In a lab reminiscent of Apple HQ, a figure lies down, receiving his most recent cognitive updates. He wears a sleek transparent exoskeleton, blending the dark look of Bat Man with the metallic of Iron Man. Implemented in his head, we find a brain-computer interface, enhancing his cognitive abilities. His decision-making, once burdened by the human deficiency we used to call hesitation or deliberation, now takes only fractions of seconds. Negative emotions no longer fog his mind; selective neurotransmitters enhance only the positive, fostering beneficial social connections. His vision, augmented to perceive the unseen electromechanical patterns and waves hidden from conventional sight, paints a deeper picture of the world. Garbed in a suit endowed with physical augmentations, he moves with strength and agility that eclipse human norms. Nano implants prolong the inevitable process of aging, a buffer against time's relentless march to entropy. And then, as a penultimate hedge against the finite, the cryo-cabin awaits, a sanctuary to preserve his corporal frame while bequeathing his consciousness to the digital immortality of coded existence. (This paragraph was co-authored by a human.)
Over the past few decades, the concept of human enhancement and the ideology of transhumanism have garnered significant attention. People either passionately embrace and advocate for it or find it overly naïve and dangerous. Initially more of a scientific and sci-fi topic, it evolved into a libertarian doctrine in the 80s and 90s, also gaining substantial support from Silicon Valley. Applied to AI, transhumanists envision a future where AI has the potential to self-enhance and improve (transcend) the human condition by augmenting and outsourcing cognitive capabilities to machine intelligence. However, this also entails a “risk” that we will co-evolve into a species that truly transcends humanity as such (technological singularity).
Nevertheless, in the meantime, the general idea is to cultivate a symbiosis with AI, targeting human goals that have wide applications. In relation to health, AI could, for instance, help personalize diet and medicine, and uncover the secrets of our genetic code to combat disease and enhance longevity. For our planet, algorithms could enhance geo-engineering efforts to sustain a viable planet. Regarding our human senses, according to transhumanists, machine intelligence need not be seen as a replacement but might enhance our aesthetic and cognitive capabilities by revealing the invisible and identifying patterns and correlations beyond our perception, making new sensory configurations possible, similar to the impact of microscopes and telescopes in the past.
Thus, within the paradigm of human enhancement and transhumanism, AI might present some long-term risks. However, the overall tone is optimistic and proactive: it's time to become stronger, better, happier, and most importantly, to extend our lives or even life forever.
In many instances, the relationship between humans and technology presupposes a certain independence of both poles. This is encapsulated perfectly by the tool and machine metaphors we discussed earlier, where technology is perceived as a separate entity, picked up sporadically and then set aside. In the case of a machine, it even runs somewhere quasi-autonomously.
Unsurprisingly, this has profoundly impacted how we conceptually distinct humans and technology also ontologically, as something with a substance of its own. Accordingly, these two ontological poles have often been hierarchically opposed, with the human considered the "natural" substance and the machine or tool regarded as the "artificial.” Nature brings forth nature, but machines have been brought forth by us and are thus not primary but only secondary substances. Thus, at least in the West, we first reify technology as a thing with a certain substance and then de-substantialize it by claiming it is not truly a substance.
However, simultaneously, we are now witnessing the emergence of technologies that forge a more intimate connection with us, fundamentally altering our essence. The “thing” has become part of us, of our substance. Or the other way around, we have become part of the machine or system. The sensation of being incomplete if we forgot our smartphones, is a good example of this deep-seated integration. Without my smartphone, I’m only half human we could say. This does not even have to be necessarily invasive tech such as wearables. Digital technologies, in particular, have ushered in a spectrum of innovations that closely intertwine with our physical and mental fabric.
Consequently, these technological advancements have also opened up new ways of thinking about technology. In one of these new discourses, wherein humans evolve into beings of enhanced capability through the aid of technology, we can discover the core of transhumanist philosophy. It shares the same premise as the metaphor of the deficient animal we discussed earlier, namely that humans are artificial by nature. However, given their distinct historical and cultural contexts—transhumanism emerged mainly in the US during the second half of the twentieth century, while German Philosophical Anthropology developed in the early twentieth century—it is important to distinguish between them.
Transhumanism is usually understood as a praxis and intellectual position that promotes the idea that humans can and should utilize technology to enhance and expand their capabilities. This idea has been prevalent in various forms, ranging from simple corrections of biological issues (e.g., glasses) to extending sensory perception (e.g., infrared cameras). While critics defend a demarcation between therapy (such as glasses) and enhancement (infrared camera), advocates of transhumanism generally argue such a distinction is arbitrary and meaningless.
