Why do people suddenly start reacting like chimpanzees the moment AI enters the conversation, instinctively rejecting it before they even try to understand it? What, then, should we make of the cosmetic surgery commonly undergone by Korean idols? There are also AI-generated figures such as Nia Noir who are active as influencers.
Of course, technologies such as deepfake videos can be dangerous enough to influence politics, so we need to equip ourselves with a certain level of knowledge and media literacy. Yet despite this, why do people revert to primitive reactions instead of learning about new technologies?
Think carefully about this question from three different perspectives and summarize your response in an approximately 800-word essay.ใใ
#ChatGPT
responce from AI
I believe the main reason people instinctively resist AI is not simply that it is convenient, but that it has begun to enter territories that human beings have secretly regarded as sacred.
When calculators perform calculations for us, few people say that our humanity is being taken away. When washing machines replace manual labor, no one seriously questions whether they possess a soul. Yet when AI begins to create images, write texts, compose music, and speak through humanlike faces, the conversation suddenly turns to questions such as: What is authentic? What is effort? What is a soul? In other words, part of the anger directed at AI is not really criticism of the technology itself. It is fear that the narratives supporting oneโs sense of value are beginning to collapse.
A similar reaction occurred in Japan when Irasutoya became widespread. Its illustrations could be used freely and appeared everywhereโin schools, government offices, businesses, and public noticesโuntil the same familiar faces seemed to occupy the entire social landscape. The anxiety was not only that illustrators might lose work. There was also something unsettling about the idea that images, once believed to contain the individuality of their creator, could be replaced by standardized and convenient visual symbols. Today, however, Irasutoya has become part of the background of Japanese society, blending naturally even into the visual world of those who once criticized it. Resistance to new technology often ends not through an ethical resolution, but simply through familiarity.
There is a similar contradiction in the way we think about cosmetic surgery. The faces of Korean idols are produced not only through surgery, but also through makeup, lighting, photography, digital retouching, performance, and training. Even so, we tend to regard them as โrealโ because there is a living human being behind the image. By contrast, we call AI influencers โfakeโ because they have no physical body. But are the figures we actually love, admire, and desire really the unedited bodies themselves? Or are they the carefully constructed images presented to us on a screen?
I do not believe that AI and cosmetic surgery are exactly the same. A person who has undergone surgery still has a body, experiences pain, lives a life, and exists as an individual who can be held responsible. With an AI persona, however, if the operator or company behind it remains hidden, it may become impossible to know who is responsible for what it says or does. This is a crucial difference. The real question, therefore, should not be whether something is โartificial,โ but who created it, who profits from it, who bears responsibility for it, and whether the audience is able to recognize it as an artificial construction.
The same applies to deepfake videos. The danger is not merely that fake material exists. More frightening than people believing fabricated evidence is the possibility that they may begin to dismiss everything as โprobably AI,โ thereby invalidating genuine evidence as well. In a society where powerful figures can reject inconvenient footage by claiming that it was generated by AI, the technology becomes not only a tool for creating lies, but also a shield for escaping the truth.
Even so, people often refuse to learn and instead reject AI instinctively because learning requires them to update themselves. It is not merely a matter of learning how to use a new tool. They may also have to redefine what they have long understood by words such as โart,โ โtalent,โ โidentity,โ โevidence,โ and even โhuman.โ This process is difficult and painful. At times, it can relativize the value of oneโs past efforts. That is why many people decide whether AI is an enemy or an ally before they make any attempt to understand it.
My answer is this:
Resistance to AI does not arise from stupidity alone. It is a deeply human responseโan attempt to protect the boundaries of the self. But the moment people mistake that reflex for genuine criticism or ethical judgment, they truly begin to โturn into chimpanzees.โ
There is nothing wrong with feeling afraid. Fear is, in fact, a natural response. But we must remain willing to engage with the technology, learn about it, question it, and continue revising our own judgments while still carrying that fear. Those who blindly celebrate AI and those who reject it completely arrive at the same place the moment they stop thinking. What the age of AI demands is not a simple choice between acceptance and opposition, but the ability to avoid becoming intoxicated either by convenience or by disgust.