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Scroll.in
3 days ago
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Aristotle would scoff at Mark Zuckerberg's suggestion that AI can solve the loneliness epidemic
Mark Zuckerberg recently suggested that AI chatbots could combat social isolation by serving as 'friends' for people experiencing loneliness. He cited statistics that the average American has fewer than three friends but yearns for as many as 15. He was close: According to a 2021 report from the Survey Center on American Life, about half of Americans have fewer than four close friends. Zuckerberg then posited that AI could help bridge this gap by providing constant, personalized interactions. 'I would guess that over time we will find the vocabulary as a society to be able to articulate why that is valuable,' he added. Zuckerberg explaining how Meta is creating personalized AI friends to supplement your real ones: 'The average American has 3 friends, but has demand for 15.' — Roman Helmet Guy (@romanhelmetguy) April 30, 2025 Loneliness and social disconnection are serious problems. But can AI really be a solution? Might relying on AI for emotional support create a false sense of connection and possibly exacerbate feelings of isolation? And while AI can simulate certain aspects of companionship, doesn't it lack the depth, empathy and mutual understanding inherent to human friendship? Researchers have started exploring these questions. But as a moral philosopher, I think it's worth turning to a different source: the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle. Though it might seem odd to consult someone who lived over 2,000 years ago on questions of modern technology, Aristotle offers enduring insights about friendships – and which ones are particularly valuable. More important than spouses, kids or money In his philosophical text Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle maintained that true friendship is essential for 'eudaimonia,' a Greek word that is typically translated as 'flourishing' or 'well-being.' For Aristotle, friends are not just nice to have – they're a central component of ethical living and essential for human happiness and fulfillment. 'Without friends, no one would choose to live,' he writes, 'though he had all other goods.' A solitary existence, even one of contemplation and intellectual achievement, is less complete than a life with friends. Friendship contributes to happiness by providing emotional support and solidarity. It is through friendship that individuals can cultivate their virtues, feel a sense of security and share their accomplishments. Empirical evidence seems to support the connection between friendship and eudaimonia. A 2023 Pew Center research report found that 61 per cent of adults in the US say having close friends is essential to living a fulfilling life – a higher proportion than those who cited marriage, children or money. A British study of 6,500 adults found that those who had regular interactions with a wide circle of friends were more likely to have better mental health and be happier. And a meta-analysis of nearly 150 studies found that a lack of close friends can increase the risk of death as much as smoking, drinking or obesity. Different friends for different needs But the benefit of friendship that Aristotle focuses on the most is the role that it plays in the development of virtue. The first tier is what he calls 'friendships of utility,' or a friendship that is based on mutual benefit. Each party is primarily concerned with what they can gain from the other. These might be colleagues at work or neighbours who look after each other's pets when one of them is on vacation. The problem with these friendships is that they are often fleeting and dissolve once one person stops benefiting from the relationship. The second is 'friendships of pleasure,' which are friendships based on shared interests. These friendships can also be transient, depending on how long the shared interests last. Passionate love affairs, people belonging to the same book club and fishing buddies all fall into this category. This type of friendship is important, since you tend to enjoy your passions more when you can share them with another person. But this is still not the highest form of friendship. According to Aristotle, the third and strongest form of friendship is a 'virtuous friendship.' This is based on mutual respect for each other's virtues and character. Two people with this form of friendship value each other for who they truly are and share a deep commitment to the well-being and moral development of one another. These friendships are stable and enduring. In a virtuous friendship, each individual helps the other become better versions of themselves through encouragement, moral guidance and support. As Aristotle writes: 'Perfect friendship is the friendship of men who are good and alike in virtue. … Now those who wish well to their friends for their sake are most truly friends; for they do this by reason of their own nature and not incidentally; therefore their friendship lasts as long as they are good – and goodness is an enduring thing.' In other words, friendships rooted in virtue not only bring happiness and fulfilment but also facilitate personal growth and moral development. And it happens naturally within the context of the relationship. According to Aristotle, a virtuous friend provides a mirror in which one can reflect upon their own actions, thoughts and decisions. When one friend demonstrates honesty, generosity or compassion, the other can learn from these actions and be inspired to cultivate these virtues in themselves. No nourishment for the soul So, what does this mean for AI friends? By Aristotle's standards, AI chatbots – however sophisticated – cannot be true friends. They may be able to provide information that helps you at work, or engage in lighthearted conversation about your various interests. But they fundamentally lack qualities that define a virtuous friendship. AI is incapable of mutual concern or genuine reciprocity. While it can be programmed to simulate empathy or encouragement, it does not truly care about the individual – nor does it ask anything of its human users. Moreover, AI cannot engage in the shared pursuit of the good life. Aristotle's notion of friendship involves a shared journey on the path to eudaimonia, during which each person helps another live wisely and well. This requires the kind of moral development that only human beings, who face real ethical challenges and make real decisions, can undergo. I think it is best to think of AI as a tool. Just like having a good shovel or rake can improve your quality of life, having the rake and the shovel do not mean you no longer need any friends – nor do they replace the friends whose shovels and rakes you used to borrow. While AI may offer companionship in a limited and functional sense, it cannot meet the Aristotelian criteria for virtuous friendship. It may fill a temporary social void, but it cannot nourish the soul. If anything, the rise of AI companions should serve as a reminder of the urgent need to foster real friendships in an increasingly disconnected world.
