Dion Hines | Managing Forum Editor

One fall morning, I opened Instagram to find a new feature, Meta’s Muse, a personal artificial intelligence agent. As an adorable round avatar waved at me from my phone, I was simultaneously charmed and unnerved. There has been intense coverage of all things new and alarming about AI: the rise of LLMs, sprawling data center construction, growing energy consumption, security breaches, and now the emergence of agentic AI, but despite my skepticism and mistrust, I found Muse quite cute. I was initially tempted to see what it could do. 

Meta’s Muse is promoted as an on-demand AI butler primed to handle the busy work that bogs us down. According to Meta, Muse is capable of ordering Amazon shipments, booking restaurant or travel reservations, and even making “suggestions unprompted” to anticipate users’ desires. This may sound appealing to those of us who are overworked, underpaid, and tempted by big tech’s guarantees of even greater convenience. Still, the infiltration of AI into all facets of our life through whatever avenue can be profited on belies a more unnerving reality: The free time we gain from Muse, ChatGPT, and Claude has a steep cost. As cute, anthropomorphized programs wedge themselves between us and other humans, we risk losing our ability to tolerate inconvenient or unplanned social interaction and forgo the possibility of making connections we didn’t anticipate. 

With the reality of rampant social media overconsumption, Meta’s intentional utilization of cuddly, disarming character design strikes me as negligent at best and detrimental at worst. Meta has a track record of creating addictive technology. Consequently, I believe using cuteness to draw people in distracts from the reality that giving over all our little errands and responsibilities to Muse will ultimately cause us to miss out on the face-to-face interactions that are integral to building relationships. Visits to the post office, trips to the grocery store, and the small encounters along the way, could practically disappear. And, to top it off, the time we’re promised will free up will more than likely go back to the platforms we’re trying to escape. 

A few weeks ago, I visited the campus FedEx and through an unexpectedly enjoyable conversation, the importance of human interaction became clear. While picking up a print, I decided to try and strike up a conversation with the attendant, Mr. Faruk. Spending a few extra minutes with another human being, getting to know more about them, and learning about the printing process taught me more than just the difference between printing on paper, plastic, or fabric. It gave me a chance to slow down, be present in my surroundings, and make a connection that I would’ve missed out on if I’d delegated it to an AI agent and scrolled on my phone. 

At WashU, we are encouraged to be well-equipped with skills to interact with the cutting edge of technology. WashU has invested heavily in AI adoption and institutionalization as seen in “Claude for Education,” “ChatGPT Edu”, and Gemini initiatives that make AI use even more tempting if not incentivized. I would be lying if I claimed to hate AI or deny its utility in day-to-day tasks. Even so, I realize that the pervasiveness of AI in the classroom, on social media, and everywhere else may ultimately prevent us from spending time with other people. As AI becomes inextricable from educational institutions, career expectations, and everyday life, it’s crucial to leave space and patience for the unforeseen interpersonal interactions that bring us closer as a community. 

As tempting as the promise of even more convenience is and however cute its marketing may be, I implore you all to reflect on the ways spending more time with AI is ultimately sacrificing the little moments that bring us together. That cute digital character is unlikely to generate the happiness a serendipitous interaction with another human being can. So as I delete Instagram, again, I look forward to the people I’ll meet and the conversations I’ll have as I mull through the errands of another busy day.