A prime focus of transhumanism rests on ideas such as life extension, cryonics to preserve bodies after death, cognitive enhancement off all sorts, bioimplants and brain-computer interfacing, bionic devices that elevate physical capabilities beyond natural limits, and gene therapy for heightened resistance against diseases. All in all, the ideology thus champions the pursuit of longer lives with superior minds and enhanced bodies, mainly investigating sciences such as neuropharmacology, bionics, machine intelligence and artificial life.
Today, we might add, this trajectory also extends to the incorporation of Virtual Reality (VR) and Augmented Reality (AR) into our everyday lives, offering gateways to digital dimensions which are (fairly) free from the constraints of our corporeal being. Here, we flirt with the prospects of transcendence and mind uploading, shedding the mortal coil to venture into realms of endless possibilities, for example in having cybersex. While many today might view the Metaverse as an escape from something more real or original, for many transhumanists it may represent a new realm of existence, offering possibilities beyond our earthly limitations.
At first glance, the concept of the transhuman—exemplified by Hollywood figures like Iron Man and Batman, who lack innate superpowers—appears to challenge the fundamental principles of humanism. Unlike most superheroes who are superhuman by nature, Iron Man and Batman, to whom the Silicon Valley archetype of the Quantified Self is a sort of real life equivalent with his wearables and gadgets, achieve their superhuman abilities through technology. Accordingly, transhumanists argue that there isn't a fixed human nature as the pinnacle of our capabilities; it's a canvas open to technological alterations, extending far beyond restoring normal bodily functions to enhancing them vastly. The sky is the limit: to infinity and beyond, as the transhuman Buzz Lightyear so profoundly declared.
This is also what perhaps frustrates many people when confronted with the ideology. This notion of endlessly pushing the boundaries of human potential, propelled by technological innovations, can sometimes feel like a grandiose American superhero fantasy, in which individuals can construct their superpowers through sheer technical ingenuity.
Like I said, this perspective dovetails to some extent with the previous metaphor of the deficient animal, presenting technology not as a tool but as a fundamental characteristic of human existence. Yet, a closer inspection reveals that transhumanism often adheres more strongly to traditional humanist principles their existential counterparts criticize. On the contrary, transhumanism nurtures a deep faith in science and technology as the conduits to magnify human values and potential. It often retains a substantial allegiance to individual autonomy, freedom, and rationality, all values deeply entrenched in enlightenment thought.
Consequently, we could say envisioning a future where we leverage technology to expand human potential and foster greater health and happiness encapsulates the universal utopian goal of transhumanism since the enlightenment, not beyond it. While the goals are often social, such as alleviating world-wide suffering, this paradigm also has the tendency to leave it to individuals to delineate the contours of this augmented future, often converging with digital self-tracking paradigms like biohacking and the quantified self-movement. In these transhumanist practices, a clear Cartesian dualism also re-emerges, with the body becoming mainly an object subjected to optimization through rigorous intellectual regimens mediated by digital technologies. This pursuit of productivity and wellness turns not only technology but also the body itself into a means in the overarching transhumanist aspiration for self-enhancement.
In contemporary versions, the above concretely translates to a relentless utilitarian pursuit to alleviate age-related afflictions, find genetic remedies for diseases such as malaria or cancer, lift productivity (for example through microdosing), run faster, think better, diminish involuntary distress, and many more enhancements. Again, if you read texts from 18th-century radical enlightenment thinkers, you could definitely make the case that not much has changed but the means.
Accordingly, transhumanists often risk reverting to a more anthropocentric and instrumental view of technology and the body. While they claim to transcend the human condition, they do so in a very humanist way. So, beyond the more common-sense criticism often raised such as physical impossibility, ideas being too costly, or morally non desirable, there is the more fundamental criticism that transhumanism is not truly transcending the human, not truly trans-human. Accordingly, in transhumanism, we often start with a figure of the human and end with an augmented figure of that same human. Technology is simply the effective means that enables and facilitates this enhancement. We reshape ourselves from human into a superhuman. We do not truly transform, but augment.
However, some contemporary transhumanists are aware of these criticisms and contradictions from early advocates and have since reformulated their ideology. This evolution has increasingly blurred the lines between transhumanism and posthumanism, a distinction we will explore further in the upcoming metaphor of the cyborg.
Approaching AI from a transhumanist perspective, one that—in line with the above—regards it as a means for human enhancement, typically results in an optimistic outlook on the technology. In that sense, amidst a myriad of metaphors frequently spotlighting the potential perils of AI, a transhumanist viewpoint offers a refreshing counter-narrative. However, compared to the tool metaphor which also centers around the instrumental stance, it shifts focus away from the commercial prospects or societal advantages AI promises as goals, centering instead on personal self-enhancement. In general, the end goal here isn't to facilitate social change or a new business application; it is about leveraging AI to forge an enhanced version of the human.