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Korea Herald
01-04-2025
- Politics
- Korea Herald
[Antara Haldar] How Aristotle can save us
In a 1995 speech outlining his 'Visions for the 21st Century,' the renowned astrophysicist Carl Sagan called attention to the fragility of human civilization, given our infinitesimally small presence within the cosmos. Our future, he warned, depends entirely on our learning to live wisely and humbly together. Clearly, we didn't get the message. Three decades on, our 'pale blue dot' is riven by geopolitical turmoil, and the late 20th-century hope for an ascendant global liberalism has faded. Faced with such radical uncertainty, the best strategy may be to return to basics. And to explore the most profound of all questions — what is the good life? — there is no better guide than Aristotle, whose Politics and Nicomachean Ethics offer a framework that is strikingly relevant for this age of moral confusion and civic fragmentation. Unlike the modern liberal tradition, which exalts individual autonomy, Aristotle began from a different premise: Human beings are not self-contained units, but social animals whose flourishing depends on the cultivation of virtues within a political community. To live well is not simply to do what one wants; rather, it requires the cultivation of character through lifelong education and habituation, and engagement in a shared civic life. Aristotle's perspective stands in stark contrast to the libertarianism that long defined the traditional right (at least until recently) and the expressive identity politics of the left. He reminds us that liberty is not simply the absence of constraint, and that justice is not merely the fair distribution of rights. True freedom, as he saw it, is the capacity to govern oneself wisely and ethically in concert with others; and true justice is found not just in abstract rules, but in practices that enable people to lead lives of purpose, dignity and excellence. Aristotle saw politics not simply as a mechanism for allocating power, but as a means of cultivating virtue (excellence). A well-ordered polity does not just prevent harm; it forms good citizens, by nourishing responsibility, deliberation, courage, moderation and concern for the common good. Contrast this conception with today's world. Our institutions often function like marketplaces of grievance, where attention, status and outrage have the most purchasing power. Our media ecosystems — especially online — are designed to encourage tribalism. Our education systems increasingly avoid speaking of moral formation at all, lest they be accused of politicization. And our politicians have gone from exemplars of public character to its antithesis. From the United States and the United Kingdom to India and Hungary, democracies are struggling not just with polarization but with a deeper malaise: the erosion of civic trust, the collapse of shared narratives, and the loss of public purpose. What Aristotle called eudaimonia — individual flourishing through participation in a just, well-ordered community -- has been replaced by a hollow conception of success, narrowly defined as wealth, media virality, or personal power untethered from responsibility. Embracing an Aristotelian conception of politics and the good life would not mean turning back the clock or ignoring the advances of modern liberal democracy. We rightly value rights, pluralism, and protection against tyranny. But Aristotle reminds us that no political system can thrive without a moral purpose that responds to fundamental questions: What kind of people do we want to become? What kind of character should our institutions cultivate? How do we form citizens capable of exercising true liberty, as opposed to unfettered license? Education, in an Aristotelian register, is not just about accumulating skills or knowledge. It is about forming character through exposure to role models, ethical reflection and active participation in civic life. Political deliberation is not merely a clash of interests, but a joint pursuit of practical wisdom about how to live together well. Leadership is understood not as performance, but as stewardship — an exercise in guiding others toward a shared good. Such a politics may sound naive in an age of cynicism. But perhaps cynicism has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The real naivete lies in believing that we can sustain democracy without cultivating the moral and civic virtues that make it possible. Aristotle understood what too many modern theorists have forgotten: The health of a society depends not just on its laws or its economy, but on the character of its people. A defining feature of our time is that too many people, educated to view themselves and others as isolated choosers — as Homo economicus — feel powerless, unmoored, and hungry for meaning. Some seek it in identitarian or nationalist projects and others in market success. But beneath these divergent paths lies a shared longing for purpose, belonging, and dignity. Aristotle speaks directly to that longing, offering not a technocratic fix or a partisan slogan but a moral vision of politics as a space for human flourishing. Like the Japanese art of "kintsugi" — mending broken pottery with gold — Aristotelianism teaches us that the fractured polis of the 21st century has the potential to be made whole. The task is not to erase the cracks but to fill them with virtue, purpose, and a shared conception of the common good. Antara Haldar, associate professor of empirical legal studies at the University of Cambridge, is a visiting faculty member at Harvard University and the principal investigator on a European Research Council grant on law and cognition. The views expressed here are the writer's own. -- Ed.
