by Muhammad Aurangzeb Ahmad

There is a particular moment of weakness that most of us recognize without needing to name it. You are lying in your bed, it is late at night. The light from the phone is brighter than the background in the room. The day has thinned your patience as well as your judgment. You click on posts and stories what you would otherwise have ignored. You may even be tempted to buy what you do not need. In other words, your guard is down. You read for a few seconds and then doom scroll to the next story and then the next. You feel like going to sleep but then you lie to yourself, one more scroll.” Welcome to the world of attention economy. It is basically a system in which human focus is treated as a scarce resource to be captured, measured, and monetized by digital platforms. The attention economy began with a relatively simple goal i.e., capture and hold the gaze. Over time, that ambition evolved into not just focusing on what you like but also focusing on when you are least able to resist. Timing, not just taste, has become the new frontier that these algorithms focus on. While it is true that these platforms were informed by decades of research on human psychology, they do not need to understand us in any deep, human sense. What they do need to do is to predict when you are tired, lonely, bored, anxious, or depleted. It is precisely in these states of vulnerability that it is easier to influence people and steal their attention.
Behavioral science has long recognized that cognition is not constrained by what else is going on in one’s life. Decision fatigue is real. Cognitive depletion makes us more suggestible. Our skepticism varies with sleep, stress, and emotional load. What has changed is that our devices now emit a steady exhaust of behavioral signals that correlate with these states. The phone does not know that you are lonely. It does not need to. It only needs to register that your scrolling pattern has slowed, that you are lingering on certain kinds of content, that the hour is late, that your interactions look different from your baseline. Correlation at scale does not need understanding. The use of human vulnerability is not a rhetorical device, it is anchored in behavioral research. Read more »

There has long been a temptation in science to imagine one system that can explain everything. For a while, that dream belonged to physics, whose practitioners, armed with a handful of equations, could describe the orbits of planets and the spin of electrons. In recent years, the torch has been seized by artificial intelligence. With enough data, we are told, the machine will learn the world. If this sounds like a passing of the crown, it has also become, in a curious way, a rivalry. Like the cinematic conflict between vampires and werewolves in the Underworld franchise, AI and physics have been cast as two immortal powers fighting for dominion over knowledge. AI enthusiasts claim that the laws of nature will simply fall out of sufficiently large data sets. Physicists counter that data without principle is merely glorified curve-fitting.
In recent years chatbots powered by large language models have been slowing moving to the pulpit. Tools like 












Everyone grieves in their own way. For me, it meant sifting through the tangible remnants of my father’s life—everything he had written or signed. I endeavored to collect every fragment of his writing, no matter profound or mundane – be it verses from the Quran or a simple grocery list. I wanted each text to be a reminder that I could revisit in future. Among this cache was the last document he ever signed: a do-not-resuscitate directive. I have often wondered how his wishes might have evolved over the course of his life—especially when he had a heart attack when I was only six years old. Had the decision rested upon us, his children, what path would we have chosen? I do not have definitive answers, but pondering on this dilemma has given me questions that I now have to revisit years later in the form of improving ethical decision making at the end-of-life scenarios. To illustrate, consider Alice, a fifty-year-old woman who had an accident and is incapacitated. The physicians need to decide whether to resuscitate her or not. Ideally there is an 

When I think about AI, I think about poor Queen Elizabeth.