Artificial intelligence has an antonym problem. Its opposites are not technical terms, but human ones: natural, real, genuine, authentic. But perhaps those antonyms are dated now that AI’s most popular uses are no longer about writing code or editing documents, but about therapy, companionship, organizing one’s life and finding purpose.
Recent analyses of generative AI use in 2025, including widely cited industry and management research, paint a striking picture. As predicted, AI has fully entered the workplace and daily life. But it has not entered primarily as a task assistant. Instead, it has entered as a friend and mentor. People are turning to AI to help them cope, reflect and find clarity. That reality should give us pause because it raises a deeper question: What kind of intelligence are people actually seeking?
This is not a new question.
When Shlomo Hamelech was presented with that genie-in-a-bottle-esque opportunity to ask for anything at all, he asked for chochmah. Not wealth, not power, not security, but chochmah. But what does chochmah mean? Though it is often translated as wisdom, Tanach presents his request in distinct ways across Sefer Melachim, Divrei Hayamim and Mishlei. Chochmah refers to discernment, the ability to judge situations and people wisely, and an internal moral compass shaped by yirat Shamayim. In Chassidic thought, chochmah is seen as being made up of two words—“ko’ach mah,” or abstract potential. What the Chassidic masters mean is that chochmah is not about the result; rather, it is a journey—from abstraction through nurture, and ultimately toward insight. What is consistent in all these Biblical examples is that chochmah refers to a process.
AI has the ability to hold complexity, to integrate intellect and emotion, and to make decisions that honor both truth and people. It is still learning, but it is gaining experience at lightning speed, making it powerful, accessible and increasingly intuitive. As a tool, it can help people think through problems, organize priorities and reflect on their own behavior. However, it is precisely because it is so powerful and so quick that it cannot provide the magical experience of processing through deliberation, inspiration and most importantly, through human companionship and its inherent meaning.
Recently, a mentee presented to me the results of an AI prompt—“What should I do with my life?” Since he had interacted with AI extensively, the results reflected a deep and intimate knowledge of this young man and provided excellent advice. When I think back to the mentors I had and the conversations we shared, I cannot always recall what they told me. What I do remember is the warmth I felt in their presence and the confidence I received from them believing in me. Is that something AI can and should replace?
In the Hadran text we recite upon completing a tractate of Talmud, we describe how “we toil and receive reward.” The Chafetz Chaim explains that this is a unique feature of spirituality: that the process is just as meaningful as the result. The efforts of one who tries to build a chair but fails translate into nothing, but one who toils over a page of Talmud and never understands it has acquired a portion of eternity. This value in process is not limited to Torah study; it is true for all spiritual endeavors, and by extension, all human interactions. People are feeling overwhelmed, uncertain of their priorities, and unsure whether their work truly matters.
Good leadership is not only about strategy and execution. It is about presence.
They are turning to AI not because it is powerful but because it is available, patient and nonjudgmental. It listens. It responds. It helps them sort through the noise. In many cases, AI is filling a vacuum. But by turning to AI, they are missing out. They miss out on the experience, on the give and take with a friend, mentor or manager who pauses in an argument and says, “You’re right!” Perhaps they do not have a human being who truly cares about them or who comforts them when they fail—a person they respect who believes in their potential. Those turning to AI for therapy and companionship may get a quicker reply, but without the process, something integral is lost.
The emergence of “finding purpose” as a mainstream AI use case should be sobering. Purpose is not a technical challenge to be solved by better prompts. It is shaped through relationships, responsibility and contribution. In Judaism, meaning comes from knowing that one’s actions matter. Should an algorithm generate meaning?
If people are asking AI to help them find purpose, leaders must ask themselves a difficult question: Do our organizations clearly communicate why the work matters and how each person’s role contributes to the mission? Or have we become so focused on inputs and outputs that we have neglected the soul that drives our employees?
This is where management and menschlichkeit meet. Good leadership is not only about strategy and execution. It is about presence. It is about noticing when a team member is drifting, when morale is thinning or when a role has lost its sense of purpose. AI can offer reassurance, but it cannot offer responsibility. It can simulate empathy, but it cannot truly see another human being. It can answer questions quickly and efficiently, but it cannot be there for the ride.
None of this is an argument against using AI (indeed, I even used AI to help me refine this piece!). Thoughtful leaders should be asking how to integrate it responsibly. AI can help managers prepare, reflect and plan. It can free up time for the work that requires human presence: listening, mentoring, teaching and exercising judgment. The danger lies in confusing assistance with authority. AI should support judgment, not replace it. It can help you think, but it should never be the place where values are decided.
Pirkei Avot teaches, “Aseh lecha rav, u’kneh lecha chaver—Make for yourself a teacher, and acquire for yourself a friend.” Wisdom and support come through relationship. That is not a nostalgic idea; it is a management principle. People grow when they are guided by those who know them, challenge them and care about their development.
For those entrusted with leading Jewish organizations, this moment calls for honest reflection. If people are turning to AI for clarity, comfort and purpose, it is not an indictment of technology; it is an invitation to leadership. Our task is not to outpace machines, but to offer what they cannot: real presence and a clear sense that the work we ask of people matters. When leaders create structures that respect human limits and cultures that nurture meaning, AI can remain what it should be: a helpful tool, not a surrogate for wisdom.
Reprinted with permission from Harvard Business Publishing: Marc Zao-Sanders, “How People Are Really Using Gen AI in 2025,” Harvard Business Review, April 9, 2025, hbr.org. Source: Filtered.com. Copyright 2025 by Harvard Business Publishing; all rights reserved.
Rabbi Dr. Josh Joseph is executive vice president/chief operating officer of the Orthodox Union.