Yahoo
27-03-2025
- Lifestyle
- Yahoo
You Can Do Leisure Better, Seriously
Want to stay current with Arthur's writing? Sign up to get an email every time a new column comes out. As a professor, my primary vocation is to teach young adults skills that will prepare them to excel in their careers. The implicit assumption society makes is that professional excellence requires formal training, whereas excellence in the rest of life does not. There is no Harvard School of Leisure, after all. Work demands discipline and training; nonwork is easy and enjoyable and comes naturally. Our higher-education system, including my university, operates on this assumption. But to me, it's very questionable. Leisure is not at all straightforward or easy. I have no interest in frittering away a minute of my day on fruitless pursuits. I want everything I do to be generative. I want to use my nonwork activities, as much as my work ones, to become a wiser, happier, more effective, better person. Leisure is serious business. My attitude is not, in fact, especially original: The 20th-century German philosopher Josef Pieper believed that when we understand and practice leisure properly, we can achieve our best selves—and even our capacity to transform society for the better. But to do leisure like this, we must treat it with every bit as much seriousness as we do our careers. [Arthur C. Brooks: How to have your most fulfilling vacation ever] Given their observable behavior, people evidently believe that leisure is desirable. As Aristotle reasoned in his Nicomachean Ethics, 'We toil that we may rest, and war that we may be at peace.' When our work is most demanding, we typically define leisure as its opposite: complete inactivity. For example, when the burned-out 51-year-old CEO of a $68 billion investment firm abruptly quit his job in 2022, he explained to reporters what he planned to do next: 'I just want to go sit at the beach and do nothing.' Even if we're not finding our work overtaxing, we still talk about taking a break from it that will allow us to reenergize—in order to work more and better. Either way, we're defining leisure in relation to work, as the absence of work or as an adjunct to work. Pieper rejected this whole way of thinking. A follower of Plato and Thomas Aquinas, Pieper believed that leisure was an inherently valuable, constructive part of life, and he thought we misunderstood leisure when we defined it as work's opposite. In his 1948 book, Leisure: The Basis of Culture, he described it as an attitude of openness to the world through deep contemplation. In Pieper's conception, the opposite of leisure is not work, but acedia, an ancient-Greek word that means spiritual or mental sloth. Leisure, in other words, is far from the modern notion of just chillin'. It is a serious business, and if you don't do leisure well, you will never find life's full meaning. Properly understood, leisure is the work you do for yourself as a person without an economic compulsion driving you. For Pieper, this work of leisure—no contradiction, in his view—would not involve such 'acediac' activities as scrolling social media and chuckling at memes, getting drunk, or binge-streaming some show. Rather, true leisure would involve philosophical reflection, deep artistic experiences, learning new ideas or skills, spending time in nature, or deepening personal relationships. Pieper especially focused on faith experiences, because he believed that 'culture lives on religion through divine worship.' Perhaps you have never thought of going to a house of worship as leisure, but Pieper would say that's because you never took your leisure seriously enough. You might be thinking that this approach to leisure doesn't sound especially fun to you, not so chill, but social scientists' findings suggest that Pieper knew a thing or two about well-being. We may intuitively think that the best way to get happier is, like the CEO, to 'go sit at the beach and do nothing.' But researchers have found that this kind of do-nothing leisure, including vacation travel, provides only minor, temporary boosts of happiness. What gives us more sustained well-being are pursuits involving social engagement, personal reflection, and outdoor activities. [Arthur C. Brooks: Aristotle's 10 rules for a good life] The point here is that just as we should be excellent at our jobs, we should become excellent at leisure. Doing leisure well will generate the sort of growth in our well-being that work cannot provide. We need to take the time to dwell on life's big questions without distraction, to learn to appreciate what is beautiful, to transcend our workaday lives and consider what is divine. To achieve excellence at anything in life requires time, effort, and discipline. In this spirit, here are three ways to build your 'leisure aptitude.' 1. Structure your leisure. The Catholic bishop Fulton Sheen was famous throughout the United States as a radio and television star from the 1930s through the '60s. His lasting legacy, however, was instructing people to undertake what he called a 'Holy Hour' of prayer, scripture reading, and meditation each day. He advised everyone whose schedule permitted it to keep this practice at the same time every day and for the whole hour. Millions of priests and laity still do so to this day, and people swear by it as one of the most helpful parts of their faith. Whether you are religious or not, consider observing your own Holy Hour. Maybe it can be a time in the morning when you read something truly meaningful, or a walk after lunch when you leave your device behind, or a period of uninterrupted conversation after dinner with the person you love best. But structure this Holy Hour into your day as you would an important work meeting. 