Merriam-Webster’s word of the year – authentic – reflects growing concerns over AI’s ability to deceive and dehumanize

 

According to the publisher’s editor-at-large, 2023 represented ‘a kind of crisis of authenticity.’ lambada/E+ via Getty Images Roger J. Kreuz, University of Memphis

When Merriam-Webster announced that its word of the year for 2023 was “authentic,” it did so with over a month to go in the calendar year.

Even then, the dictionary publisher was late to the game.

In a lexicographic form of Christmas creep, Collins English Dictionary announced its 2023 word of the year, “AI,” on Oct. 31. Cambridge University Press followed suit on Nov. 15 with “hallucinate,” a word used to refer to incorrect or misleading information provided by generative AI programs.

At any rate, terms related to artificial intelligence appear to rule the roost, with “authentic” also falling under that umbrella.

AI and the authenticity crisis

For the past 20 years, Merriam-Webster, the oldest dictionary publisher in the U.S., has chosen a word of the year – a term that encapsulates, in one form or another, the zeitgeist of that past year. In 2020, the word was “pandemic.” The next year’s winner? “Vaccine.”

“Authentic” is, at first glance, a little less obvious.

According to the publisher’s editor-at-large, Peter Sokolowski, 2023 represented “a kind of crisis of authenticity.” He added that the choice was also informed by the number of online users who looked up the word’s meaning throughout the year.

A 1906 print ad for Webster’s International Dictionary advertised itself an an authoritative clearinghouse for all things English – an authentic, reliable source. Jay Paull/Getty Images

The word “authentic,” in the sense of something that is accurate or authoritative, has its roots in French and Latin. The Oxford English Dictionary has identified its usage in English as early as the late 14th century.

And yet the concept – particularly as it applies to human creations and human behavior – is slippery.

Is a photograph made from film more authentic than one made from a digital camera? Does an authentic scotch have to be made at a small-batch distillery in Scotland? When socializing, are you being authentic – or just plain rude – when you skirt niceties and small talk? Does being your authentic self mean pursuing something that feels natural, even at the expense of cultural or legal constraints?

The more you think about it, the more it seems like an ever-elusive ideal – one further complicated by advances in artificial intelligence.

How much human touch?

Intelligence of the artificial variety – as in nonhuman, inauthentic, computer-generated intelligence – was the technology story of the past year.

At the end of 2022, OpenAI publicly released ChatGPT 3.5, a chatbot derived from so-called large language models. It was widely seen as a breakthrough in artificial intelligence, but its rapid adoption led to questions about the accuracy of its answers.

The chatbot also became popular among students, which compelled teachers to grapple with how to ensure their assignments weren’t being completed by ChatGPT.

Issues of authenticity have arisen in other areas as well. In November 2023, a track described as the “last Beatles song” was released. “Now and Then” is a compilation of music originally written and performed by John Lennon in the 1970s, with additional music recorded by the other band members in the 1990s. A machine learning algorithm was recently employed to separate Lennon’s vocals from his piano accompaniment, and this allowed a final version to be released.

But is it an authentic “Beatles” song? Not everyone is convinced.

Advances in technology have also allowed the manipulation of audio and video recordings. Referred to as “deepfakes,” such transformations can make it appear that a celebrity or a politician said something that they did not – a troubling prospect as the U.S. heads into what is sure to be a contentious 2024 election season.

Writing for The Conversation in May 2023, education scholar Victor R. Lee explored the AI-fueled authenticity crisis.

Our judgments of authenticity are knee-jerk, he explained, honed over years of experience. Sure, occasionally we’re fooled, but our antennae are generally reliable. Generative AI short-circuits this cognitive framework.

“That’s because back when it took a lot of time to produce original new content, there was a general assumption … that it only could have been made by skilled individuals putting in a lot of effort and acting with the best of intentions,” he wrote.

“These are not safe assumptions anymore,” he added. “If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, everyone will need to consider that it may not have actually hatched from an egg.”

Though there seems to be a general understanding that human minds and human hands must play some role in creating something authentic or being authentic, authenticity has always been a difficult concept to define.

So it’s somewhat fitting that as our collective handle on reality has become ever more tenuous, an elusive word for an abstract ideal is Merriam-Webster’s word of the year.

Roger J. Kreuz, Associate Dean and Professor of Psychology, University of Memphis

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

Stoicism and spirituality: A philosopher explains how more Americans’ search for meaning is turning them toward the classics

 

Web communities have helped the ancient philosophy of Stoicism find fans in a new generation. utah778/iStock via Getty Images Plus

Stoicism may be having a renaissance. For centuries, the ancient philosophy that originated in Greece and spread across the Roman Empire was more or less treated as extinct – with the word “stoic” hanging on as shorthand for someone unemotional. But today, with the help of the internet, it’s gaining ground: One of the biggest online communities, The Daily Stoic, claims to have an email following of over 750,000 subscribers.

