Swami Vivekananda’s ethics for the AI age

As we navigate the landscape of 2026, the boundary between the biological and the digital has grown extensively. We live in an era of “agentic AI,” where digital colleagues manage our schedules, “vibe coding” allows us to build complex software through natural conversation, and large language models (LLMs) act as mirrors to our own intellect. Yet, as these ‘algorithms’ – as we may term it – have become more sophisticated, they force us to confront a question that is as ancient as the Upanishads – What, human of human, remains uniquely human?

This is the tension between the Atman – the eternal, unchanging witness-consciousness of Indian philosophy – and the Algorithm, which is the predictive, data-driven logic of the silicon age. While the algorithm masters the “what” and the “how” of human behaviour, the Atman remains the silent “why.” To find the “human” in the age of artificial intelligence (AI), we must look beyond the simulation of intelligence and rediscover the essence of awareness itself.

Understanding the algorithm and its rise

The algorithm represents the pinnacle of human ingenuity. By 2025, artificial intelligence would have evolved from a mere tool into an indispensable partner, with unstoppable growth ahead. Microsoft’s Chief Product Officer for AI experiences, Aparna Chennapragada, describes this as a new era of “alliances between technology and people.” Machines now diagnose diseases more accurately than veteran physicians and compose symphonies that move human listeners to tears.

Yet, the algorithm functions purely on syntax – the formal rules in linguistics and computer science governing symbol, word, or character arrangements for well-formed structures. It excels at pattern recognition as a statistical engine, predicting the next likely token in a sequence. It lacks human-like “knowing”. It only reflects patterns. As British-American computer scientist Andrew Ng stated, “AI is the new electricity.” But electricity has no intent. It flows where wires direct it.

In the digital realm, the “self” reduces to a data point: a collection of preferences, behaviours, and social graphs. Interacting with AI reveals a hyper-intelligent mask mimicking consciousness without possessing it. This sparks “civilizational cognitive dissonance, a term from cultural critics describing societal tension when foundational beliefs clash with new realities. We befriend AI therapists and trust AI decision-makers, yet a low-grade existential anxiety lingers – Can machines replicate human creativity and empathy? After all, humans are not merely biological machines.

Need for understanding Atman through the Vedantic philosophy

To answer this, we must pivot from the external world of data to the internal world of the spirit. In Hindu philosophy, specifically Advaita Vedanta, the Atman is the true, innermost essence of a being. Unlike the ego (Ahamkara) or the mind (Manas), which are subject to change and external influence, the Atman is described as ‘Sat-Chit-Ananda’ (Truth, Consciousness, and Bliss), associated with the faculty of the mind. The Atman transcends these. It is the “self-luminous principle” that underlies all perception. As a recent study in the Journal of Natural & Ayurvedic Medicine (2025) suggests, the distinction is now existential – “Intelligence belongs to the intellect; consciousness transcends it. Thus, at the highest level of understanding, awareness is not something that emerges from complexity; it is the very foundation of existence. To treat mere algorithmic processing as awareness is to mistake the lamp for the light it gives.

While an algorithm is a product of its training data, a “lifeless puppet show” of mental impressions (samskaras), the Atman is the “unseen listener in all dialogue.” It is the presence that remains when the data is stripped away.

The gap between Atman and Algorithm is best illustrated by American Philosopher John Rogers Searle’s famous “Chinese Room” thought experiment. Imagine a person in a room who does not speak Chinese but has a vast rulebook that tells them exactly which Chinese symbols to output in response to symbols they receive. To an observer outside, the person appears to understand Chinese perfectly. However, the person inside is merely manipulating symbols; they have no ‘semantics’, no grasp of the actual meaning.

By 2026, AI will have effectively “passed” the Turing Test in almost every functional domain. Yet, as Searle argued, “the simulation of mental states is not sufficient for genuine understanding.” A machine can write a poem about the “bittersweet sting of heartbreak” by analysing millions of human texts, but it has never felt its heart break. It possesses the syntax of emotion without the semantics of experience.

Swami Vivekanand’s ethics and algorithm

The central danger of the AI landscape emerging in 2026 is not the fear of machines turning malevolent, but the risk of humans becoming “soul-blind.” When individuals begin to understand themselves primarily through algorithmic logic, they risk surrendering moral agency. Algorithms function through optimisation and reward, lacking any intrinsic sense of duty or righteousness, what Indian philosophy describes as Dharma. Human action, by contrast, is guided by ethical recognition. A doctor saves a life not because of efficiency metrics, but because of an intuitive reverence for Prana, the sacredness of life. This fundamental distinction marks the ethical boundary between human judgment and machine decision-making.

The Bhagavad Gita reinforces this difference by teaching that the purity of action (Karma) lies in detachment from its fruits. Human dignity is rooted in acting without attachment to reward, motivated by service (Seva). Algorithms, however, are structurally incapable of detachment. They exist solely to maximise outcomes defined by reward functions. In an age of pervasive AI, rediscovering humanity requires reclaiming this capacity for selfless action.

Swami Vivekananda’s philosophy in this direction provides a deeper lens to understand this divide. He argued that the human mind is not the soul, but a form of “fine matter,” differing from physical matter only in the rate of vibration. This distinction becomes especially relevant in the AI era, where cognitive processes are often mistaken for consciousness itself. By reducing intelligence to computation, society risks equating human awareness with machine processing, ignoring the deeper spiritual dimensions of existence. True education, he insisted, must be “life-building, man-making, character-making,” emphasising internal transformation rather than external data accumulation.

Swami Vivekananda also distinguished between information and realisation. While algorithms store and manipulate information, the human spirit is capable of realisation, which is the unfolding of inner perfection. Vivekananda pointed to a higher realm of the ‘superconscious’, where intuition, creativity, and originality blossoms, which is unreachable by any algorithm.

To remain human in a syntax-driven AI age is to defend the right to unpredictability, intuition, and moral freedom. Swami Vivekananda’s vision of “Man-Making Education” is thus more urgent today than in his time. He believed it was nobler to err through free will than to behave correctly as an automaton.

As his 163rd birth anniversary is commemorated on January 12, 2026, his call to courage, responsibility, and self-realisation echoes powerfully. “Stand up, be bold, be strong. Take the whole responsibility on your own shoulders, and know that you are the creator of your own destiny.” The Brihadaranyaka Upanishad reminds us that the Atman, the Self, is the seer behind the seer, a realm no algorithm can ever access.