2. Don't fritter away your leisure. One of the biggest killers of productive leisure is the inability to get started. If you have an hour off, you might start by reading the news, then answering email messages … and before you know it, the time has passed in merely routine and forgettable activity. To avoid this, program the time in advance and get right into it. If the leisure activity is to read a certain book from 6 to 7 a.m., have the book ready, start promptly, and do absolutely nothing else. Put your phone on silent and out of reach, and block all distractions. This is crucial time. 3. Set specific leisure goals. Humans are inherently goal-oriented. In any area of personal improvement, whether your career or your health, goals—and making progress toward them—are central to staying motivated. For example, you probably won't be able to keep to an exercise plan unless you have the ambition to get stronger and healthier in a measurable way, and see regular, tangible advancement toward that end. Goal orientation should also apply to your leisure activities. Instead of randomly dipping into a holy book in your religious tradition, say, set about reading the entire volume in a year. Similarly, your goal for daily meditation might be to work toward a week-long silent retreat. Or if your leisure purpose is to listen to music, focus on a particular composer with an end in mind: Listen and learn about J. S. Bach every day, for example, with the goal of attending a summer Bach festival as an expert listener. [Derek Thompson: The free-time paradox in America] Pieper's philosophy of leisure offers more than a formula for organizing your own recreational time; it also asserts that leisure is 'the basis of culture.' How so? Left to our educational experience and its basic assumptions, many of us naturally oscillate between being Homo economicus and Homo trivialus—in other words, a cycle of laborious slog by day and unproductive, numbing pleasure-pursuits in the evenings and at weekends. This is a culture of unenriching, unrelieved monotony. We have two ways to change this: One is through work; the other is through leisure. For many people, the former is not possible, at least not in the short run. But for everyone, leisure can be customized to make it enlivening, not deadening. How you use your leisure can be made to reflect your values and connect with other people in deeply meaningful ways. That is a culture of joy and interest I want to be part of. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
27-03-2025
- Lifestyle
- Atlantic
How to Be Excellent at Leisure
Want to stay current with Arthur's writing? Sign up to get an email every time a new column comes out. As a professor, my primary vocation is to teach young adults skills that will prepare them to excel in their careers. The implicit assumption society makes is that professional excellence requires formal training, whereas excellence in the rest of life does not. There is no Harvard School of Leisure, after all. Work demands discipline and training; nonwork is easy and enjoyable and comes naturally. Our higher-education system, including my university, operates on this assumption. But to me, it's very questionable. Leisure is not at all straightforward or easy. I have no interest in frittering away a minute of my day on fruitless pursuits. I want everything I do to be generative. I want to use my nonwork activities, as much as my work ones, to become a wiser, happier, more effective, better person. Leisure is serious business. My attitude is not, in fact, especially original: The 20th-century German philosopher Josef Pieper believed that when we understand and practice leisure properly, we can achieve our best selves—and even our capacity to transform society for the better. But to do leisure like this, we must treat it with every bit as much seriousness as we do our careers. Arthur C. Brooks: How to have your most fulfilling vacation ever Given their observable behavior, people evidently believe that leisure is desirable. As Aristotle reasoned in his Nicomachean Ethics, 'We toil that we may rest, and war that we may be at peace.' When our work is most demanding, we typically define leisure as its opposite: complete inactivity. For example, when the burned-out 51-year-old CEO of a $68 billion investment firm abruptly quit his job in 2022, he explained to reporters what he planned to do next: 'I just want to go sit at the beach and do nothing.' Even if we're not finding our work overtaxing, we still talk about taking a break from it that will allow us to reenergize—in order to work more and better. Either way, we're defining leisure in relation to work, as the absence of work or as an adjunct to work. Pieper rejected this whole way of thinking. A follower of Plato and Thomas Aquinas, Pieper believed that leisure was an inherently valuable, constructive part of life, and he thought we misunderstood leisure when we defined it as work's opposite. In his 1948 book, Leisure: The Basis of Culture, he described it as an attitude of openness to the world through deep contemplation. In Pieper's conception, the opposite of leisure is not work, but acedia, an ancient-Greek word that means spiritual or mental sloth. Leisure, in other