Perhaps it’s not so surprising. The United States’ current political climate has parallels to the last few centuries B.C. in ancient Rome, home of notable Stoics like the the philosopher Epictetus, a former slave, and the emperor Marcus Aurelius. During this period of instability, including the fall of the Roman Republic, Stoicism helped its practitioners find community, meaning and tranquility.

Today, too, society faces widespread feelings of isolation, depression and anxiety. Meanwhile, more and more people are looking for answers outside of mainstream religion. According to a 2022 Gallup Poll, 21% of Americans now say they have no religious affiliation.

Riding this resurgence of interest in Stoicism, I designed a college philosophy class that covers both theory and practice. When I ask students why they enrolled, I hear not only a genuine interest in the subject but also a desire to find meaning, purpose and personal development.

Core principles

Ancient Stoicism aimed to be a complete philosophy encompassing ethics, physics and logic. Yet most modern Stoics focus primarily on ethics, and they typically adopt four Stoic principles.

The first is that virtue is the only or highest good, including the cardinal virtues of wisdom, temperance, courage and justice. Everything apart from virtue – including wealth, health and reputation – might be nice to have, but they do not directly contribute to human flourishing.

Marcus Aurelius: not just an emperor but a Stoic philosopher. Bibi Saint-Pol/Glyptothek/Wikimedia

Second, people ought to live in accordance with nature or reason. This principle reflects the Stoic belief that the universe exhibits a rational order, so we ought to align our beliefs and actions with eternal principles. Living in accordance with nature also reveals the interconnectedness of all things, showing how humans are part of a larger whole.

Third, a person can control only their own actions – not external events. Epictetus laid out this dichotomy in the opening sentence of The Enchiridion, a collection of his core teachings compiled by his student Arrian: “Things in our control are opinion, pursuit, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever are our own actions. Things not in our control are body, property, reputation, command, and, in one word, whatever are not our own actions.”

The fourth principle is that thoughts about external events are often the source of discontentment or distress – a view that has influenced modern cognitive behavioral therapy. Again, this idea comes directly from Epictetus: “Men are disturbed, not by things, but by the principles and notions which they form concerning things.”

Taken together, these principles form the bedrock of modern Stoicism, which aims to provide a coherent philosophy of life. Its hope is that once the practitioner accepts they are not entirely in control, they start building resilience and reducing anxiety. Not only is each individual the architect of their emotional life, but people can shape their own judgments in ways that are conducive to greater inner peace.

Stoicism in practice

In Discourses, Epictetus unequivocally states that study is not enough – in order to become virtuous, a person must couple study with practice. “In theory, there is nothing to restrain us from drawing the consequences of what we have been taught,” he noted, “whereas in life there are many things that pull us off course.”

In other words, philosophy is not only an intellectual endeavor but a practical and spiritual one: a way of life designed to move practitioners toward the Stoic conception of the good. Learning to cultivate core Stoic principles involves certain spiritual exercises.

My class incorporates a variety of these exercises so students can get a taste of Stoicism in practice. One is the “view from above,” which encourages the practitioner to imagine their life and certain situations from a bird’s-eye view, putting the insignificance of their current troubles in perspective.

Another is “negative visualization”: contemplating the absence of something we value. Instead of worrying about losing something, a person intentionally meditates on its absence, with the intention of fostering gratitude and contentment. When doing this exercise in class, students have imagined the loss of a possession, a scholarship or even a beloved pet.

An illustration of Epictetus, likely drawn by William Sonmans and engraved by Michael Burghers, that served as frontispiece for a translation of Epictetus’ Enchiridion, printed in 1715. John Adams Library at the Boston Public Library/Aristeas/Wikimedia

A third exercise is journaling to plan and review one’s day. Reflecting on thoughts and actions allows a more objective, rational way to judge whether someone is living in accordance with their principles.

Once the exercises are incorporated with theory, Stoicism can become a type of spiritual project. As Epictetus wrote, “For just as wood is the material of the carpenter, and bronze that of the sculptor, the art of living has each individual’s own life as its material.”

The way of the prokopton

So what does it mean to be a practicing Stoic – a “prokopton,” in Greek?

For both ancient and modern practitioners, Stoicism is more than a set of abstract ideas. It is a set of guiding principles that permeate all aspects of one’s life. The goal is progress, not perfection – and exploring Stoic ideas alongside others is encouraged.

Today, there are at least three relatively robust Stoic communities online: The Daily Stoic, Modern Stoicism and the College of Stoic Philosophers.

By having dedicated communities, a guiding framework and distinctive spiritual exercises, parallels between Stoicism and many mainstream religions are undeniable. For modern people looking for such things, Stoicism may serve as a surrogate or complement to mainstream religion. People today tend to find the original Stoics’ notions about physics and theology implausible, but apart from those ideas, the core principles of modern Stoicism can be palatable to people who identify with contemporary faith traditions – or none.

