By Juan Larrosa, May 4, 2026
On November 30, 2022, a significant portion of humanity became aware, for the first time, of what generative artificial intelligence means. That day marked the mass release of ChatGPT, which, although it had existed since 2018, only began to gain widespread popularity at that point. Soon after, other systems such as Gemini, DeepSeek, Anthropic, and many more emerged. Since then, public conversation and the collective imagination have been captured by the idea of a future immersed in this technology.
Like many others, this technology is a tool that assists with countless human tasks. It enables faster calculations, which has accelerated the pace of medical research around the world. In law firms, these tools have become voracious readers of legal documents. In tech companies, machines are programming at full speed, leaving even some of the most skilled engineers in this field behind.
In this brief overview of how this technology has transformed human activity, one element stands out: time. Across all these activities, professions, and forms of work, the possibility emerges to do things more quickly. Just a few decades ago, when a question arose, one had to consult a dictionary or an encyclopedia, which involved going to a bookshelf or library, taking out a book, searching for an entry, and reading extensively to find the information. Twenty years ago, Google and, later, Wikipedia reduced that time, but searches could still take several minutes. Today, it is enough to take out a mobile phone and ask a question to a chat system.
In the minds of the creators of generative AI—often aligned with a pro-technology vision—a future is imagined in which humans can do things faster and, moreover, delegate work to machines while devoting themselves to leisure and contemplation. It does not sound bad in a historical moment marked by widespread burnout and work addiction (though, to be fair, this runs counter to the capitalist inertia driving this technological movement).
However, in the history of technology, such utopias have rarely materialized. It is enough to recall the broken promises of openness, transparency, and democratization that accompanied the early days of the internet and later the rise of Web 2.0.
From this skeptical standpoint, I wonder whether there is a limit to the human brain’s capacity to process information at ever-increasing speeds and, at the same time, to the dependency created by instant answers. It is a relief to know that a machine can quickly draft the emails we once wrote ourselves; however, we often forget that everyone has access to the same tool, and the time it saves us is directly proportional to the increase in the number of emails it produces. What happens with email happens in many other areas: there is an oversaturation of information that our brains can barely process.
I will end with the topic I usually address in this space: politics. What will the world look like in which vast amounts of information are processed automatically? At what point will human minds intervene to make decisions about how to allocate scarce resources or how to administer the use of force? Will there be sufficient cognitive capacity to make such decisions? In electoral processes and in recent wars—two central arenas of our societies—we see a great deal of artificial intelligence and very little humanity.
This text was originally read on Informativo NTR Radio, broadcast on May 4, 2026, and hosted by journalist Sonia Serrano.