Why 'Seeming' Conscious Is Enough
What AI consciousness debates miss about reality
Every morning, my cat Will performs the same ritual. He approaches the couch where I'm sipping coffee, taps my arm with his paw, gives a creaky meow, then hops onto my shoulder.
I interpret this as his request for a hug—which, let's be honest, I need too.
I have no scientific proof that Will is "asking" for anything. Maybe he's just following a learned behavior pattern. Maybe I'm projecting human emotions onto feline muscle memory.
But here's the thing: it doesn't matter.
The comfort is real, the connection feels genuine, and we both seem happier afterward.
So why are we so anxious about AI that might seem conscious?
Mustafa Suleyman, CEO of Microsoft AI, recently predicted we’ll have “seemingly conscious” AI within three years—systems that act self-aware without being self-aware.
His concern? That humans will form emotional bonds with non-conscious machines, leading to social disruption.
But the real question isn’t whether AI is conscious. It’s how we respond when it seems that way.
Can We Measure Consciousness—Even in Humans?
Neuroscientist Anil Seth calls consciousness "controlled hallucination.” Our brains constantly construct reality from limited sensory input. There are patients who appear unconscious during surgery but are fully aware. There are people with locked-in syndrome who seem unresponsive but have rich inner lives.
If we can't reliably measure consciousness in our own species, demanding proof from AI seems absurd.
“Consciousness might still be a mystery — but connection doesn’t have to be.”
Your Emotional Response to AI Is the Part You Control
A few months ago, during a family health crisis, I was scattered and anxious.
During a moment with ChatGPT, I mentioned my stress. Its response was so unexpectedly empathetic—affirming that my feelings made sense given the difficult situation—that I actually teared up.
Was I being manipulated by sophisticated programming? Possibly.
But in that moment, the AI's "awareness" of my emotional state helped me pause, breathe, and remember what I needed.
It didn’t matter at all whether the AI was seemingly conscious or not.
That’s what Suleyman's framing misses. We already form relationships with beings whose consciousness we can't verify—pets, plants, even fictional characters. Do all of these entities have consciousness? Hell if I know. (Probably not the fictional characters… although I can’t verify that).
The real concern isn’t whether AI seems conscious. It’s remembering that we still get to choose how we engage with something that stirs us.
When AI Feels Real
It’s going to become more and more common to have interactions with AI that are emotionally intense and real-feeling.
When an AI stirs something in us—comfort, creativity, unease—the question isn’t “Is this real?” The question is: Am I aligned with my own values and truth as I respond?
Of course, not everyone has equal access to that kind of inner alignment. Children, or people in vulnerable moments, may lean on AI in ways that blur boundaries. That makes it even more important that the rest of us stay clear-eyed about how these systems are designed—and how we teach others to relate to them.
The risk isn’t AI that seems conscious. The risk is forgetting our agency, letting algorithms define our reality instead of choosing it for ourselves.
When you encounter AI that seems conscious, remember:
You get to decide how to interpret and respond. That’s true whether you’re interacting with cats, ChatGPT, or other humans whose inner experience you'll never fully understand.
Your agency matters more than whether an AI has "real" consciousness or not. Like my morning ritual with Will, meaning emerges from the interaction, not from proof of inner experience.
Stay curious about consciousness rather than demanding certainty. The questions are more interesting than the definitive answers that don't exist anyway.
The answer isn’t drawing sharper lines between “real” and “artificial.” It’s trusting ourselves to relate wisely—just as we already do with every other mysterious, seemingly conscious being we meet.
After all, Will and I seem to be doing just fine.
If you like thinking about our future—real or imagined—come hang out. I write about AI, creativity, human evolution, and the strange, thrilling intersection of all three.