
happens across every aspect of life.
In studies with my collaborators and
students, we've shown that when people
use AI for guidance,
their preferences become more normative
and less diverse. Their creative output
becomes less unique. And their choice of
the most important scientists, athletes,
and historical figures becomes the same
as everyone else's.
So in a nutshell, AI turns this infinite
diversity of human opinions, beliefs,
and preferences into statistically safe
sameness.
And that's only part of the problem
because even when AI learns your quirks,
say it figures out that you like nutty
coconut better than Pralines 'n Cream,
it will still play it safe within your
preferences. Meaning it is going to
optimize for what you are most likely to
like.
I went back to ChatGPT for a second
experiment and this time told it about
my personal ice cream preferences. I
said that during my last 100 visits, I
picked nutty coconut 70% of the time.
The remaining 30% I split evenly among
three of my other favorites.
I then asked it to make the next 100
choices on my behalf.
And guess what it did.
It picked nutty coconut every single
time.
Gone
are my adventures into occasional
chocolate fudge cookie dough or mango.
All I am at that point is literally a
nutty coconut.
But forget about ice cream. My students
and I have repeatedly shown the same
patterns when studying people's actual
preferences.
AI narrows your taste, it flattens your
personality, and it scrubs away the
edges that make you interesting and keep
you dynamic.
And the insidious part of all of this is
that the impact of AI on human
complexity is subtle. You won't notice
it happening overnight.
Rather, it's a death by a thousand
algorithmic recommendations. One
slightly safer movie, one slightly more
popular book, one slightly more
mainstream vacation at a time.
With every decision you outsource to AI,
you become more narrow. Then AI learns
from that shallower version of you and
narrows its recommendations even more.
The New York Times reporter Kashmir Hill
captured this dilemma perfectly in one
of her articles.
After outsourcing her decisions to AI
for a week, she complained about its
hidden agenda to turn her into a basic
...
And the funny part is it's the word
basic here that's the biggest insult.
Because being basic means being
unoriginal, unexceptional, and
uninteresting.
It's offensive not because it suggests
failure, but because it implies
mediocrity.
An absence of complexity.
And who really wants that for
themselves?
Nobody. We all like the feeling of being
unique, of being special, of being
someone who doesn't easily fit into a
box.
I for one don't want to become exactly
like everybody else. And I also don't
want to become a singular version of
myself.
So what can we do to course correct and
avoid destination basic
We can't hit the reset button on AI and
we shouldn't. As I said before, these
tools are incredibly valuable for
navigating modern life and they make us
better off in many ways.
But we need to reclaim our ability to
take risks and discover.
We need to find a way to rebalance
exploitation and exploration.
And ironically, AI could actually help
us accomplish just that.
But only if we ask it the right
questions and reward it for the right
actions.
So, instead of asking it to help us find
something we like, we could start asking
it to help us find something new.
Something we're likely to love even
though we've never tried it before.
And by that, I don't necessarily mean
you typing that question into ChatGPT
yourself.
Although you should certainly try.
What I mean is getting companies to
harness AI superpower. It's ability to
detect patterns in vast amounts of human
data for exploration purposes.
Because AI has seen the entire universe
of preferences, it knows not only what
you currently like, but also what lies
just beyond the boundaries of your
typical preferences.
Which means that it can help you explore
smartly. To take curated risks when you
want to.
Now, here's what this could look like.
Imagine a dial on your Netflix account
or your Google search bar that lets you
decide how far from your typical
preferences you want to stray at any
given point in time.
On a regular day, you'll probably keep
the dial close to the spot-on setting
because you want to get the most
relevant hits right away.
But then on other days, you might feel
adventurous enough to push it a little
closer to the me with a twist setting
and ask for content that's a little
outside of your comfort zone, but still
relevant.
And then on other days, for those rare
moments when you feel like you're really
ready to take on the world, you might
push the dial all the way to the wild
card setting and ask it to help you
discover something entirely new.
I for one would love to have such a
dial. It doesn't force me to leave my
comfort zone. I can always leave it on
the spot-on setting and benefit from the
convenience that comes with it.
But it gives me the choice and the
agency to break out of my little bubble
whenever I want to or I feel like I have
to.
But here's the catch. For AI to toggle
its superpower between exploitation and
exploration, we need to incentivize it
to do so.
Merely asking it to be more creative or
help you become more adventurous isn't
going to do the trick.
In most cases, it will still default to
the tried and tested output because it
craves that clap on the shoulder.
So, instead of punishing AI every time
it takes a swing and misses, we need to
start rewarding it for taking smart
swings.
For making bets that are a little bold,
a little unusual perhaps, but still
grounded in what it knows about us.
AI doesn't have to throw darts in the
dark. It can take informed risks. It can
help us optimize our exploration.
And when it does, we should treat it as
a success, not a failure.
Now, this isn't about desserts or
playlists. This is about preserving what
makes us uniquely, messily, and
gloriously human.
It's your random passion for ET
memorabilia, your weird detour into
geocaching, or your stubborn preference
for a stick shift car.
It's about all the contradictions that
AI can't quite explain and the beauty of
us being just a little weird once in a
while.
And if we believe that human complexity
is worth preserving, then the time to
act is now.
Because we're at this inflection point
where AI is no longer just recommending,
but starting to act on our behalf.
It's choosing, not suggesting.
And that's where the stakes become
really existential.
So, next time AI offers you pralines and
cream, maybe say no and ask it to help
you go wild and reckless instead.
Thank you.
>> [music]