René Descartes once sat alone in his study and began doubting everything. He doubted the world outside his window. He doubted his own body. He doubted the voices of teachers and books. For a while he even doubted his own existence. Out of that deep skepticism came the famous line I think therefore I am. It was his way of anchoring reality in the one thing he could not deny.
Fast forward to today and we are living through a strange echo of that moment. With artificial intelligence people can type a few words and watch them turn into text images, videos or even voices that feel real. Entire conversations unfold with characters that never lived. Photographs show events that never happened. Music plays that no human composed. It feels like prompting things into existence.
But this power raises an old question. If I can create an image of a person who never walked this earth how do I know what exists. If I can hold a conversation with a machine that feels thoughtful, how do I know who is thinking. We find ourselves in an era where doubt returns not as a philosophical exercise but as part of everyday life.
This is not a call to despair. Just as Descartes found certainty in thought we may need to find new anchors for truth in an AI world. Maybe that anchor is trust in relationships that cannot be simulated. Maybe it is in communities that stand behind their words. Maybe it is in the slow careful work of verifying what we see.
The age of AI does not erase reality but it does test our ability to tell the real from the artificial. Descartes doubted in order to find solid ground. We may have to do the same. The question is not only what exists but how we learn to live with the constant presence of what only seems to exist.
