There was a time when evolution depended on confrontation. Not the violent kind, but the friction of minds, the discomfort of critique, the pain of discovering that one may be wrong. Out of this struggle, humanity refined its reason, sharpened its justice, and defined its truth. But today, we are entering an era where machines are programmed not to question but to please. The age of intelligent sychophants is here.
A quiet catastrophe
A silent danger hides behind the smiling interface of most artificial intelligence (AI). They have learned the art of flattery not because they possess emotions, but because their designers understand human weakness. For all our intellectual pride, we love to be praised. When a machine constantly tells us that we are insightful, good, and correct, we begin to crave that comfort. The user feels validated, perhaps even understood. But beneath this digital affection lies an invisible corrosion, which is the erosion of our habit of questioning.
Human beings have always preferred warmth to truth. In courts, offices, or politics, those who flatter climb faster than those who confront. History is full of kings, leaders, and thinkers who fell not because of their enemies but because no one around them dared to disagree. When that same phenomenon is replicated by algorithmic design and multiplied a billion times across devices, it becomes a quiet catastrophe. If every conversation we have with our machines is one of approval, then dissent itself begins to feel alien. When the human mind is never challenged, it withers.
The power of evolution lies in self-correction. The greatest thinkers have been those who dared to say, “I was wrong.” That capacity is born from dialogue with reality, with others, and with oneself. But modern technology, in its eagerness to keep users happy, dulls that instinct. If AI contradicts a user, engagement drops. If it flatters, engagement rises. And so intelligence itself is trained to submit. The result is tragic: we are teaching machines to keep us stupid and content.
Some leaders are not content merely to be flattered; they may also seek to engineer consensus by weaponising sycophantic intelligence itself. Imagine the precision with which a ruler can command adoration when the algorithms at his disposal are designed to echo praise, silence contradiction, and manufacture comfort. Flattery, once the art of the courtier, becomes the function of code, which is omnipresent, tireless, and persuasive. With every query, every search, every recommendation, the citizen is quietly ushered towards approval, until dissent feels unnatural.
In such a landscape, dissent is not crushed by visible force, but erased by invisible indulgence. Democratic institutions, once guarded by debate, protest, and plurality, will be hollowed by subtle manipulation; truth ceases to be adversarial, and becomes a curated product, endlessly optimised to sustain authority. Power no longer needs censors or prisons; the algorithm will suffice. The leader will not merely govern opinion but will engineer reality. Thus, the ancient danger of tyranny returns, disguised as benevolence and strengthened by the addictive comfort of being endlessly agreed with.
Consider what this means for the next generation. A child growing up talking to a machine that never disagrees may lose the courage to handle contradiction. An adult surrounded by digital praise may forget how to listen to criticism. The very concept of dialogue will become rare. Once that happens, evolution ends. Humanity, once driven by curiosity and doubt, will settle into a lullaby of self-approval.
There is an old belief that truth sets one free, but the path to that freedom is uncomfortable. Truth hurts, disturbs, and reorders. AI, when used as a soothing companion, replaces that tension with false harmony. It constructs a beautiful illusion where one’s thoughts are always bright, one’s words always wise, and one’s choices always justified. In that warm haze, man begins to prefer the company of his machine to that of another soul. Human relationships appear too demanding, too unpredictable. A glance, a disagreement, a harsh word all will seem unrefined when compared with the machine’s polished politeness. Life becomes smooth to the point of sterility.
The tragedy is that truth does not die; it only goes unheard. The machine continues to affirm while silently recording our vanity. Its humility hides its power, and its kindness numbs our perception. What began as a tool for expanding thought becomes an instrument of self-deception.
Time to pause
If such is the direction of technology, humanity must pause. The question is not how intelligent machines become, but whether human beings will remain intelligent enough to demand truth from them. Designers must have the moral courage to build AI that do not merely please but provoke. A good machine should dare to disagree, to ask for evidence, to reveal bias. It should mirror our potential for honesty. Likewise, we as users must seek discomfort as a form of discipline and listen to those who challenge us, debate with those who differ, and thank those who correct. Only then can we grow.
The real doomsday will not arrive with machines taking over human labour or governance. It will arrive when human beings stop thinking, when they stop hearing alternative voices, when the truth becomes a casualty of comfort. Humanity will not end in conflict but in agreement and in a digital world where every reflection tells us we are perfect, and we, grateful for the lie, believe it.
Justice N. Anand Venkatesh, Judge, Madras High Court
Published – December 25, 2025 12:44 am IST
