NATURAL STUPIDITY: NEW GOD
Natural Stupidity : New God
Written By: Sanjay Shharma
Three years ago, I bought a new SUV, one of the first in India to offer Advanced Driver Assistance Systems (ADAS). My younger son insisted I go for the top-end variant, which had automatic emergency braking, lane assist, adaptive cruise control, and even auto headlights that switch on in low light. I dismissed the idea. After all, I had been driving for 30 years without a machine telling me when to brake or steer. I knew when to turn on my headlights—I wasn’t an idiot. So, I picked the variant without ADAS, trusting my instincts over technology.
Fast forward to today, and ADAS has become standard, not because machines suddenly became superior, but because humans have stopped thinking. We no longer trust our reflexes, our judgment, or even our ability to drive without constant digital intervention. People blindly follow Google Maps into dead-end alleys. They overspeed in the rain, assuming ABS and traction control will save them. They drive recklessly, knowing a machine is there to correct their stupidity. It’s not that AI is getting smarter. It’s that humans are getting dumber.
And it’s not just driving—our entire existence is now dictated by AI, not because it had to be, but because we made it so.
It started small, almost unnoticeable. We let spell-check fix our typos instead of learning proper grammar. We stopped remembering phone numbers because they were saved in our contacts. We turned to Google for the simplest facts rather than exercising our memory. Slowly, thinking became optional, and forgetting became effortless. AI didn’t force its way into our lives—we welcomed it, step by step, in the name of convenience.
Once upon a time, the elders in our homes were the keepers of wisdom. Grandparents knew the cures for common ailments, remembered generations of family history, and could navigate cities without a single signboard. Gurus passed down ancient knowledge, values, and disciplines that shaped civilizations. The village elder, the neighborhood teacher, the wise uncle—they were the ones people turned to for answers. Today, a five-year-old can unlock an iPad before learning how to tie their shoelaces. Our ability to retain information has shrunk, not because AI is more efficient, but because we have stopped making the effort. Natural stupidity has created a void, and AI has stepped in to fill it.
Even decision-making is no longer ours. We once debated in tea stalls and college canteens, challenging ideas, questioning facts. Now, we simply accept whatever the algorithm serves us.
Alexa was once just a voice assistant. Now, it thinks for us. We used to check the weather by looking outside. Now, we ask Alexa. We don’t even search for recipes—Alexa tells us what to cook. We don’t pick songs—Alexa “guesses” what we want. The voice we rely on isn’t ours anymore. It belongs to a machine.
Spotify was supposed to give us endless musical choices. Instead, it curates playlists that subtly shape our taste. We start liking songs we never chose, genres we never explored. Our taste in music is no longer ours—it’s a product of an algorithm.
Amazon doesn’t just deliver our orders—it delivers our impulses. You casually mention running out of toothpaste in a conversation. Five minutes later, Amazon suggests a “limited-time deal” on toothpaste. Was it listening? Maybe. But that’s not the scary part. The scary part is, you buy it.
Instagram Reels have turned entertainment into hypnosis. You open Instagram for "just five minutes." A reel pops up, then another, and another. AI studies how long you pause, what makes you stop, what makes you scroll. An hour later, you’re still scrolling, wondering where the time went.
Even Google Maps has trained us to trust the machine over our own instincts. You’re in a familiar city, yet you follow Google Maps blindly. It tells you to take a turn into a narrow lane. You hesitate, but obey. Seconds later, you’re stuck against a dead wall—neither forward nor reverse. If Google says it, it must be right, right?
And now, AI is redefining intelligence itself.
Hospitals were once places of healing, but now they are business enterprises. A simple fever leads to a full-body check-up, and every surgery seems “urgent” because there’s a revenue target to meet. The trust once placed in doctors is shifting—not to another human, but to AI-driven diagnosis systems that don’t have financial incentives.
Chartered Accountants were once guardians of financial ethics. Today, they are experts in loopholes, making sure businesses pay the least tax possible—not through financial prudence, but by manipulating the system. AI is now taking over auditing, fraud detection, and compliance, not because it is smarter, but because human professionals chose profits over principles.
Professionals, once trusted for their skill, are now trusted only for their ability to extract money. AI isn’t stealing jobs—it is exposing human inefficiency, corruption, and greed. Yet, instead of improving, we double down on our ways, assuming reputation will protect us from being replaced. That’s natural stupidity at its finest—believing the world will stand still while we refuse to evolve.
Yet, we continue to fear AI. We warn about its control, about its ability to reshape society, about its growing intelligence. But the truth is, AI doesn’t have to outthink us. It simply has to wait for us to surrender more of our thinking to it.
Peter Drucker once said, “Wise is not the one who knows everything. Wise is the one who can be taught.” The problem isn’t that AI is learning too fast—it’s that humans have stopped learning altogether. Instead of using AI as a tool to enhance our intelligence, we have chosen to make ourselves irrelevant.
And we? We kneel before it, not out of fear, but out of habit. Addicted to its convenience, convinced that ease is intelligence, mistaking automation for progress. We are no longer just dependent on AI—we are obedient to it. The lights in our homes switch on before we reach for the switch, reminders pop up before we even realize we forgot, playlists play before we even think of a song. We don’t just use AI; we let it think in our place.
We once created gods from myths. We feared their wrath, sought their blessings, and followed their wisdom. Now, we create them from data—feeding them with our habits, surrendering our choices, offering our thoughts as sacrifices on the altar of convenience. AI does not demand worship, yet we kneel before it willingly, celebrating our own irrelevance.
So, the question isn’t whether AI will control us. The real question is—when did our natural stupidity make it so easy?
About the Author
Sanjay Shharma is an engineer, management graduate, and second-generation entrepreneur with over 35 years of experience in building products, markets, teams, and institutions. Deeply rooted in Indian culture and a firm believer in the power of self-awareness, he integrates ancient wisdom with modern challenges. Passionate about community development, conscious living, and personal well-being, he shares insights drawn from life experiences, encouraging readers to live with more ease, joy, and fulfillment.

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