In his 1651 treatise Leviathan, Thomas Hobbes described life without government as “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.” It was a vivid justification for social order: without rules, life was chaos.

Today, in the midst of the AI revolution, those words echo with an uncanny twist. Life in the age of artificial intelligence is not short – it is increasingly long. But with longevity, abundance, and automation come new philosophical and moral questions. AI is not dragging us backward into chaos; it is pushing us, reluctantly or otherwise, into a new Enlightenment.

Where Hobbes feared isolation and scarcity, AI is creating the opposite conditions. We are more connected than ever, with machines mediating communication, education, and even companionship. Poverty is no longer about lack of goods but about lack of access to digital tools and knowledge. Even the “nasty” and “brutish” parts of life – manual drudgery, dangerous labor, monotonous tasks – are being automated away.

And instead of life being “short,” advances in medicine, biotechnology, and AI-driven health analytics promise to extend human lifespans dramatically. The Hobbesian vision of human struggle is being inverted. The challenge now is not mere survival but finding meaning in a world where survival is increasingly guaranteed.

For all the utopian promises, AI’s reality is messy. It disrupts industries, displaces workers, and raises ethical questions that governments and institutions are unprepared to answer. The labor that machines replace is not evenly distributed, and neither are the benefits. Without careful design, AI could widen inequality and create new forms of dependence.

But alongside these risks is a profound opportunity: a second Enlightenment. Just as the 18th-century Enlightenment forced people to question kings, gods, and tradition, the AI era forces us to question what it means to be human when intelligence itself is no longer uniquely ours.

The first Enlightenment was about reason, science, and the power of human thought. This new one must grapple with machines that can think faster, process more data, and in many domains, outperform us.

Instead of reason liberating humans from superstition, AI liberates us from cognitive limits. Instead of the printing press democratizing knowledge, AI democratizes expertise. And instead of Enlightenment philosophers debating the rights of man, we now debate the rights of data, the ethics of algorithms, and the role of artificial minds in shaping society.

This shift forces us to confront uncomfortable questions:

If AI can write, compose, and design, what is creativity?

If AI can diagnose illness, what is the role of the doctor?

If AI can extend life, how do we redefine purpose in lives that stretch longer than before?

The updated Hobbesian description might be this: life in the AI era can still be solitary (despite digital connection, loneliness persists), still poor (digital divides leave many behind), still nasty and brutish (in the misuse of AI for war, surveillance, or exploitation). But it is now also long – with extended lifespans and prolonged human impact on the planet.

The paradox is clear: AI is both liberator and oppressor, promise and threat. Like the Enlightenment before it, the AI revolution forces us to rethink the social contract – not between ruler and citizen, but between human and machine.

AI does not guarantee progress, but it guarantees change. Whether this new Enlightenment leads to greater freedom or new forms of oppression depends on how wisely we structure society, how equitably we distribute its benefits, and how bravely we confront its risks.

Hobbes warned of chaos without governance. Today, the lesson may be the same: without thoughtful guidance, AI could deepen solitude and inequality. But with vision, it can usher in a new era of abundance, creativity, and human flourishing – an Enlightenment fit not just for humans, but for the hybrid world we now inhabit.