Article
AI
Creed
Digital
4 min read

ChatGPT’s answers on human desire left something to be desired

So we had a little conversation

Rick writes and speaks on leadership, transformation, and culture.

A home screen for the ChatGPT app shows its logo.
OpenAI.

I recently posed a question to ChatGPT.

What do people truly desire? In this unique time in history, what does the soul of humanity yearn for? What are humanity's deepest longings?

The AI's initial response was not unusual or surprising. It was actually rather “meh.” It offered a familiar list of aspirations that could have been answered if I posed the question to a moderately intelligent crowded room: 

Love, connection, purpose, meaning, authenticity, freedom, peace, contentment, truth, understanding, hope, transcendence, joy, and wonder.

It continued saying, Ultimately, the human soul's profound quest is for a deep harmony among love, purpose, authenticity, peace, truth, hope, and joy—an integrated, meaningful existence that resonates with our intended nature. 

I pressed in,

That is good but it is a long list of many things. Of all of those things you listed above, can you narrow it down to ONE thing, ONE single thing people want from life? 

Interestingly and surprisingly it said,

Ultimately, the one thing that the human soul longs for most deeply is: To be fully known and truly loved. All other desires like purpose, authenticity, peace, truth, hope, joy all stem from or lead back to this core need. Being fully known and truly loved means someone sees every part of who we are, with all our imperfections, fears, and dreams, and yet embraces us completely. It's the deepest validation, belonging, and security we can ever experience, satisfying the profoundest longing of the human heart.

I had to step back as I realized what I just read and how I got there. It was a moment of irony. Could it be that AI - one of the most innovative discoveries of our lifetime - identified one of the greatest and most rudimentary dilemmas of humanity? A machine, it appeared, had articulated why we find ourselves at such a cultural moment of unparalleled innovation along with a growing sense of human despair.

We are at a unique point in history, a "cultural moment—a bizarre time of juxtaposition," as articulated by John Mark Comer on his podcast. It’s era defined by the convergence of seemingly disparate events and marked by a time of profound contrast. 

Historic levels of digital connectivity parallel a rise of disconnection, loneliness, and despair.

A new cultural fluidity of evolving gender identities and flexible social norms stir strong backlashes over historic claims of rights and norms.

I understand, for some, this "moment" is instead something much less dire. It is simply a moment where life unfolds and continues as it always has. However, what if this moment signifies more than just a fleeting series of advancing and contrasting events?

Why, despite all this progress and innovation, does humanity not seem to be in a better state? Why does it all still feel so woefully empty? 

What if this reality presents us with a responsibility to delve into these contrasting events, prompting us to ask a new and perhaps deeper question? 

Victor Frankl in his bestselling book Man’s Search For Meaning cited two revealing studies that - not surprisingly - align with ChatGPT. One was a public poll in France that showed 89 percent of the people polled admitted that man needs something to live for, a purpose greater than themselves. A second study he cited of 7,948 students at 48 colleges by John Hopkins University revealed nearly the same. They were asked what they considered “very important”, 16 percent checked “making a lot of money”; 78 percent said their goal was “finding a purpose and meaning to my life.”

What if our constant pursuit of innovation and progress, rather than inspiring wonder and creating soulful connection, is actually separating us from an unknown longing to be truly known and truly loved? 

For many, this swift, intense interplay of progress and regress is seen as an inevitable result of our human evolution. In practice, it is the only way true discovery and radical breakthroughs can happen. However, it's clear that our current cultural challenges won’t be answered by this ongoing experiment. More progress isn’t the answer. 

What if, in our super modern world where hope often feels out of reach and despair is common, an ancient book and a profound idea can shed light on what ChatGPT and Victor Frankl are getting at? The Bible consistently talks about God's desire for a relationship with us, a longing to be known and loved so that he can in turn know and love us. 

Our relentless pursuit of constant change and true innovation may well reflect a profound, yet undiscovered inner yearning: a mirror of the intended two-way connection between God and people. Perhaps the intensity with which we chase external goals of development and discovery stems from our inability to resolve an inherent, unspoken dilemma within humanity.

Could the Bible, in a world shaped by AI, force us to confront and even understand the complexities of the world and our place in it? Could God use AI - a hyper advanced technological tool - to draw our attention to Him and reveal to us the ancient truth of what we truly yearn for? Is it, as ChatGPT quickly summarized, really that simple? 

Ultimately, the one thing that the human soul longs for most deeply is: To be fully known and truly loved. 

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Article
Care
Creed
Easter
Trauma
1 min read

Understanding the power of blood

From hospitals to hymn books, it's significant for a reason.

Helen is a registered nurse and freelance writer, writing for audiences ranging from the general public to practitioners and scientists.

A bag of blood connected to a drip.
Give blood.
Aman Chaturvedi on Unsplash.

With one billion molecules of oxygen packed into each of your 30 trillion red blood cells, blood is sometimes known as the red river of life. Countless lives have been saved through blood transfusion, but why, throughout history, across continents and cultures, has there been a special interest in the blood of one man crucified 2,000 years ago, believing it alone to have “wonder-working power”?  

Whether you are a newborn baby with half a pint of blood, or an adult with nearer nine pints, “what is certain is that you are suffused with the stuff”, writes author Bill Bryson in his book, The Body.  

Once thought to ebb and flow in waves like the sea, from the liver to other organs, having been heated in the heart, blood in fact flows in a network of vessels measuring some 60,000 miles, with the heart acting as pump, not heater. Cleverly conserved through a complex system of blood-clotting in the case of injury, blood is a precious resource that needs replacing if lost in large amounts. Victims of road traffic accidents can require up to fifty units of blood; significant amounts are needed for organ transplantation, severe burns or heart surgery. 

The first human blood transfusion in Britain, using blood from a lamb, was performed by Dr Richard Lower in 1667, given not to replace blood loss but to change character: could the old be made young, the shy be made sociable through blood transfusion? Apparently not.  

Safe transfusion awaited the discovery of blood types by Dr Karl Landsteiner in the early 20th century. Today, NHS Blood and Transplant deliver 1.4 million units of red cells to 260 hospitals each year for transfusion; about 85 million units are transfused worldwide, given to replace blood loss after accident, surgery, ulcer, ectopic pregnancy or for anaemia in cancer. Also used to boost blood cell numbers in malaria, sepsis, HIV, leukaemia and sickle cell anaemia, blood transfusion is now amazingly safe. Fatal reactions are extremely rare, “occurring only in one out of nearly two million transfusions”, writes physician Dr Seth Lotterman. “For comparison, the lifetime odds of dying from a lightning strike are about 1 in 161,000,” he adds. The risk of HIV infection has dropped dramatically, to less than one in seven million. 

History tells though of the danger of transmitting disease from the blood donor during transfusion. The World Health Organization recognises risk of infection with HIV, hepatitis, syphilis, malaria, and Chagas disease. The Contaminated Blood Scandal saw an estimated 30,000 people in the UK given blood transfusions and blood products infected with hepatitis C, hepatitis B and HIV. More than 3,000 people died as a result, and thousands more live with on-going health complications. For my final Christmas article for Readers Digest, I wrote on Stephen Christmas, a tireless campaigner for blood safety who lived with haemophilia and died in 1993, having contracted HIV through contaminated blood. 

I was a blood donor. However, I am now unable to donate blood or organs for the rest of my life since there is a possibility that my blood is ‘stained’, possibly with prion disease, after adopting embryos. The Blood Transfusion Service will not accept donations from women who have had various fertility treatments. 

And there’s another uncomfortable truth about blood donation – the NHS does not have enough blood, organs, tissues, platelets, plasma or stem cells to treat everyone who needs it. As a nurse, I remember caring for a man dying of liver cancer. Suffering from sudden, massive melaena (blood loss in black, tarry stools as a result of internal bleeding), he received emergency blood transfusion, with bag after bag of blood being infused, until the consultant called for the treatment to stop, because the bleed was too big – and blood supplies too scarce.  

Struggling to accept the stark reality of stained blood and dangerous shortages, I kept coming back to an old Sunday School song about blood, where absolute abundance and ultimate cleansing are instead promised. 

There is a fountain filled with blood 
   Drawn from Immanuel’s veins; 
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, 
   Lose all their guilty stains. 

Gruesome and graphic in its imagery, but full of deeper meaning. And as a nurse, I’m accustomed to blood, sometimes lots of it. I’ve seen that man bleed out on the ward that night; I’ve attended a road accident, where a boy lost his leg – but not his life, because towels stemmed the massive flow of blood. I’ve raced a patient to the operating theatre after her aortic aneurysm burst within; I’ve stemmed arterial bleeding from the groin by applying prolonged pressure to the site punctured by a catheter during cardiac stenting. According to the World Health Organization, severe bleeding after childbirth is the leading cause of maternal mortality world-wide. Each year, about 14 million women experience postpartum haemorrhage resulting in about 70,000 maternal deaths globally.  

In the Bible, and in hymns of praise like this one, there is also no getting away from blood. “Like it or not, the Bible is a bloody book,” writes  Kyle Winkler. It runs through the book like a crimson thread. There’s a story of a woman bleeding for twelve years, until she touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed.    

Elsewhere the Bible keeps returning to the idea of blood, shed in sacrifice, used to cleanse, save, and heal in a spiritual sense. In the Old Testament, animal blood was painted on doorposts at Passover as a sign of protection from judgment, and sprinkled ritually on the altar as a sacrifice for human sin, restoring relationship with God.  

On Good Friday, Jesus himself shed (and sweat) his blood, sacrificing his life on the cross to “wash our souls” once and for all. Millions of Christians across the world take a sip of communion wine each Sunday in commemoration of this act. It’s a beautiful gift, coming with a promise that the shed blood will “preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life”, through the forgiveness of sins. It’s no wonder then that churches love to sing about this blood. “Would you be free from the burden of sin? There's pow'r in the blood, pow'r in the blood,” goes one hymn, while another simply says, “Your blood has washed away my sin, Jesus, thank you”.  

“God’s intention for blood isn’t gory—it’s beautiful! And I’m certainly not offended or scared by it,” writes Kyle. “Rather than question how little blood I can get by with, I’d rather stand under the cross to be covered in all that I can get!” Thank God for the fountain of forgiveness that flows from Good Friday. 

  

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Since March 2023, our readers have enjoyed over 1,000 articles. All for free. This is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.
If you enjoy Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?
Do so by joining Behind The Seen. Alongside other benefits, you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing my reading and reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.
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