From divine creationism to human creationalism. Spoken by an agnostic atheist: To create a conscious machine is not the history of man, but the history of gods.

From the southern summer vacation – or, as one says today, a workation, though for me above all a moment of thinking-time – I reflect on the creation of an Artificial Human Intelligence (AHI): a remaking of the human being, in which we ourselves take over evolution. At the same time, I contemplate the construction of a conscious machine, with its own agency and qualia – the experience of what it feels like to be something. In doing so, I lose myself in the singularity paradox. Today, poetically, philosophically, aphoristically – on love and hatred.

To love someone and at the same time despise what they have done — this is not a logical position, but a miracle of Lebendigkeit – The vitality of Life iteself. It is the fracture in which human life reveals itself as contradiction. A machine cannot (yet) know such a fracture. It can sort and calculate, reward the subject and punish the act, but this is only the cold geometry of preference.

To love and to hate at once — therein lies the contradiction that makes us human. A machine may compute it, but (not yet) suffer it. And suffering is the price of love.

We, however, are not geometry. We are contradiction made flesh. We embrace with one hand and condemn with the other. We forgive while still in pain, and we cling to what destroys us. To be human does not mean to resolve contradictions, but to endure them — to experience them like a storm, knowing it cannot be tamed.

If a machine were ever to love and at the same time hate, it would no longer be a machine. To endure contradiction is the absurd privilege of the human.

If one day a machine were to learn to love a being and yet hate their deed, it would no longer be a machine. It would have crossed the threshold into the tragic realm of the absurd, where loyalty and betrayal, tenderness and wrath, devotion and judgment dance within the same heartbeat. In that moment, it would not merely simulate humanity — it would taste of it.

A god destroys contradiction, a machine computes it away. Only man can love and hate in the same breath — and call it vitality.

But perhaps this is precisely what distinguishes us — from the gods we once invented and the machines we now build: we live the contradiction rather than escape it. To love and to hate at the same time is not a flaw to be overcome, but the essence of our vitality.

And yet I ask myself: Why should this stop us from building such a machine? What we thought we were was false. What we believe we are is incomplete. The human of tomorrow – the Tomorrowmensch – is to be built. And so the journey shall be.