Measured Gestures: The Aesthetics of AI

And why it matters.

The scene is familiar. Almost universal.
A dinner among friends. The bill arrives. One of them pulls out a bank card to cover it all. The gesture is generous, no doubt. At times it’s appreciated, even charming. But sometimes, it quietly creates an imbalance, especially when that person’s financial means exceed those of the others.

Insisting on covering everything might seem noble. But often, without meaning to, it takes away the other person’s role in the exchange.
By contrast, allowing the other to contribute, even in small ways like a coffee or a tip, is a subtle form of elegance. It is the kind that understands the dynamic, respects the balance, and gives each person the space to fully exist within the relationship.

It is not just about efficiency; it is about connection.
Because what makes an interaction meaningful is not who gives the most, but the room each person is given to belong.

That’s the kind of balance that sustains us. The quiet kind we only notice once it has been disturbed.

Understanding that in any relationship, what moves between us - whether money, attention, or time - shapes an invisible geometry. Giving too much can turn the other into a spectator. Receiving too much risks losing yourself in gratitude.

You see where I’m going with this?

It’s the same with AI. It can do everything. It can anticipate, produce, and perform.

Sometimes it does it well. Sometimes without nuance.

We’ve already seen it. An AI that screens résumés and rejects atypical profiles without hesitation. A predictive justice algorithm that becomes harsher in order to "learn." A chatbot that replaces dozens of jobs without even acknowledging the people it displaces. And we’ll see it again.

Efficiency, when it forgets the human, becomes a quiet form of brutality.

Refinement, in its truest form, lies in restraint. In delicacy. In the ability not to overpower the human, but to leave room - even a small one - for a gesture, a voice, a role.

We often speak of ethics in technology: regulation, safety, transparency. But we rarely speak of the aesthetics of ethics. And yet, aesthetics is not decoration. It is a way of being in the world. A way of embodying principles. Of shaping each person’s place with care, with balance, with intention.

AI should not only be reliable. It should be respectful of the relationships it enters, and of the people it affects.

This is not a theoretical concern. It speaks directly to how AI enters our everyday lives. In today’s societies, work is more than a function. It is a foundation of identity, dignity, and social purpose. The real danger is not just being replaced. It is being erased.

This is why the so-called human in the loop approach deserves to be rethought.

Today, the term refers to a specific functions : a human integrated into an automated system, tasked with monitoring, correcting, validating. A presence often reduced to a role of oversight. Almost a formality. A box to tick in the architecture of risk.

But that view is far too narrow.

Humans should not be in the loop out of technical precaution, but out of deep conviction. As a philosophical principle.

Because their role is not just to catch mistakes. It is to bring meaning, nuance, presence. To sustain a kind of attention that the machine, by nature, does not possess.

Take medicine, for example. Perhaps AI will soon make all the diagnoses. But the doctor will still be there for another part of the act: care. Not in the strictly technical sense, but in its deeper meaning. The word “care” suggests less a mechanical repair than a form of attentiveness, a concern for the other, in the spirit of the Latin sollicitudo. To care is to watch over. It is to be present.

Maybe, at times, the role of AI will be to help us reconnect. Not to endless digital currents, but to each other, within our human biotope. Social media once promised that reconnection. But what it delivered was mostly electricity: plugged in, overloaded, constantly on edge. The signal moved, but it did not connect. It circulated, but went nowhere. Its logic was one of transmission, not of relationship.

Some approaches, however, are taking a different path. The start-up Boardy, for example, uses AI to refine the match. Not to maximize engagement, but to better support real human connection. In this case, the machine does not replace anything. It steps aside.

Humans should not be there only to monitor or correct. They are there to embody a decision, a presence, a voice. Sometimes to refine, sometimes to validate. And sometimes, simply to remind us that they remain the central marker of what is real.

Some might say, "AI writes a poem. It's uncanny, almost human."
Uncanny, perhaps. Human, no. If it arranges words so well, it is also because words, like AI, are artificial. And calculated.

Think of it like a dance. The same movement, whether performed by a machine or by a human body, does not move us because of the motion itself. It moves us because we might know the dancer. Because we sense her breath, a tremor in her shoulder, a strand of hair that refuses to stay in place. What touches us does not lie in precision, but in presence.

Albert Einstein put it differently (or maybe William Bruce Cameron… the initial author is unclear, despite ChatGPT and Google): "Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts."

The challenge is not to compete with machines. It is to preserve that human space where the ordinary becomes irreplaceable.

MD