When people ask me why I study history when there is a YouTube video available on every topic, I start wondering why research is taught in universities when artificial intelligence already has answers ready for every question. And despite calling humans the “best of creation”, I begin to lose faith in their sense of supremacy.
Yesterday, my son said to me, “Mum, I found your name. You are a Luddite.” That is, a person who dislikes mechanical and technological progress. When I researched further, I learned that the Luddites were British craftsmen and weavers who, during the European Industrial Revolution, raised their voices in protest against the growing use of machines and were involved in considerable destruction. It surprised me that even in old times there were people like me who were against dependence on machines. They must have been worried, just like me, that if machines took over human work, what would humans do?
I have no problem with progress and innovation; rather, my concern is about those conveniences that are casting a shadow over humanity. And yes, there is also the fear that machines are now beginning to replace humans. Automated billing counters in supermarkets are becoming common, and no one even bothers to ask for directions anymore; they simply enter their destination into their phones and reach it. People travel together on a bus from Lahore to Multan and do not even ask the name of the person sitting next to them; everyone is busy with their smartphones. Devices are becoming our co-travellers, our advisors, our teachers, our travel guides and, unfortunately, our companions.
Children these days seek advice from AI instead of discussing their confusions with their parents. They believe in apps rather than trusting their friends.
It annoys me when I have to take out freshly fried pakoras and there is no newspaper in the house. Devices have become our newspapers, magazines, dictionaries and tea companions. Then there is the excessive entertainment available to young people almost for free; everyone has their own screen. The younger generation is unfamiliar with the etiquette of conversation; they have devices plugged into their ears and their eyes fixed on screens. When you talk to them, they reply without taking their eyes off the device.
If there is a university project, they simply speak and have whatever they want written down. We no longer even feel the need to use our own thinking.
We already depend on machines physically, and now even the effort of using our minds is disappearing. We no longer bother to look up meanings in a dictionary. Dictionaries lie waiting in libraries for someone to benefit from them. When something is written on the whiteboard, students take a photo on their phones instead of writing it down. The new timetable is now shared in WhatsApp groups. During an argument, instead of mediating, people prefer to capture the moment through the camera’s eye. If there is an exam in the morning, students simply glance through the slides once. Spelling and writing mistakes have become common because children read everything from screens.
My mother used to say, “Walk the path of righteousness, even if it is long.” In contrast, this fast-paced progress has turned shortcuts into a common habit. I tell Generation Z in my very first class that I am not an Instagram reel that can simply be scrolled past. I will only finish after speaking for a full hour and a half. In this era, when finding even one listener is a blessing, I am grateful for my profession, due to which forty or fifty individuals are compelled to listen to my “wisdom”.