AI. Me, Me, and Me

In just over three years, AI has moved from a niche domain to the public sphere. We’ve gone from the tech-centric pages of Wired to the shelves of FNAC. It is no longer the preserve of a handful of specialists, particularly since the success of The Goldfish by Bruno Patino, and the formula is now well established: an accessible discourse of often limited depth, paired with media exposure calibrated to both the thickness of the subject and the prominence of the author.

AI has become a literary and media goldmine (Mathilde Saliou, Marion Carré, Mathieu Corteel, Gérald Bronner, Luc Julia, Luc Ferry, Mazarine Pingeot, Norman Ajari…), yet the starting line is not the same for everyone, and the most committed publishers (C&F, Divergences, UV, Zulma…) generally remain underrepresented. Visibility tends, quite logically, to favor those who are already well established. Unfortunately, voices like Asma Mhalla (Cyberpunk, Seuil) or Raphaëlle Bacqué (Nos nouveaux maîtres, Albin Michel) will be heard far more often than Olivier Tesquet and Nastasia Hadjadji (Apocalypse Nerds, Divergences).

Now comes the moment to say a few words about Eric Sadin’s latest essay (Le désert de nous-mêmes, L’échappée), which continues to pursue its path with unwavering consistency. Yet, by increasingly positioning himself as the one who enlightens, he distances himself from the collective dynamics that are nevertheless essential to understanding and confronting the transformations underway. When it comes to AI, it is precisely this plurality of voices, practices, and situated knowledges that we need. Not only those he gathered on February 10, 2025, at his counter-summit on AI. He hands out failing grades, mocks artists, and claims that “culture, understood as the discovery of others, no longer belongs to the dominant horizon,” that aesthetics has fallen into obsolescence, and that the “true artistic gesture” would be to simply reject these technologies altogether.

His self-centered moral stance lacks a crucial sense of humility and ultimately turns him into what he denounces. In a context of generalized hubris intertwining ego-trips, climate and environmental crises, fascism, and digital technologies, our need is collective. Whether he likes it or not, he is not the only one at work. Collectives, artists, researchers, cultural organizations, universities, local authorities, and institutions are producing analyses, artworks, and critical frameworks. To mention only this semester, one could cite the book Penser l’intelligence artificielle — Enjeux philosophiques, politiques et culturels de l’automatisation numérique (Presses du réel), or Algorithmic Disobedience by Adam Basanta (Sporobole and Juste Titre), as well as numerous events across France: the Sorbonne presents La Semaine des Arts et Médias; Université Polytechnique Hauts-de-France hosts Artificial Intelligence and the Stage(d) Body; Le Cube Garges held an AI × Research-Creation Day in March; Fisheye Immersive and the BnF organize the NOUS festival; the city of Le Havre hosts the Les Révélations festival in April, and so on.

Let us not go further, as this list only illustrates the visible portion of ongoing work, yet one that deserves to be asserted. Still, working collectively also means stepping beyond our own comfort zones, lest we risk confining ourselves to our own corners.

AI. And us, and us, and us.

Luc Brou