In a time where technology seems to touch every layer of our lives, the line between assistance and interference is blurring. Artificial Intelligence (AI), once confined to labs and sci-fi imagination, is now woven into the fabric of human expression. With a few taps, it can correct grammar, enhance style, generate replies, and even compose philosophy. But in this growing efficiency lies a question: is ease replacing effort?

The human mind is not only a processing unit. It is a seeker. It fumbles, reflects, connects. It forgets and remembers, stumbles and rises. The journey of thought has never been about the shortest route. It has been about depth, rigor, and the challenge of wrestling with an idea until it transforms the thinker. When machines begin offering us the polished version of that process, do we risk abandoning the struggle that shapes us?

It is tempting to write with the help of algorithms that understand tone, syntax, and coherence. The result feels clean, balanced, and often impressive. Yet the refinement comes from a place that has not lived. It has not doubted. It has not known the heat of confusion or the coolness of clarity born from silence. The question then arises: is a reply that comes instantly from code the same as one born through silence and contemplation?

You may also like to read our previous article on AI and its ethical implications. Click here to read.

Values from Bhartiya Darshans

Indian philosophy values the role of direct experience. Pratyaksha, or direct perception, stands as one of the valid means of knowledge. So does Anumana, inference. But both rely on a living mind, not a pre-trained model. When we begin to outsource even our internal inferences to a non-living system, are we not interrupting the fundamental process of manana, deep reflection?

There is also the concern of perception. In spaces where intellectual inquiry is encouraged, the use of AI-generated text may cast doubts on authenticity. A person may have only used a tool for copyediting, yet the fluency of language may be mistaken as something synthetic. In such cases, does technology not start to corrode the trust between minds trying to meet each other through language?

There is no denying the usefulness of AI. But usefulness alone cannot be the measure of what should be accepted without question. Fire was useful, but had to be contained. The wheel moved civilizations, yet it did not replace the human legs. In the same way, AI can serve, but it cannot replace the human will to know, to ponder, and to err.

Take the example of sacred knowledge. Sanskrit shlokas were preserved not through hard drives but through memory and reverence. They were transmitted orally, refined through intonation and repetition, and passed on across generations not by machines but by the mindful. Would their essence remain intact if a machine were to simply recite or explain them?

Could a model trained on billions of texts truly grasp the bhava in a line from the Upanishads?

AI and Mantras

Can a generated interpretation of a mantra substitute the silent space within where its meaning reveals itself?

When a student, instead of pondering, asks AI for interpretations, is there not a quiet surrender of their inner seeking?

There is also the emerging concern about education. Should children be introduced to AI early, or should they first be allowed to grow in thought, in confusion, in unstructured exploration? If thinking is a muscle, then surely it must be exercised. If understanding is a fire, then it must be lit by friction. AI offers smoothness. But does smoothness build strength?

Here are two perspectives on this. One perspective argues for early exposure, with the right guidance. Just as we teach children to handle fire safely rather than avoid it altogether, perhaps AI too needs careful introduction. But another viewpoint suggests that a child’s mind must first develop its natural faculties. Giving a prompt to AI may generate an answer, but does it generate character?

The development of viveka buddhi, discriminative intelligence, is not instantaneous. It comes with time, with discipline, and with silence. Should we allow tools that may bypass this process to enter the learning space too soon?

There is also a cultural layer. If a student writes, “Frame me a reply to this message,” and receives a crafted response from AI, where is the labor of understanding? Where is the awkwardness that leads to growth? The argument here is not against tools but against the erosion of the journey. Jnana Yoga is not the absorption of facts. It is the gradual burning away of ignorance. That burning cannot be outsourced.

It is also reminded that when we lift weights, we grow stronger. The pain is the process. In the same way, thinking deeply, even uncomfortably, builds intellectual and moral fiber. AI offers answers, but it does not offer growth. That comes from deliberate engagement with the unknown, not pre-packaged conclusions.

AI and it’s bias nature

Along with these, concerns of fairness and bias also emerges. When AI refuses to joke about one religious figure while freely offering jokes about another, it reflects the partialities in the data it is trained on. These are not just technical gaps. They point toward deeper ethical asymmetries. If data is biased, and AI is based on data, then where is the neutrality?

The need for regulation is evident. But more than regulation by policy, there is a deeper call for inner discipline. Every tool in the hands of an undisciplined mind becomes either a crutch or a weapon. The mind must first be taught when to use, when not to use, how long to keep, and when to let go.

This echoes the principle of yukti, right application, so central to Indian traditions.

This also brings us to the theme of responsibility. Can we trust children, still growing in thought and emotion, to use AI wisely? Or are we, in the name of empowerment, burdening them with a decision too heavy for their current stage? Responsibility without maturity can lead to misuse. Exposing young minds to a technology they cannot yet critically assess may shape habits that are difficult to reverse.

Some parallels

Even the parallel with Siddhartha Gautama’s protected upbringing is not misplaced here. Shielding him from suffering did not prevent his transformation. But what if his father had prepared him for the realities outside the palace, instead of concealing them? Would Siddhartha have become a renunciate king, one who understands the world and guides from within it?

Similarly, the answer may not be to hide AI from children. But nor is it wise to place it freely in their hands. The middle path, in this case, is awareness. Teaching them not just how to use AI, but when to question it. Not just how to prompt it, but how to reflect beyond it.

Technology is here to stay. That much is certain. But its integration into the fabric of consciousness must be gradual, deliberate, and embedded in the larger aim of human evolution. If it begins to substitute rather than support our thinking, then it becomes a problem. If it begins to speak instead of letting us speak, then it silences our inner voice.

Self-realization, ultimately, is the only real protection. A policy may guide, a school may instruct, but unless there is inner clarity, no amount of regulation will suffice. Children must be guided not just through controls but through conversations that awaken their ability to choose. But choice is only possible when there is awareness of the consequences.

We must also ask: who should bear the responsibility of making decisions about AI usage? Is it fair to expect young users to make these decisions on their own? Should not parents, educators, and cultural mentors create the initial scaffolding of judgment? Can we expect discipline to arise without practice?

Out of sight is often out of mind. Introducing AI before the mind is ready is not empowerment. It is exposure without anchoring. A child’s mind, pulled by the senses and distracted by stimulation, does not naturally lean toward discernment. That has to be cultivated.

The goal is not to reject AI, but to remain more human while using it. Not to silence it, but to keep our inner voice louder. The tools may evolve. But the nature must remain in charge.

Disclaimer: Blogs are generated from the thoughts/views shared by individual group members of the Global IITans for Quantum Consciousness (GI4QC) Forum’s WhatsApp groups further curated using Gen AI tools. The chats are of a general nature and have been carefully curated and reviewed to the greatest extent possible before publishing. Feedback and queries can be directed to arpankaudinya@gmail.com and/or info@gi4qc.org.