The Self We Think We Are — And What AI Might Change

We live in the age of the individual, within a culture of personality. From career paths to personal brands and curated social media, modern culture dictates that we view ourselves as unique, authentic, self-directed entities. But while individuality dominates our culture, the reality of what it means to be an “individual” is less clear.

Ask someone to tell you about themselves, and they’ll likely tell a story that includes what they do, the people important to them, accomplishments, and challenges overcome.  All from memory, shaped by emotion. Those stories, however sincere, don’t appear out of thin air. They're shaped by the culture we live in, the company we keep, and the expectations placed on us.

As Westerners, we are taught to believe that the individual is sacred. We place enormous value on authenticity, independence, originality, and the idea of “being true to yourself.” This phenomenon began in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, when, up to that point, there was a culture of character.  Emphasis was placed on the duty to the community, as well as humility and integrity.  Self-promotion was discouraged and likely would have led to being shunned socially.  However, that shifted with the emergence of the culture of personality, and one’s personality became more highly valued, especially extroversion.  

Fast forward to today, and life is focused on the individual.  Social media has created extreme tribalization.  Marketers are bombarding us with ads for products and services that promise to make us feel better, more accepted, more popular, and more unique.  And the ads deliberately manipulate our emotions as the marketers know that we make choices emotionally, rather than rationally.  They know us better than we do.  But what if the self is more complicated than being entirely one way or another?

Social scientists and philosophers have long argued that the sense of self arises from interactions with those around us. After all, we are not who we think we are; we are what others perceive us to be.  So, we become ourselves through the eyes of others, reflected in their reactions and shaped by their responses. Neuroscience confirms that our brains are wired for connection.  Brain cells constantly form new connections, and this is how individuals who suffer traumatic brain injuries can experience recovery.  These connections lead to our sense of agency, which depends on feedback loops with the world around us.

Yet, we insist that we are individuals, separate from our culture. Largely, because it's comforting. To believe we are the champions of our own destiny gives us dignity, control, and purpose. But it can also isolate us, causing anxiety and fueling the comparison paradox, which can lead to both self-awareness and growth, but also inadequacy and low self-esteem. It’s no coincidence that the prescription of anxiety meds began in the 1940s, when the culture of personality became the norm.  

Western culture prioritizes extroverts at the expense of introverts.  As such, those who are more introverted feel as though they must compensate to gain more professional and personal acceptance.  Meanwhile, the pharmaceutical industry is obliged to create and sell meds that relieve the anxiety of living in a world that rewards extroverts.  But if we're solely responsible for who we are, what does it mean when we feel lost or inadequate? Where do we turn when we’ve followed our own path only to find it leads nowhere?  

The sense of self is more nuanced. It recognizes the individual as autonomous but not solitary. Unique but not isolated. We have been and continue to be shaped by others, even as we continue to shape ourselves. Our identities are not simply masks we wear for the community to which we belong or aspire, but rather fluid, constantly changing works in progress.

Enter AI

The rise of artificial intelligence challenges what it means to be human. When machines can generate music, write essays, code software, and mimic personalities, our individuality begins to be called into question.

For eons, individuality has been tied to creativity, judgment, and expression—traits we consider uniquely human. But AI now performs some of these tasks with alarming efficiency. If a machine can compose a symphony, paint in the style of Van Gogh, or write poetry that actually moves us, it begs the question: What truly makes us unique?

Some say that what defines us is our ability to care, to suffer, and to relate in complex moral ways. I agree and also believe that being human requires imperfect perfection. That’s what creates relationships—picadillos, the quirky little things we do that those who love us notice and value because they know they are what make us who we are. It’s about trusting people, letting them into your life, and feeling comfortable revealing those picadillos.   We are human because we are vulnerable.  We recognize that in others and accept them as members of our “club.”  

An example of this is the aftermath of September 11th.  We were all Americans then.  Nothing else mattered, and we all shared the same grief.  Tragedy has a way of doing that. Our survival depends on it.  It’s the way to move on, and it’s hard to see how a machine can comprehend that.  

But AI is here, will continue to develop, and it compels a shift from viewing individuality as a matter of skill or productivity to recognizing it as a matter of context, depth, and connection.

Ironically, AI’s disruption may bring us closer to what philosophers and psychologists have long suggested: that the individual is not defined solely by themselves, but by their engagement with the world and with each other. Perhaps AI’s emergence is a wake-up call for people to prioritize substance over superficiality. To see our individuality not as a performance, but as a process of developing meaningful relationships.

As AI becomes more sophisticated, the challenge is not to outcompete it in terms of productivity or creativity. The cotton gin, automobile, and personal computer are all proof that machines can do certain tasks with greater efficiency than people.  It is to understand better why who we are matters.

The way we perceive ourselves shapes our attitudes and behaviors, which in turn influence how we handle money.  For example, when I was 14, I chose not to buy Air Jordan sneakers, not because I didn’t want them, but because I had worked hard to earn the money for them, and that changed how I valued the sneakers. A more financially conscientious version of myself emerged after I had experienced what it took to earn enough to buy them.  That is still part of who I am now.  A similar phenomenon may occur as AI develops, where people experience a deeper sense of what it means to be human.  Since money is involved in how we perceive ourselves and our place in society, this could alter the ways people value money.   

As a CERTIFIED FINANCIAL PLANNER™ Practitioner, I welcome the advances that AI could provide to the industry.  I believe it will help me serve people better by reducing the chances of errors and freeing up time to spend on decisions that machines cannot make.  The questions of when to stop working, how and where to send a child to school, downsizing a home, whether to launch another career, how to care for an aging parent, and ways to care for yourself later in life, among others, involve far more than crunching numbers and forecasting.  Those all include connecting with someone you can relate to, who understands what it’s like to be human, and can respond as one.