In a world dominated by AI, how to highlight human essence has become a critical issue. (Shutterstock)

Beyond the algorithm: How Taiwan’s thought leaders reclaim human value in the age of AI anxiety

From diplomats to technologists and medical scholars, prominent Taiwanese voices argue that the antidote to AI-driven unease lies not in resisting the technology, but in rediscovering what makes humans irreducibly human.

A society confronts the inevitable

As artificial intelligence (AI) accelerates from generative tools to autonomous agents capable of executing real-world tasks, anxiety over job displacement and societal disruption has taken root across the world.

The emergence of AI agents — systems that can independently place orders or complete workflows — has intensified concerns that not only cognitive labor, but increasingly physical and decision-making roles, may be supplanted.

Yet rather than succumbing to fatalism, some of Taiwan’s most prominent thinkers are reframing the challenge. Drawing from diplomacy, digital governance, and occupational therapy, they converge on a strikingly consistent thesis: the AI era demands a reorientation away from efficiency and standardization toward individuality, relational depth, and meaning-making.

Former diplomat: from precision to personality

For Pierre Yang Tzu-pao (楊子葆) — a former acting foreign minister, former deputy minister of culture, and engineer turned seasoned diplomat who is now a prolific author — the rise of AI exposes a longstanding imbalance in Taiwan’s education system.

Historically, he told TCN, Taiwan has excelled by cultivating precision, standardization, and mechanical excellence — traits that undergirded the success of world-leading firms such as TSMC. But those same traits, he warned, are becoming liabilities in the age of AI.

Yang added that Taiwan’s education system has traditionally privileged what he terms “Apollonian” qualities — rationality, clarity, logic, and mechanical precision — that once underpinned the island’s economic success. This emphasis, he said, has left Taiwanese society with a kind of “Dionysian Malnutrition” — a deficit in emotional depth and sensibility that must be redressed through a renewed search for balance.

Pierre Yang talks about arts and education. (Pierre Yang)
Pierre Yang talks about arts and education. (Pierre Yang)

He illustrated the point to TCN through the way art is often approached in Taiwan: many can fluently recite how a masterpiece is interpreted, which school influenced it, and how critics have evaluated it, yet struggle to articulate their own personal, affective response.

In an era increasingly defined by automation, Yang said, the cultivation of cross-disciplinary fluency is essential — not merely to broaden knowledge, but to foster associative thinking, elevate humanistic sensibilities over mechanical ones. He also encouraged individuals to voice their own perspectives.

“AI thrives on probability and averages,” Yang stated, noting that algorithmic outputs tend toward safe, statistically likely answers rather than distinctive or idiosyncratic ones. What is lost, then, is personality.

He illustrated this through an anecdote from his time in France: while he once relied on “correct” answers in discussions about wine-tasting, it was only when he introduced uniquely Taiwanese perspectives that he gained recognition.

In response, Yang advocated for cultivating what he calls the “human dimension” — taste, sensibility, and cross-disciplinary imagination. He urges a departure from rigid perfectionism toward a tolerance for imperfection, handcrafted nuance, and personal voice.

Writing, for him, remains an act of cultural transmission: a means to bring global perspectives into Taiwan while situating Taiwan within a broader historical and international context. The experiential synthesis, depth, layered nuances, and imperfections in creative writing still remain beyond the AI-generated articles, he stated.

To illustrate his point, he told TCN that during his doctoral studies in France, he frequently contributed articles to local media, only to later discover that his language and viewpoints were distinctly “un-French,” immediately marking him as an outsider.

When he asked why his editor had not asked him to revise, the editor said this was precisely the source of his appeal: French readers, encountering a Taiwanese perspective, experienced a kind of cultural jolt — a fresh lens through which to view the world. To dilute that difference, Yang was told, would be to lose its very essence.

Even in translation — a domain increasingly dominated by AI — Yang distinguishes between technical proficiency and true creativity. Yang said that creative works in Hakka or Indigenous languages could still yield awkward results when rendered directly into English.

Yang readily acknowledged the rapid advancement of AI, stating that AI could eventually translate such texts with a sophistication capable of winning accolades from native-speaking literary scholars. As with the historical shift from handwriting to typing, he said AI should be viewed as an inevitable and ultimately indispensable tool, one that should not be prohibited.

However, he draws a crucial distinction: translation based on an existing source text and creation from nothing are fundamentally different endeavors. In the former, AI performs remarkably well, leveraging vast corpora to emulate the styles of figures such as Yeats or Wilde, even reproducing intricate rhyme schemes with striking facility.

But in the latter — true creative authorship imbued with lived experience and interpretive depth — Yang said that AI still falls short of generating genuine originality or a distinctive voice.

Pierre Yang shares his thoughts on creative writing and his latest book. (Pierre Yang)
Pierre Yang shares his thoughts on creative writing and his latest book. (Pierre Yang)

Former digital minister: the limits of optimization

Audrey Tang (唐鳳), Taiwan’s first and former Minister of Digital Affairs and a globally recognized technologist, approaches AI anxiety from a systemic perspective.

On a March 24 podcost episode discussing AI agents and OpenClaw with the Taipei-based CommonWealth Magazine, Tang cautioned that many AI systems, including emerging agents, are designed to optimize abstract metrics — efficiency, engagement, or output — without regard for the social fabric.

This, she argued, risks “fracturing society and eroding trust.”

Tang offered a vivid analogy: if individuals were to deploy a robot to exercise on their behalf, such agent might maximize physical outcomes using optimal training regimens.

