I’m preoccupied with the notion that Ozempic and AI are the uncontrolled catalysts for our demise as humans. I alternate between anger, fear, and hopelessness. Until I notice my garden. There is a random six-foot-high sunflower plant smiling tall and strong in the midst of a jumble of creeping vines with beautiful gold flowers (I can’t remember what I planted; however, I have harvested 8 cucumbers and now there’s a large squash of sorts hanging over the chicken wire fence) and huge tomato plants drooping with red-orange bounty. I decided the sunflower is a sign of hope, reminding me to seek out small pleasures and have faith in the universe.
Sinking low again this morning after a glance at the headlines, I headed through our fields of barley and soybeans with the dogs. Both crops are solid dark green carpets, until I spot a lone tall stalk, with three tasselled ears of corn tucked neatly behind the large floating leaves. Not quite a miracle of nature, however, a sign of tenacity. We have never had corn in that field. Of course I stopped to talk to her, examine her beauty and sturdiness and thank her for being there.
My optimism and faith in humanity depend on these moments of joy and awe. Otherwise, I am left with my bewildered thoughts. Now that the GLP-1 medication is readily available for people wanting to lose weight, be it ten pounds or one hundred, millions are eating less, dining out infrequently, and posting pictures of their skinny selves on Instagram. Protein-rich cottage cheese is scarce, and no alcohol beer or wine is the norm. During a recent lunch with a friend, I noticed her nibbling on her salad and then boxing up more than half to take home for dinner. She had lost 30 pounds. I asked if she had changed her eating habits and started to exercise, the usual routine for long-term sustainable weight loss, pre-drugs. She is walking a bit more, though mainly relying on medication for weight management. She will be on it for the rest of her life.
A long time ago, I worked in psychiatry as an Occupational Therapist. My caseload included patients with eating disorders. Their weight, whether it was not enough or too much, was tied to their emotions and psychology. I wonder what will happen to those souls whose battle is not with food, but with themselves. To feel less afraid about the deluge and availability of these “miracle” drugs, I need to believe we will find our way to a healthy middle ground of medication and emotional recovery.
Beyond the billions of dollars and resources devoted to evolving artificial intelligence (AI) is its limitless potential to impact every aspect of our lives and our humanness. A gift to scientific research and medical diagnostics, AI now permeates every business and household. The warnings are real and prevalent. What becomes of problem-solving, critical thinking, and creativity when a bot can tell you the answer (not necessarily the best or most correct) in seconds? Or a scene can be acted without a real person, a piece of art produced without a human seed of inspiration. A book written, an essay submitted, a meeting conducted without engaging our brain and voice.
Sharing my concerns with a kindred spirit who, like me, is feeling existential threats from pharmacology and technology, along with the surreal political landscape, we committed to noticing the beauty around us, the people we care about, and the things we love to do. Celebrating simplicity and focusing on stretching our brains and bodies will keep us connected to reality and in touch with our humanity.