There’s a word I’ve always found fascinating: singularity. Its definitions offer two seemingly different meaningsand yet, I see them as deeply interconnected.
- angela9240
- Oct 15
- 3 min read
Updated: 4 days ago

On one hand, singularity means being utterly unique, a one-of-a-kind expression that can’t be replicated. On the other, it refers to the hypothetical moment when artificial intelligence surpasses human intelligence, creating a tipping point that irreversibly transforms civilization.
I believe we are nearing that second definition.
And I also believe that, in doing so, we will be called—perhaps for the first time in history—to fully embody the first.
The Age of AI Is a Call to Be Fully Human
The age of AI is not about becoming robotic.
It’s about becoming human—for real this time.
When I advocate for polymathy, it’s because I see it as a path to that first singularity. A life of continuous, courageous, and wide-ranging learning makes each person into a constellation of skills, insights, and experiences so distinct that they become their own singularity.
Not a cog.
Not a clone.
Not a number in a system.
A human being—free, unique, and unrepeatable.
And that is exactly what the world is going to need.
A World Falling Apart
Because the world as we’ve known it? It’s falling apart.
America is drowning in debt. Our biggest federal expense isn’t education, healthcare, or innovation—it’s war. It’s weapons. It’s death. We spend more on defense than anything else.
And now, we spend almost as much—if not more—on interest payments for our national debt as we do on that death machine.
Just think about that: our two biggest federal expenses are war and the cost of borrowing money to sustain a broken system.
Meanwhile, we spend more on prisons and jails than we do on schools. That’s where our tax dollars go: punishment, suffering, surveillance, trauma.
In fiscal year 2024, the U.S. government spent approximately $882 billion on interest payments for the national debt—surpassing the $874 billion allocated for national defense.
AI Isn’t What’s Scary. The Status Quo Is.
So when people say AI is scary, I think: Have you looked around lately?
What we’ve created—this system of control, fear, conformity, and exploitation—is what’s scary.
It’s not working. It’s never really worked. So why are we defending it?
What if AI doesn’t destroy us—but saves us?
What if it liberates us from wage slavery, from the systems that have forced us to trade our lives for survival? What if it replaces the rote, the mechanical, the soul-deadening—and leaves us with something we’ve barely dared to imagine: the freedom to explore, to love, to grow, to be?
Why Polymaths Will Be Ready
Yes, AI will eliminate jobs. Of course it will. That was always coming.
And I don’t understand why so few people saw it.
For decades, it’s been clear that adaptability, not stability, was the true safety net.
Versatility was the insurance policy.
Those who cultivated curiosity, resilience, range—those who became polymathic—prepared themselves for a future no one could fully predict.
Polymaths are ready.
Not because they specialize in everything, but because they’re willing to keep learning anything.
The Real Danger Isn’t Machines. It’s Us.
I don’t fear the singularity. I welcome it.
Because I believe AI will force us to stop trying to fit in and start showing up.
Not as imitations, but as individuals.
Not as machines, but as miracles.
The truth is, what scares me more than AI is humans—especially the ones in power.
The ones who’ve spent centuries designing systems that fail us, that control us, that profit from our pain. Governments that prioritize punishment over potential. Economies built on exploitation.
Education systems that teach obedience instead of originality.
We’ve been failing ourselves for too long.
Maybe This Is the Beginning
So maybe the singularity isn’t the end of us.
Maybe it’s the beginning.
Maybe the greatest hope for humanity is not that we compete with machines,
but that we become more fully human than we’ve ever dared to be.
Brave. Curious. Loving. Irreducibly complex.
A singularity in our own right.
And maybe that’s what we were always meant to become.






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