Yet, the muscles of the individuals as well as the communal and relational aspects of exercise — the camaraderie, shared struggle, and human connection — would vanish.

For Tang, this underscores a fundamental limitation of AI: its inability to replicate what she terms “relational virtues,” capacities grounded in human agency and what she terms “civic muscles.” Even as AI and humanoid capabilities advance, she said, such relational dimensions would remain uniquely human.

In response, Tang said she and her team have been working on Civic AI, a framework that utilizes AI systems to boost, rather than replace, social connections. She that that the framework does not optimize engagement through enragement but instead through including more citizens in the network.

She added that the Civic AI framework is based on six pillars — five drawn from philosopher Joan Tronto: attentiveness, responsibility, competence, responsiveness, and solidarity. The sixth pillar, Tang stated, is symbiosis: running as locally as possible, as opposed to a one-size-fits-all overlord.

Tang further noted that since the watershed moment of AlphaGo’s breakthrough in 2016, defeating even the best human champions, Taiwan has been rethinking its national curriculum.

Education, she said, can no longer be premised on training students to strictly follow objective rules or to optimize for standardized test scores — tasks at which machines already outperform humans.

She acknowledged the new curriculum in Taiwan which began in 2019. She said that to persist along the old path, would risk producing a generation that comes to resent an education system that squandered twelve formative years preparing them for competencies rendered obsolete by automation.

Instead, Tang stated, education must pivot toward three irreducibly human capacities: curiosity — the autonomy to explore and form new connections; collaboration — the ability to work across differences within a pluralistic society; and civic care — a commitment to the common good.

These qualities, Tang emphasized, are not merely skills but relational virtues, and remain fundamentally beyond the reach of AI.

She said that with this approach, it would be wrong to ask whether AI would take away human meaning. The right question to ask, Tang said, was whether AI would force people to act like machines or would it foster more curiosity, collaboration and civic care.

Audrey Tang talks about data and digitalization. (TCN)
Audrey Tang talks about data and digitalization. (TCN)

Medical scholar: from function to meaning

Liu Chin-hsuan (劉靖琁), an associate professor of occupational therapy at I-Shou University in southern Taiwan, situated AI anxiety within a broader existential framework at a late March lecture at National Chengchi University.

The core issue, she said, is not merely technological displacement, but a deeper conflation of human worth with productivity. “In the AI era, we must move from being tools to being authors of meaning,” she said.

Liu demonstrated a critical distinction between “instrumental value” — the measurable outputs captured on résumés — and the fuller essence of personhood, which encompasses lived experience, relationships, and identity.

She opened her speech by stating “You may have read about my past achievements and the positions I’ve held on my résumé, but you do not know who I am.”

While AI can simulate empathy through language, she said, it lacks the capacity for genuine accompaniment — the ability to truly “be with” someone through shared experience.

She also highlighted the impending rise of “physical AI” — robots endowed with both cognitive and motor capabilities — as a more disquieting frontier.

Rather than competing with machines in domains of speed or efficiency, Liu urged individuals to redefine their aspirations. Just as no one competes with Olympic sprinters in everyday life, humans need not rival AI in repetitive or high-speed tasks, tasks she deemed as exerting “functions and efficiency” rather than humanity.

Instead, Liu said the challenge is introspective: to determine “who one wishes to become,” rather than merely optimizing outputs. She stated that past generations were conditioned to compete on productivity and efficiency — to execute tasks ever faster and with greater precision. Yet these are precisely the domains in which AI now excels.

When deployed effectively, such technologies may render nearly everyone more efficient; however, disparities in advancement will persist. Promotions, she noted, will not be determined by output alone, but by distinctly human factors that resist quantification, such as how one interacts with different stakeholders.

In this context, Liu argued, individuals must disentangle their sense of self from metrics — recognizing that they are not reducible to their output, grades, or KPI indicators — and instead confront a more fundamental question: who they aspire to become, and what kind of person they wish to grow into.

Liu emphasized the irreplaceability of human decision-making in contexts that transcend quantifiable metrics. Whether choosing a life partner or navigating moral dilemmas, individuals must define their own evaluative frameworks — something no algorithm can prescribe.

She illustrated this through a thought experiment: when faced with the choice between marrying an immensely wealthy partner or one who is deeply loving and principled, AI may map out the respective advantages and trade-offs, but the final judgment rests irreducibly with the individual.

Beyond data and metrics, she emphasized, human life is deeply embedded in a social fabric, shaped by subjective qualities and interpersonal dynamics — such as whether one is genuinely liked or trusted by others — factors that elude straightforward quantification yet remain central to how lives are lived and valued.

Liu Chin-hsuan talks about humanity and human meaning in the age of AI. (National Chengchi University)
Liu Chin-hsuan talks about humanity and human meaning in the age of AI. (National Chengchi University)

Her advocacy of “digital retreats” — intentional disconnection from devices to reconnect with nature and human relationships — further reflected a growing desire to reclaim experiential authenticity in an increasingly mediated world.

Reclaiming the human core

Across these perspectives, a coherent narrative emerges. AI, for all its transformative potential, is not an existential adversary but a clarifying force — one that compels societies to reassess what they value.

For Taiwan, a society long defined by its technological prowess, this moment represents both a challenge and an opportunity. The path forward, these thinkers suggest, lies not in outpacing machines on their own terms, but in deepening the qualities that machines cannot emulate: individuality, relationality, and the capacity to ascribe meaning.

In doing so, Taiwan may not only navigate the age of AI, but also offer a model — like Tang’s Civic AI framework — for others grappling with the same uncertainties.