words, is far from the modern notion of just chillin'. It is a serious business, and if you don't do leisure well, you will never find life's full meaning. Properly understood, leisure is the work you do for yourself as a person without an economic compulsion driving you. For Pieper, this work of leisure—no contradiction, in his view—would not involve such 'acediac' activities as scrolling social media and chuckling at memes, getting drunk, or binge-streaming some show. Rather, true leisure would involve philosophical reflection, deep artistic experiences, learning new ideas or skills, spending time in nature, or deepening personal relationships. Pieper especially focused on faith experiences, because he believed that 'culture lives on religion through divine worship.' Perhaps you have never thought of going to a house of worship as leisure, but Pieper would say that's because you never took your leisure seriously enough. You might be thinking that this approach to leisure doesn't sound especially fun to you, not so chill, but social scientists' findings suggest that Pieper knew a thing or two about well-being. We may intuitively think that the best way to get happier is, like the CEO, to 'go sit at the beach and do nothing.' But researchers have found that this kind of do-nothing leisure, including vacation travel, provides only minor, temporary boosts of happiness. What gives us more sustained well-being are pursuits involving social engagement, personal reflection, and outdoor activities. Arthur C. Brooks: Aristotle's 10 rules for a good life The point here is that just as we should be excellent at our jobs, we should become excellent at leisure. Doing leisure well will generate the sort of growth in our well-being that work cannot provide. We need to take the time to dwell on life's big questions without distraction, to learn to appreciate what is beautiful, to transcend our workaday lives and consider what is divine. To achieve excellence at anything in life requires time, effort, and discipline. In this spirit, here are three ways to build your 'leisure aptitude.' 1. Structure your leisure. The Catholic bishop Fulton Sheen was famous throughout the United States as a radio and television star from the 1930s through the '60s. His lasting legacy, however, was instructing people to undertake what he called a 'Holy Hour' of prayer, scripture reading, and meditation each day. He advised everyone whose schedule permitted it to keep this practice at the same time every day and for the whole hour. Millions of priests and laity still do so to this day, and people swear by it as one of the most helpful parts of their faith. Whether you are religious or not, consider observing your own Holy Hour. Maybe it can be a time in the morning when you read something truly meaningful, or a walk after lunch when you leave your device behind, or a period of uninterrupted conversation after dinner with the person you love best. But structure this Holy Hour into your day as you would an important work meeting. 2. Don't fritter away your leisure. One of the biggest killers of productive leisure is the inability to get started. If you have an hour off, you might start by reading the news, then answering email messages … and before you know it, the time has passed in merely routine and forgettable activity. To avoid this, program the time in advance and get right into it. If the leisure activity is to read a certain book from 6 to 7 a.m., have the book ready, start promptly, and do absolutely nothing else. Put your phone on silent and out of reach, and block all distractions. This is crucial time. 3. Set specific leisure goals. Humans are inherently goal-oriented. In any area of personal improvement, whether your career or your health, goals—and making progress toward them—are central to staying motivated. For example, you probably won't be able to keep to an exercise plan unless you have the ambition to get stronger and healthier in a measurable way, and see regular, tangible advancement toward that end. Goal orientation should also apply to your leisure activities. Instead of randomly dipping into a holy book in your religious tradition, say, set about reading the entire volume in a year. Similarly, your goal for daily meditation might be to work toward a week-long silent retreat. Or if your leisure purpose is to listen to music, focus on a particular composer with an end in mind: Listen and learn about J. S. Bach every day, for example, with the goal of attending a summer Bach festival as an expert listener. Derek Thompson: The free-time paradox in America Pieper's philosophy of leisure offers more than a formula for organizing your own recreational time; it also asserts that leisure is 'the basis of culture.' How so? Left to our educational experience and its basic assumptions, many of us naturally oscillate between being Homo economicus and Homo trivialus —in other words, a cycle of laborious slog by day and unproductive, numbing pleasure-pursuits in the evenings and at weekends. This is a culture of unenriching, unrelieved monotony. We have two ways to change this: One is through work; the other is through leisure. For many people, the former is not possible, at least not in the short run. But for everyone, leisure can be customized to make it enlivening, not deadening. How you use your leisure can be made to reflect your values and connect with other people in deeply meaningful ways. That is a culture of joy and interest I want to be part of.