Consequently, job replacement, enslavement, or alienation do not capture the full attention here. Perhaps dehumanization, however, not primarily in the moral sense. While many AI narratives emphasize the master-slave dichotomy of humans and machines, the idea of human enhancement pivots instead towards a symbiotic partnership between the two. It dismisses fears of AI overpowering or estranging us, urging instead to foster harmony and collaboration. In the long term, machine intelligence might give rise to a new species beyond our current imagination. However, many transhumanists do not view this as something to regret or prevent. On the contrary, they often see this next phase of evolution as inevitable and, for some, even desirable. Consequently, many have noted the religious and eschatological themes underlying this ostensibly “scientific”, “rational” and “secular” ideology.
We will discuss this further in our last section of metaphors but for now take a step back, to the symbiotic alliance of human and machine intelligence in our digital age. In AI circles, this ideal finds a symbolic representation in the concept of the "centaur". Drawing from the imagery of the centaur—a mythical creature that harmonizes human intelligence with animalistic strength—it promotes a vision of humans and AI working in tandem, creating a force more formidable than either could be individually. This notion finds, for example, practical application in the world of chess, where human-AI pairs are superior to either entity on its own, showcasing the potency of collaborative intelligence.
Beyond the realm of die-hard transhumanists and AI developers, this metaphor that stresses alliances and symbiosis is also becoming increasingly prevalent in everyday life. In healthcare, for example, we can hear people say that AI should not completely replace radiologists in detecting diseases on scans; rather, the combination of a doctor's sensory abilities and ethical dispositions with the pattern recognition of machine intelligence proves superior to either alone. In earth sciences, we cannot detect climate change by ourselves and already rely on sophisticated algorithms to reveal and simulate future trajectories of our ecosystems to conserve them. In warfare, the superpower that most effectively integrates AI into human combat will probably become the most feared.
Consequently, this narrative envisions the rise of various symbiotic AI centaurs, spanning fields such as health, sustainability, and warfare. On a more personal level, it similarly involves becoming a centaur through AI, using machine intelligence as a means for self-enhancement to become healthier, stronger, life longer, act more skilled, and so on. This is the more general path to the superhuman described above.
This concept of partnership emphasizes that we need outsourced intelligence to realize our human potential, while machine intelligence, at least for now, also requires humans to be intelligent. For example, even though generative AI models outperform humans in many tasks, their success relies on extensive data mining and human labeling practices, which are crucial prerequisites. During the subsequent training period, supervised feedback loops are essential to developing their capabilities. Thus, machine intelligence is human intelligence, and the other way around.
In the future, humans might be increasingly excluded from these human-machine feedback loops that constitute artificial intelligence, raising the question of whether this will lead to further symbiotic convergence or instead open a path of divergence between human and machine intelligence. And one step further, if this divergence is something scary or instead hopeful. I guess both, something the Greeks in the tragic age already understood through the spirit of Elpis.
The concepts of symbiosis, alliances, and partnerships sound agreeable and are hard to oppose. However, the question remains what this exactly means and whether the mythological creatures and symbols discussed above are good examples of this. What do Iron Man, Batman, and the AI centaur have in common? The answer might already be apparent. While the AI centaur represents a pragmatic and optimistic sound within the AI debate, of which we could now say that it is strongly rooted in the transhumanist camp, one line of criticism in line with the above section is that it is perpetuating the problematic dualisms of modernity and enlightenment.
For instance, much like the figures of Iron Man and Batman as general metaphors for human enhancement, one could make the case that the AI Centaur stands as a predominantly one-dimensional masculine interpretation of cooperation. It embodies a fusion of rationality — traditionally attributed to men — with sheer brute non-rational animal force as the ideal of humanity, illustrated through its mythical half-horse, half-human constitution. Horse power aligned with human rational thinking. It is not unsurprising then that this wild and unrestrained emblem thrives in the competitive discourse frequently surrounding AI research, championing an agonistic stance against competing AI systems and a spirit eager to outperform and defeat humans in all sorts of tasks. Boys beating other boys.
In today’s digital reality, where Silicon Valley pulls the strings, the AI centaur has the tendency to become the transhuman Iron Man of today’s algorithmic society. Alone, we are fallible and weak, yet, when intertwined with AI, leveraging its vast computational prowess for self-augmentation, we transform into beings of unparalleled might, virtually undefeatable.
Fortunately, we might say, the world is bigger than the Bay Area, and obviously I make a caricature of the AI engineers. Nevertheless, there is some truth in this objection I think, and therefore, in the next section, we will see how the metaphor of the cyborg offers a more feminist counterpart, at least in the way it has been advocated by thinkers such as Donna Harraway.
(This article was co-authored by AI.)
