In my previous post, I argued that the mathematical community needs to respond actively, continuously and bravely to the changes brought by AI. Here, I would like to take a step back and say a little more about the spirit in which I wrote those words.

It is hard to share a sense of optimism without sounding detached from the very real fears people are experiencing, especially when writing from the relative comfort and security of my own position. But I want to do exactly that, even though I have no clear picture of where we are heading and I deeply share many of the fears that others do.

I cannot predict how far machine capabilities will go or how quickly they will develop. I do not have a secret list of things that humans, and theoretical computer scientists among them, will always do better. But I find hope in the people around me and the incredibly creative community I am part of. Theoretical computer science has shown remarkable adaptability and relevance through the decades. I believe that we can and will bring that same creativity to shaping our own future. And this belief extends well beyond our field, and well beyond scientific research.

I worry that, out of fear of losing our agency, we are already giving some of it away. When we describe the fate of our field, or of humanity, as a predictable consequence of the next technological breakthrough, we leave our own choices out of the story. We imagine machines changing radically while the social arrangements around them remain fixed and then treat the resulting picture as inevitable.

Our political, social, and economic institutions have changed throughout history, through human choices and struggles. They will change again. We can find new ways to distribute resources and make room for meaningful human existence. Technology changes the circumstances in which we make choices, sometimes dramatically. It does not relieve us of making them.

Part of our commitment should be to ensure that the power to shape our future is widely shared, including with those who currently have the least say in it. At the same time, our ability to find meaning does not depend entirely on how much control we have over our circumstances. The capacity to adapt also belongs to individuals.

In recent months, I have been reminding myself of Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, and of his account of finding purpose in some of the least humane circumstances imaginable. What stays with me is the resilience of the human capacity to find meaning: in caring for another person, in taking responsibility, in deciding that something remains worth doing even when so much lies beyond our control.

I do not know how we will find our way through the changes ahead. But there may be choices and wonderful possibilities ahead that we have not yet imagined. I find reasons to believe in our ability, as individuals and communities, to discover meaningful ways forward, together.

And this is something we need to keep doing now. We cannot postpone the search for purpose until the future becomes clear. What is worth understanding, creating, or protecting today? What can you find purpose in, even while so much remains uncertain? And how can you support a fellow human in their own struggles?

So, in the spirit of living and struggling in the moment, let me make a sharp transition from Frankl to the film version of Tolkien, and offer Aragorn’s words at the Black Gate of Mordor, with a couple of small adjustments:

My brothers and sisters,

I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.

A day may come when our courage fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day.

An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of humans comes crashing down, but it is not this day!

This day we fight!

By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand.