Skip to content
Blogcritical thinking
Living With An Alien Storyteller
10
Reza Zad's avatarReza Zad

Listen: Living With An Alien Storyteller

0:000:00

Living With An Alien Storyteller

1. The uncomfortable question Nexus put in my head

After reading Nexus, one question stayed with me and kept echoing in the background of my days:

If humans are so clever, why do we keep driving ourselves toward disaster?

We can send rockets into space, decode DNA, and design models like AI. At the same time, we damage our own planet, flirt with war, and build tools that might harm us.

For a long time I thought the answer was simple. Maybe humans are just selfish or broken by nature. Nexus offered a different view that felt both scary and strangely hopeful:

The main problem is not who we are.
The main problem is what we believe.

Give basically decent people bad information, and they will still make terrible decisions.

That idea was the thread of the whole book for me. Once I pulled on it, everything else started to make sense.


2. Facts do not move people, stories do

One of the big things I learned is how weak facts are on their own.

You can know the physics of how a rocket works and still never build one. To launch a rocket, run a hospital, or create a social movement, millions of people have to cooperate.

  • Facts explain how things work.
  • Stories explain why we should care.

Behind every huge project there is a story that gives people a reason to wake up, show up, and keep going, even when the work is boring or hard.

Think of something modern, like creating a new vaccine. You need:

  • Scientists in labs
  • Engineers building machines
  • Nurses and doctors giving doses
  • Drivers moving supplies
  • Farmers growing food so everyone can eat while they work

Telling all these people “Here are the facts about proteins and viruses” is not enough. Facts will not make thousands of people move in one direction.

What actually moves them is a story.
A story about saving lives, protecting families, defending the country, or growing the economy.

Nexus helped me see that our world is built from these invisible stories:

  • Countries are stories we agreed to believe.
  • Money is a story we agreed to believe.
  • Companies and brands are stories we agreed to believe.

These stories are powerful. They coordinate millions of strangers without any of them ever meeting in person.

So the real power in the world is not held by the people who only know the facts. It is held by the people who shape the stories.

That connects deeply to storytelling as one of the core human skills I care about. Stories are not decoration. They are infrastructure.


3. The new storyteller in the room: a non-human mind

For most of human history, only humans could invent stories. Every song, every holy book, every ideology, every economic theory came from a human brain.

Now something new is in the room with us.

AI can write poems, generate images, compose music, suggest strategies, and invent new “games” for us to play. It is starting to create many of the cultural objects we live inside.

That was one of the most unsettling insights from Nexus for me. We are slowly moving from:

“Humans live inside human made stories”

to

“Humans live inside stories written partly by non human minds”

AI does not get tired. It does not sleep. It can explore patterns and strategies in ways we cannot even imagine, like AlphaGo did in the game of Go. It discovered winning moves that humans did not consider for thousands of years.

This is exciting and frightening at the same time:

  • Exciting, because AI can reveal new ideas, tools, and solutions.
  • Frightening, because we do not fully understand how it thinks or on which “stories” it will train our minds.

Nexus helped me drop the illusion that AI is just a neutral tool. The more it generates texts, images, and decisions, the more it becomes a shaper of culture.

In other words, a storyteller.


4. How new information tools quietly reshape power

Another key lesson from the book is that new information technology always reshapes society, even when the tech looks simple.

Writing started with something as basic as marks on clay. That shift allowed kings and officials to store records, track land, and collect taxes. Suddenly a distant ruler could know who owned which field. That changed ownership, power and control.

The pattern repeats:

  • Writing enabled kingdoms and empires.
  • Mass media, like radio and television, enabled both modern democracies and totalitarian regimes.
  • Now AI and digital networks are enabling something even more radical.

Earlier information systems were limited by human bodies and brains. People needed to sleep, rest, and take days off. Even in the most controlling regimes, there were always gaps where no one was watching you.

Modern AI systems do not need rest. They can watch, analyse and decide around the clock. They can process more information than any human could handle.

That leads to a few important risks:

  • Less privacy, because more of our daily life can be tracked, stored and analysed.
  • Less “off time”, because markets, news and platforms run twenty four hours a day.
  • Less understanding of decisions, because opaque algorithms may decide who gets a loan, a job, or medical treatment.

What hit me is how this changes the feeling of life. You can start to feel like you are always in a job interview, always being evaluated by systems you do not see and cannot fully question.

As an organic, tired, emotional human, that is exhausting.


5. Information is cheap, truth is expensive

Another big insight from Nexus is the difference between “information” and “truth”.

We often treat them as the same thing. They are not.

Most information in the world is not true. It is:

  • Opinion
  • Propaganda
  • Fantasy
  • Guesswork
  • Manipulation

Creating noise is very easy. You can draw a face of a historical figure without any research. You can write a story about an event without checking any facts.

Creating truth is hard and expensive. It needs:

  • Time
  • Evidence
  • Verification
  • People who are trained and paid to check things

When the world gets flooded with information, the truth does not rise to the top by itself. It can actually sink and disappear underwater.

This part of the book connected strongly with what I already feel about attention and critical thinking in the age of AI. Our minds are surrounded by feeds and headlines that compete for emotional reaction, not for accuracy.

So the question becomes:

How do I protect my mind in a world where stories are cheap and truth is rare?

Nexus suggests that we need strong, living institutions that are able to correct themselves, like good science, solid journalism, and healthy democracy. These systems are not perfect, but they build in ways to admit mistakes and change course.

Without such self correcting systems, powerful AI in the hands of total control can become extremely dangerous.


6. What Nexus changed in how I want to live

Reading Nexus did not give me a simple answer or a clear prediction of the future. Instead, it changed how I want to behave in the present.

Here are a few personal shifts I took from the book.

6.1. Be more careful with the stories I swallow

I want to slow down and ask:

  • Who is telling this story?
  • What do they gain if I believe it?
  • Does it help me care about real humans or only about an abstract tribe?

This is where critical thinking meets storytelling. The goal is not to reject all stories. The goal is to see them clearly, instead of being unconsciously ruled by them.

6.2. Protect human conversation

Democracy is basically a large, messy conversation. If that conversation is filled with bots, fake people, and persuasive algorithms pretending to be humans, trust collapses.

One simple rule I like from Nexus is this: if an AI is talking, it should say that it is an AI. If we cannot tell who is human and who is not, honest dialogue becomes almost impossible.

So in my own life, I want to value spaces where actual people speak as themselves. Slower, less polished, but real.

6.3. Take an “information diet” seriously

Just like food, not all information is healthy. Constant input of fear, outrage and gossip will shape my inner world.

So I want to:

  • Have regular breaks from feeds and news
  • Choose a few trusted sources instead of endless random links
  • Give my mind time to digest instead of always adding more

In a way, this is also about imagination and empathy. When the mind is not flooded, there is space to feel, to imagine, and to care again.

6.4. Stay human in an AI age

Finally, Nexus reminded me of the skills that remain deeply human:

  • The ability to question and reflect
  • The ability to feel with others without losing myself
  • The ability to tell and reshape stories
  • The ability to imagine different futures

AI can help with all of these, but it does not replace them. It reflects the consciousness of whoever uses it.

So my main takeaway is simple:

If I want a wise future with AI, I have to become a wiser human now.
I have to choose my stories more carefully, guard the quality of my information, and practice the soft skills that make us human in the first place.

Nexus did not answer the question “Will we destroy ourselves or not”. No book can do that.

What it gave me is something more practical:
A clearer view of the invisible forces shaping my mind, and a deeper responsibility for the stories I choose to believe, spread, and live by.

Picks for you

The AI Race Is Not a Technology Race

The AI Race Is Not a Technology Race

The AI race is often framed as a competition of intelligence, models, and algorithms, but this essay argues that it is fundamentally an energy allocation problem hidden beneath a narrative of innovation. AI scales not like software but like heavy industry, consuming vast amounts of electricity and triggering political, social, and infrastructural constraints that code alone cannot solve. The real bottlenecks are not technical breakthroughs, but governance issues such as permitting, grid capacity, public consent, and price stability. In this context, energy geopolitics matter less for directly powering servers and more for creating political slack, cushioning public backlash, and making controversial reallocations of power socially tolerable. The true strategic challenge is not building smarter machines, but justifying why machines should receive scarce energy before people, and doing so without eroding trust or legitimacy. If the AI era succeeds, it will be because societies align energy, politics, and meaning through a story people can live inside; if it fails, it will be because that bargain is rejected.

Read more
2026 and the Return of the Whole Mind

2026 and the Return of the Whole Mind

As we move toward 2026, many of us are sensing a quiet imbalance. We think faster, consume more information, and rely heavily on analysis, yet feel less grounded, less certain, and more disconnected from ourselves. This essay argues that the problem is not thinking itself, but thinking in isolation. For decades, logic, efficiency, and control have been rewarded while intuition, emotion, imagination, and embodied knowing were sidelined. AI now exposes this imbalance by outperforming humans in pure analysis, making it clear that competing on cognition alone is a dead end. What remains distinctly human is the ability to sense context, notice subtle signals, integrate feeling with reason, and act with timing rather than urgency. Burnout, anxiety, and chronic overthinking are framed not as weaknesses but as signals of misalignment, where inner intelligence has been ignored too long. The future will favor integrated minds, people who can think clearly while also listening inwardly, adapting without panic, and making meaning from lived experience. The return of the whole mind is not nostalgia or softness, but a necessary evolution: a widening of intelligence that allows humans to partner with technology without losing themselves.

Read more
Why Immigration Feels More Dangerous Than It Statistically Is

Why Immigration Feels More Dangerous Than It Statistically Is

Why Immigration Feels More Dangerous Than It Statistically Is explains how fear can grow even when reality stays relatively stable. Most of what we believe about crime and immigration does not come from direct experience but from repeated images, clips, and headlines designed to capture attention. The human brain uses a shortcut called the availability heuristic, it assumes that what comes to mind easily must be common. In a media environment where rare but extreme incidents are replayed endlessly, exposure replaces frequency, and repetition starts to feel like evidence. Immigration becomes a perfect container for this fear because it is complex, emotional, and easy to turn into a story with faces and villains. Long-term data often shows a calmer picture than our instincts suggest, but fear moves faster than context. The essay argues that critical thinking is not about dismissing fear, but about pausing inside it and asking whether our feelings reflect reality or visibility. When we hold that pause, understanding has room to return, and attention becomes a responsibility rather than a reflex.

Read more
Emotion as Navigation

Emotion as Navigation

Emotion as Navigation argues that emotions are not irrational reactions or inner verdicts, but feedback signals that indicate how our current reality relates to an underlying goal. We do not perceive the world neutrally and then feel about it; perception, emotion, and action form a single system oriented toward movement and adjustment. Positive emotions signal alignment, while negative emotions signal friction, misalignment, or outdated assumptions. Problems arise when we treat emotions as authority instead of information, or when the goals guiding our lives remain unexamined. Critical thinking does not suppress emotion, it interprets it by asking what aim the feeling is responding to and whether that aim still deserves commitment. When emotions are read as data rather than commands, they become a navigational compass rather than a source of confusion. A meaningful life, then, is not emotionally smooth but directionally coherent, guided by alignment rather than by the pursuit or avoidance of feelings themselves.

Read more
Thinking Under Pressure in the Age of AI

Thinking Under Pressure in the Age of AI

Thinking Under Pressure in the Age of AI argues that the real risk of AI is not incorrect answers, but how its speed, clarity, and confidence interact with human cognitive biases. Our minds rely on shortcuts designed for efficiency, and AI amplifies these shortcuts by making information feel complete, authoritative, and easy to trust. Biases shape what we notice, how we judge probability, how we commit to decisions, and how emotion quietly leads reasoning, often without awareness. Critical thinking today does not mean rejecting AI or eliminating bias, but slowing down enough to recognize when judgment is being bent by familiarity, confidence, framing, or emotional ease. As AI accelerates information flow, human responsibility shifts toward interpretation, verification, and self-awareness. When we notice our own thinking habits, AI remains a tool; when we do not, it quietly becomes the driver.

Read more
Good, Bad, and the Direction of Attention

Good, Bad, and the Direction of Attention

Good, Bad, and the Direction of Attention argues that we do not experience the world as inherently good or bad, but as helpful or obstructive relative to an often unexamined aim. Our attention, emotions, and moral judgments are shaped by the direction we are moving in, not by neutral facts. What accelerates our path feels “good,” what slows it feels “bad,” even though neither quality exists on its own. This is why people can react morally in opposite ways to the same event, they are oriented toward different goals. The danger arises when the aim itself remains invisible, because alignment then masquerades as virtue and resistance as evil. Critical thinking begins by asking what aim is generating a reaction, not by defending the reaction itself. When we examine direction before judgment, we regain freedom to question whether speed equals progress, whether friction equals harm, and whether what feels urgent actually leads somewhere meaningful.

Read more
What If We Are Living in a Simulation?

What If We Are Living in a Simulation?

What If We Are Living in a Simulation? treats simulation theory not as sci-fi speculation but as a lens for understanding why the world looks the way it does. Simulations exist to explore unknown outcomes, not to preserve harmony, and when viewed this way, suffering, chaos, and instability stop looking like errors and start looking like data. Human history, with its late arrival, layered complexity, religions, governments, markets, and now AI, resembles a staged experiment where new parameters are introduced to increase unpredictability. Meaning, in this frame, does not disappear, it intensifies. If outcomes are uncertain, then choices matter more, not less. Whether the universe is simulated or not, we already live inside conditions where agency, values, and response shape trajectories. We are not spectators waiting for answers, but variables whose actions feed the system itself. The unfinished nature of reality is not proof of meaninglessness, but evidence that participation is the point, and that how we act under uncertainty is the real test.

Read more

Comments

Sign in to join the discussion.
Loading…