Maybe you weren’t born in a time when technology and human behavior were two completely separate conversations, but I was. I remember leaving the house and no one knowing where I was, what time I would return, or how to reach me. Our access to the world was limited to when the landline phone rang, and someone asked if we were home. When we arrived, we received the message. That was it. Life was simpler, slower, and in many ways healthier.
Then came email, which could be accessed from any computer with internet, but even that wasn’t something we carried in our pockets. We didn’t bring a device to the bathroom to scroll through memes while thinking about life. We didn’t fill small pockets of silence with endless digital stimulation. What we had was presence, the kind of presence that technology slowly dissolved without asking our permission.
Technology no longer sits outside of us; it has merged with our minds, our routines, our emotional cycles, our identity. It became the invisible architecture of how we think, react, plan, fear, desire, and connect. Before, we had to walk, search, wait, knock on doors, or dial numbers. Now, a single tap delivers information, distraction, validation, anxiety, entertainment, and an unshakable sense that life is happening too fast to ever catch up.
And this brings us to the central question: are we truly using our devices, or are we slowly becoming them?
This fusion created something new: we traded spontaneity for algorithmic prediction, introspection for notifications, boredom for overstimulation. The brain lost its empty spaces, those fertile gaps where ideas used to grow. Today, we live inside a stream of micro-dopamine hits crafted by companies that understand human behavior more precisely than many behavioral scientists.
Devices stopped being tools. They became environments. And we became inhabitants. Once a tool becomes an environment, it also becomes a shaper of identity.
As a mother, I look at my son and realize he will never experience what it means to live without constant digital presence. Moving to Ireland gave us a breath of fresh air; now he plays outside, runs with friends, forgets about online games, and chooses real life over screens. It feels like I handed him a fragment of the freedom we once had.
But let’s be honest: I love opening the Find My app and knowing exactly where he is. I love calling him when it gets dark. I love watching the AirTag trace the path of a school trip. This is comforting for any mother whose instincts were shaped in a country where danger is not an exception but a routine. Technology, in these moments, is a quiet blessing.
And when it comes to AI? Well, I’m a proud hard user. I use artificial intelligence to structure projects, organize ideas, calm my multipotential mind, and bring clarity to chaos. These tools give me a feeling of control and humans crave control more than they admit. Maybe it’s psychological. Maybe biological. Maybe spiritual. But it’s undeniable.
Technology and Human Behavior: at what point does this help turn into substitution?
When do we stop thinking and start delegating thought? When do we rely so deeply on prompts that imagination becomes outsourced? When do we forget how to navigate a world without mapping apps? When our memory lives in a cloud and our planning lives in an AI assistant, how much of our human core remains?
Technology gave us comfort and capability, but also dependency. AI gives us external intelligence but risks weakening internal intelligence. We are more efficient yet less present. More connected yet less grounded. More informed yet less wise.
Maybe the question “Are we becoming our devices?” is not philosophical, it is urgent.
Because if we stop paying attention, we exchange autonomy for convenience, introspection for distraction, and identity for algorithmic reinforcement. In the end, technology should expand who we are, not compress us into predictable patterns. AI should be a creative partner, not a substitute for consciousness. Devices should be instruments, not mirrors that flatten our complexity.
The biggest challenge of our era is learning to distinguish what amplifies us from what erases us. And perhaps the answer lies not in turning off technology forever but in remembering, even for a moment, that there is still an “I” inside us that wasn’t programmed.
More soul, more stories, right this way:
- Ethical AI Examples: How Machines Learn Ethics
- Science Fiction Series: Pluribus and the Price of a Perfect World
- Artificial Intelligence and Business: Art in a Tech World
- The Depersonalization of Self: When Being Becomes Performance
FAQ – Technology and Human Behavior
Is technology really changing human behavior?
Yes. Studies show that smartphones and digital platforms reshape attention, memory, emotional regulation, and the way we relate socially and cognitively.
Does AI reduce creativity?
AI can expand creative possibilities, but excessive dependence may weaken autonomous thinking and the ability to generate original ideas without external prompts.
How do we avoid becoming dependent on devices?
By creating intentional offline rituals, setting digital boundaries, practicing boredom tolerance, and cultivating spaces where the mind can function without constant stimulation.
Is AI a threat to individuality?
Not inherently. But without conscious discernment, AI-driven content and algorithmic suggestions can homogenize behavior, preferences, and worldviews.
Can technology improve parenting?
Yes — when used as support rather than replacement. Tools like GPS tracking, communication apps, and educational platforms help parents stay connected and informed, but emotional presence and real-world experiences remain irreplaceable.
