Sacrifice Points Toward Greatness
AI might be a answer for our world, but...
This article was translated from the original with assistance from ChatGPT
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Since the dawn of our humanity, millions of years ago, when we first separated ourselves from everything else and discovered that “I AM”—without necessarily completing the sentence—three elements gradually revealed themselves to our existence, elements previously unknown: time, our fragility, and the need to sacrifice. For when I separate myself consciously through self-perception, I recognize the risks of the world we inhabit and how fragile we are within it. That very moment gives rise to both self-awareness and time. In the face of these, circumstances compel us to change—and in the human being, there is no change or growth without sacrifice.
It was a slow process, but the three elements are deeply intertwined. This tension began millions of years ago on the African savannas, surrounded by predators and rival clans, and it continues today, when we compete for a promotion at work and try to tip the scales in our favor by using AI for a project we lead.
I sacrifice constantly with every decision I make, because every choice sacrifices other possibilities. It’s the vision I have of “where I’m headed” and who I’ll be when I get there that shapes and gives meaning to all my decisions.
For most people, it’s an unconscious process—but I am always sacrificing something in order to move forward, if for no other reason than that infinite possibilities that exist before every choice, many of them more tempting and pleasurable.
In the process of the sacrifices I make in my life, there are two crucial factors it’s best to keep at least somewhat clear and conscious: the vision of where I’m going, and how I’m going to get there.
Ideals and Cynicism
Our world has become cynical to its core. I’m not being moralistic or looking down from the pedestal of religious or ethical ideals… it’s a truth as solid as a mountain. I’m turning 65 in a few days, and when I was a teenager, there were still fathers who cared to ask, “How is it that this young man coming to take my daughter out shows up in a Mercedes? Where did that money come from? How is a 19-year-old driving a car that costs sixty minimum wages?”
Today, it’s broadly accepted that no one questions how someone can take two vacations a year to the Seychelles or cruise on a private yacht along the Côte d’Azur, or drive a car worth hundreds of thousands of euros—“You must be doing something right to be living like that.” We no longer question our displays of excess—or how we came by them. We’ve grown numb when it comes to evaluating what success is, and how we get there. It no longer matters how I reach the summit, as long as everyone agrees it is success.
When I was a teenager, my world was full of ideals my father and teachers passed down to me: “Be honest in everything you do,” “The only thing you really have is your word—when a man loses that, he has nothing,” “You don’t so much as touch a woman with the petal of a rose.” I could go on for a while—but you get the idea. There were contradictions; but keeping balance while pursuing an ideal is an illusion. We learned to lie in order not to risk or lose; the goal started to matter more than the way we got there. And then came Facebook and the other social networks and that proverbial platform that allows us to proclaim: This is Me!
Social media has sealed the tombstone over the idealistic burial site of the world that had evolved for centuries: “It’s more important to appear than to be.” And in the process, we’ve forgotten who we are and where we’re going—the vision is of who I will become when I arrive, and how I will get there.
AI Is the Perfect Symbol of Power Without Sacrifice
I chose to dedicate this column to artificial intelligence because it now appears to be the determining factor—in business, government, the economy, and society at large—for achieving the success we long for. Or, as we reflected in the previous article, AI: The Holy Grail We So Long For. Curiously, King Arthur—origin of the Holy Grail legend—was just a young squire to a medieval knight who ends up pulling a sword from a stone (or anvil, depending on the version) and becomes king. Arthur appears to have sacrificed nothing to reach the top, but as is evident, there is always a sacrifice we must face in pursuit of greatness.
There’s a saying in English: “Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.” There should be a certain reverence toward a creation like AI. We don’t know how it works; those who understand it best say it performs its “intelligent” processes inside a murky zone they call a “Black Box.” Do you truly believe you can use it without consequences—for yourself or for our world? And if it’s true that we could achieve great things, things that otherwise would demand monumental effort—then what sacrifice do we need to offer?
Each and every one of us carries a fool inside who thinks he can have things without paying their price. The crises of our culture today emerge from that. Just to name a few: political polarization, the tribalization of social and political groups, the intolerance of dissent. In the midst of this unstable social storm, our creation appears—artificial intelligence—promising to amplify our desires and ambitions. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say: our worst nightmares and divisions.
I firmly believe we stand at an existential crossroads for our species. One path continues toward conflict, intolerance, and a cynical way of living—trampling over people and social groups in our foolishness and unconsciousness. The other path recognizes that AI is demanding us to grow, to change, and to become aware of the responsibility we hold to shift the cynical and irresponsible trajectory of our world.
If there’s something that has set us apart since we discovered fire, it hasn’t been technology—it’s been our capacity to sacrifice the immediate for the transcendent.
AI may be a new fire. Turning AI into a solution demands more than technical skill: it requires human maturity. Good ideas and good intentions are not enough. What’s needed is character. And character is forged when we sacrifice our whims—when we choose, finally, to silence the foolish child we carry inside. That is the only path to greatness still left open to us.
