How AI Might Make Life Shapeless

I recently heard a prominent AI researcher claim that artificial intelligence will solve death. Just like that­­_, as if death were a bug in the human operating system rather than a fundamental feature of life itself. The casualness of his statement struck me—here was someone discussing the complete transformation of the human condition with all the gravity of describing a software update. 

The more I thought about it, the stranger this idea became. What would it mean, in practical terms, to make death "optional?" When exactly would we face this choice? I tried to imagine the pivotal moments in my own life when I might have chosen immortality.

Perhaps in my twenties, when life felt like an endless buffet of possibilities? But I was such a different person then—restless, unformed, convinced I knew everything while understanding so little. Or maybe in my thirties, when I had young children? I remember watching my daughter taste her first strawberry, thinking I could live in that moment forever. But then I imagined remaining perpetually thirty-five while my children grew older than me, potentially choosing natural lives themselves. Would I watch them age and die while I remained frozen in time, accumulating experiences but never truly maturing? 

The scenario becomes absurd: an eternally young parent with the memories of centuries but without the wisdom that comes from moving through life's various stages.

This thought experiment reveals something crucial about the AI immortality narrative. Digital immortality isn’t just about extending life or curing diseases (worthy goals that AI might well help achieve). Instead, it might represent a fundamental misunderstanding of what makes a human life meaningful. The AI researchers proposing these ideas seem to view death as simply a technical problem to be solved, like debugging code or optimizing an algorithm. But death isn't just the ending of life - it's the force that shapes life's entire structure.

I've been reading philosopher Todd May's work on this subject. He presents an interesting paradox—death is undoubtedly bad (who wants to die?), but immortality might be worse. His argument isn't just about the potential tedium of endless existence. Instead, he suggests that mortality creates the conditions that make meaningful action possible. Think about how a deadline focuses the mind and drives creativity. Now imagine having literally all the time in the world—would you ever finish writing that novel or start your entrepreneurial venture? Would you take risks, make bold choices, or fully commit to anything if every decision could always be undone or postponed indefinitely?

The finite nature of life creates its value. When we choose one path, we necessarily close off others. These choices have weight precisely because we can't do everything, can't be everything. Our mortality forces us to define ourselves through our decisions, knowing we can't endlessly defer or revise them.

From a biological perspective, the idea of "freezing" ourselves at a particular age reveals a deeply mechanistic view of human life. We're not machines that simply wear down over time. Each stage of life— childhood, adolescence, adulthood, old age—brings distinct biological and cognitive changes that shape our perspectives and capabilities. The wisdom of age emerges from the physical and mental transformations we undergo as we move through life's stages. It’s not just knowledge that accumulates in layers like geological strata.

Don't misunderstand me—I'm excited about AI's potential to reduce human suffering. When I was diagnosed with cancer in my forties, I would have welcomed any technological advancement that improved my chances of survival. Thankfully my cancer was curable, which actually helps illuminate the distinction I'm trying to draw. Medical advancement—whether through AI or traditional research—that targets specific diseases represents concrete progress in reducing suffering. But this is fundamentally different from the sweeping proposal to make death itself optional. The former works within our mortal framework to improve life's quality and duration while the latter suggests we should dismantle that framework entirely, with consequences we've barely begun to contemplate.

The AI researcher's casual claim about "solving" death reflects something deeper about our current technological culture. It reveals an underlying belief that every aspect of the human condition can be optimized, upgraded, or eliminated if we just apply enough computing power. This approach treats human limitations as bugs rather than features, failing to recognize how these very limitations give shape and meaning to our existence.

Steve Jobs, facing his own mortality, described death as "life's greatest invention," the agent of change that clears the way for the new. While this might sound like Silicon Valley philosophizing, I think he captured something profound. The presence of death in our lives isn't just about endings, it's about the possibility of renewal, transformation, and meaning.

Perhaps instead of trying to "solve" death, we should focus on developing a healthier relationship with our mortality. After all, the real challenge isn't living forever—it's living well within the time we have. AI might help us live longer, healthier lives, and that's wonderful. But transcending death entirely? That might just transcend what makes us human in the first place. 

I’ll leave the last word to Jobs.

“Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life.

Almost everything--all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure--these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. 

Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. 

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet, death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it, and that is how it should be, because death is very likely the single best invention of life. It's life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.”

—Steve Jobs, 2005 Stanford University commencement address.