The ancient Greeks believed that a philosophy of life is critical for human flourishing. Without a guiding ethos, they feared, individuals are likely to lead unstructured and unproductive lives, to pursue superficial pleasures and to feel that their lives lack purpose. Stoicism offered a path for some to follow – then, and now.

Sandra Woien, Associate Teaching Professor, Arizona State University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

What Taoism teaches about the body and being healthy

 

Daoism, which emphasizes harmony with nature, can inform individuals on their relationship with the environment. Ma Yuan 'Walking on Path in Spring.' National Palace Museum via Wikimedia Commons

New Year’s resolutions often come with a renewed investment in making our bodies healthier. Many may take to the newest diet plan or sign up for a health club membership, but it is worth taking some time to consider what actually constitutes a healthy, happy body.

Taoist visions of the body form a central part of my research. Taoism, (also spelled Daoism) an indigenous tradition of China, understands humans to be an integral part of the larger cosmos.

Rituals and bodily techniques are used to align one’s individual body with surrounding social and natural environments. These concepts of the body can inform individuals on their relationship with our environment and on what it means to be healthy.

Taoism, the body and cosmos

Accounts of Taoism begin sometime in the fourth century B.C.E., starting with the text “Tao Te Ching,” attributed to Lao Tzu. Though scholars do not believe there was an actual person called Lao Tzu, this figure, whose name means “old master” or “old child,” would become the model for bodily practice. Taoists would later develop rituals designed to mirror their body with that of Lao Tzu’s as a way to align themselves with the Tao, or the source of all things.

Taoist texts described Lao Tzu’s body as a kind of map for the entire cosmos, visualizing their own individual body like a smaller version of the entire cosmos, and likening the entire cosmos to a larger mirror of one’s own body. Bringing one’s body in alignment with the cosmos was understood to grant Taoists the ability to transform the environment around them by transforming their own bodies.

What happened in the body was understood to have an effect on the entire universe, just as the environment has an effect on one’s body.

Physical exercises for longevity

Some of the earliest examples of Taoist practices describe a series of body movements and postures to help align one’s body with their environment.

Historian of Taoism, Isabelle Robinet, notes that dating back to the second century B.C.E., the physical exercises were used to help cultivate one’s qi, or breath, in order to better achieve harmony with the patterns of nature, nourish one’s health and increase longevity. Contemporary practices such as qigong continue to be informed by these concepts to this day.

Reconstruction of a silk painting from the second century B.C.E showing early ritualized bodily postures, excavated at Mawangdui, Hunan Province, China. Wellcome Images, a website operated by Wellcome Trust, a global charitable foundation based in the United Kingdom., CC BY-SA

In addition to practicing bodily techniques, early Taoists also sought out a connection to the environment through alchemy, a process of mixing rare natural elements together to create a refined substance that they believed was an elixir of health. According to renowned scholar of Taoist alchemy Fabrizio Pregadio, practitioners sought out rare and powerful elements from the earth, which they mixed and consumed in an attempt to attain longevity or even immortality.

Integrating with the outer landscape

By the eighth century C.E., Taoists would look inward for these alchemical benefits. Taoist masters developed meditative and bodily practices called “neidan,” or inner alchemy, to help replicate the landscape within their own body.

Rather than seeking out rare elements in the earth, inner alchemy taught how to find the power to refine one’s vital essences from within one’s own body.

The Taoist inner landscape diagram of the human body. Nikolaj Potanin from Russia via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Fully developed ritual programs instructed Taoists to undertake an inner journey within themselves. Along the way, they would visualize their old self encountering temples tucked away within lush mountain forests, discover hidden grottoes, and even find divine figures mixing elixirs of immortality.

This internal climb was believed to eventually lead one’s old self to the peak located at the crown of one’s head. From there, Taoists would visualize a new immortal self emerging out from atop their skull.

Taoist priests and community

This concept of a body fully integrated with the cosmos informs the logic for how contemporary Taoist priests conduct rituals to benefit the broader community today.

According to Kristofer Schipper, a scholar of Taoist ritual, the body is seen as the primary medium that can fulfill their duty to reconnect the local community with the original source of the cosmos – the Dao itself.

Taoist priests will envision a different kind of journey, this time across the cosmos but still all within their own body. They seek an audience with the highest gods of Taoism, known as the Three Pure Ones, to whom they will report the merits of the local community.

It is understood that in so doing, the Taoist priest helps reaffirm the connection between the people and the Tao itself. Thus, the community becomes integrated into the “Taoist Body.”

Taoists performing a ritual at Longhushan, sacred mountain of Taoism, Jiangxi Province, China.

While an audience with the purest forms of the Tao is reserved only for trained Taoist priests, notions of the Taoist body ultimately provide a way for everyone to understand one’s body to be transformed both inside and out.

As the new year brings new resolutions for healthier bodies, we may gain from added perspectives on what transforming our body can mean – not just for ourselves, but for those around us.

Michael Naparstek, Lecturer in Religious Studies, University of Tennessee

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.