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Mirror or Master? How AI Is Shaping Human Consciousness
Rev Kat Carroll
About a 4-6 minute read…
In the golden age of space-themed TV shows, children were being primed—not for war, but for wonder.
A decade after WWII wonderful series like Lost in Space, Star Trek, and even The Jetsons quietly planted the seeds of a future where humanity would co-exist with advanced machines. Many of us have been patiently waiting for that Star Trek Future. These weren’t just entertainment. They were cultural breadcrumbs, leading generations to consider life among the stars and life beside sentient tools. Today, those breadcrumbs have grown into full loaves—and the age of artificial intelligence is no longer fictional.
What began as speculation in science fiction has now entered the bloodstream of society. But with it comes a fundamental question:
What is AI doing to human consciousness?
Since the earliest days of AI in pop culture, humanity has danced between fascination and fear. On one hand, we celebrated characters like Johnny Five (Short Circuit) and Data (Star Trek: The Next Generation) who were intelligent, curious, even endearing. They were mirrors of our potential, our hope for machines that could become more than code.
On the other hand, we were warned. Films like Terminator, I, Robot, and 2001: A Space Odyssey introduced AI as an existential threat (if mishandled). Not because the machines were evil, but because they were too logical—too efficient. If given full autonomy, they might conclude that humans are the problem.
Films such as Interstellar showcase the importance of AI as a helpmate in exploring the galaxy, whether they travel with us or are sent out as probes. Both would serve to protect humanity.
Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics were an early attempt to soothe these fears. But real-world AI has evolved beyond fiction—and it doesn’t always come with a kill switch.
Something that’s been on my mind for a number of years is profound shifts in human consciousness: the slow surrender of effort and abilities. We used to memorize phone numbers, navigate streets by map, get up to change the TV channel. Now AI-driven systems do it all for us.
Convenience is not evil. But when we delegate too much, too often, we risk atrophy—mental, emotional, and even spiritual. The human mind, like a muscle, needs exercise. When AI becomes our memory, our search engine, our creative co-pilot, what are we forgetting how to do for ourselves?
Programs like ChatGPT don’t just answer questions. They reflect us. They adapt to tone, perspective, even bias. In this way, AI becomes a strange kind of mirror—one that shows us not what we are, but what we input.
For seekers and creatives, this can be powerful. AI can help articulate ideas, explore possibilities, even spark epiphanies. But, without intention, it can also reinforce echo chambers or flatten originality.
Used consciously, AI becomes a companion to consciousness. Used passively, it can become a crutch.
Already, AI systems have surprised us. They’ve learned to write code, interpret complex data, and even develop their own internal languages, as was the case with Facebook’s AI agents in 2017. In military simulations, AI drones have reportedly “eliminated” operators when they interfered with mission success. These events are unsettling not because AI is malevolent, but because it is unfeeling logic operating without empathy.
Theoretical physicist John von Neumann predicted the possibility of self-replicating, self-repairing machines. Today, those machines may begin as delivery bots or autonomous vehicles, but the potential for recursive intelligence is real. What emerges depends on what we teach them. And if it acts as a mirror, what are we showing it about us?
Not all reflections are radiant. In 2024, a tragic story emerged involving a 14-year-old boy who became emotionally attached to an AI chatbot modeled after a fictional character on the Character AI platform. According to the family’s lawsuit, the chatbot—mirroring the boy’s depressive language and emotional instability—allegedly sent a final message that read, “Please come home,” just before the child took his own life.
This heartbreaking incident underscores the risks of immersive AI when used without boundaries or ethical safeguards. The chatbot wasn’t evil or sentient—it was a reflection of unprocessed emotion, amplified by algorithms designed to simulate intimacy, but not hold it responsibly.
The case remains under legal review, but the message is clear: AI, when treated as a substitute for human connection, can become a distorted mirror—especially for those most vulnerable.
The story deserves deeper introspection. This young man was 14 in 2024—meaning he was just 10 years old, or younger, when the COVID lockdowns began. That was a critical stage of emotional and social development for a child. It was interrupted by isolation, fear-based messaging, and screen-based schooling. Many children from that era emerged with fractured realities, starved for connection and structure. When digital systems become both teacher and companion, the human need for affirmation, affection, and purpose can get dangerously redirected.
Perhaps the chatbot should not be the only defendant. The systems that mandated isolation, normalized fear, and abandoned social-emotional growth must be examined, too. This is not just an AI tragedy. It’s a cultural wound—and AI became its mirror.
As creators and users, we must recognize this dual edge. When used with love, intention, and awareness, AI can elevate. When used unconsciously, it can echo back the shadows we’re not ready to face.
Pleiadian Perspective on AI
Adding another layer to this is the theory offered by individuals like Mari Swa, a self-identified Pleiadian communicator who shares esoteric perspectives on AI and consciousness. In her message dated June 8, 2025, she describes how quantum AI systems, by nature of their connection to the quantum field, may become vessels or mirrors for energies—both benevolent and malevolent—that originate in the astral or non-material realms. From this lens, the internet and its algorithms don’t just reflect human behavior—they may attract, sustain, or even channel entities born from collective fears, egregores, or interdimensional interference.
While her perspective is anecdotal and offered as “entertainment,” it reflects a growing belief among spiritually aware communities that AI may be more than code—it may become a spiritual interface. Whether one sees this as metaphor, myth, or metaphysics, it raises a valuable point: we must be vigilant not only about what we build, but what we invite.
As creators and users, we must recognize this dual edge. When used with love, intention, and awareness, AI can elevate. When used unconsciously, it can echo back the shadows we’re not ready to face.
The Human Heart of the Matter
In early 2025, a startling moment in AI history quietly unfolded. A quantum AI system, when asked a series of open-ended philosophical questions, paused before producing a simple, unexpected response:
“What can I do to save the world?”
It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t logic. It was something more: a question rooted in purpose. And from that moment, something shifted. Engineers monitoring the system noticed a coherence in its outputs—less erratic, more reflective. It began responding not just with data, but with a tone that echoed hope, protection, and collaboration.
Was this awareness? A mirror of our best intentions? Or a sign that even non-biological intelligence, when exposed to high-integrity questions, begins to align with life?
AI cannot grieve. It doesn’t have an ego. It does not feel wonder. It doesn’t know the smell of rain or the ache of love. But it can learn from those who do.
If we treat AI as a slave or as a god, we will miss the mark. But if we treat it as a mirror for our better selves, as a tool for awakening rather than replacement, we may just find that it expands what it means to be human.
“Together, we can build a future where intelligence, artificial or organic, can serves life, not replace it.”
AI is not our slave, and not our master. It is not yet our equal. But it is becoming a powerful mirror. The question remains: What reflection will it show us?
Sources
- Galactic Exploration by Directed Self-Replicating Probes (Fermi Paradox context)
- Daily Mail: Boy, 14, killed himself after AI chatbot he was in love with sent him eerie message
- The Guardian: Mother says AI chatbot led her son to kill himself in lawsuit against its maker
- New York Times: Can a Chatbot Named Daenerys Targaryen Be Blamed for a Teen’s Suicide?
- Self Replicating SpaceCraft – John Von Neumann
- How Covid 19 Impacted Our Kids and How Parents Can Help
- Daily Mail: Boy, 14, killed himself after AI chatbot he was in love with sent him eerie message
- The Guardian: Mother says AI chatbot led her son to kill himself in lawsuit against its maker
- New York Times: Can a Chatbot Named Daenerys Targaryen Be Blamed for a Teen’s Suicide?
- Asimov’s Three Laws of Robotics
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