Fall is definitely in the air — at least from where I sit in Atlanta and in many other parts of the Northern Hemisphere. Leaf color is starting to change in response to the cooler temperatures, and sweaters are coming out of closets. There’s the sense of harvest richness, but also of the passing of time and of death: celebrations such as Halloween, All Saints’ Day, and Día de los Muertos honor the dead, with Korea’s Chuseok (추석) festival honoring both the harvest and family ancestors.
The seasonal change isn’t just environmental for us at Discourse Labs. Like many others in the nonprofit world facing financial challenges, we also are experiencing what is probably the autumn of our short life. In the attempt to bring innovative tools to life for public discourse, we had already been grappling with the rise of generative AI and the misrepresentation of our work – part of a larger effort that has sought to demonize efforts that bring accurate information to the public. And now, in the face of widespread funding shortages, it makes sense that funders need to focus on priorities and perhaps risk less on exploratory and experimental endeavors such as ours.
Whether our organization succeeds or not, there’s a lot that we can look back upon and be grateful that we had the chance to contribute: our harvest, so to speak. Through our work on the ARTT (Analysis and Response Toolkit for Trust) project, we demonstrated research-backed ways that people could have difficult, complicated conversations with one another. And, we got a chance to share these lessons with election officials in North Carolina, California, and beyond – our curriculum aimed to develop a trust-building mindset and approach that will be increasingly needed in a lot of public work. Through our own developments with AI, we were also able to help advance thinking about the ethical use of AI in public health communications with leaders in that field.
Towards the close of this year, I find myself thinking a lot about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. The 1950s and 1960s were no stranger to national division, personal attacks, or pseudoscientific thoughts about race. In his sermon A Tough Mind and a Tender Heart, King shared his conviction that toughness of mind and love for another were both needed in order to make sense of the modern world. On the one hand, people needed to be as wise as serpents in order to withstand the onslaught of “half-truths, prejudices, and false facts” as well as “false propaganda.” On the other hand, people needed tender hearts: the hardhearted person was characterized as one who sees people only as “means” or “objects and cogs” in a machine. Dr. King believed that practicing the tenderness of doves, or love rather than violence, was not only possible but fundamental to human survival.
Looking ahead, we know that online realms will continue to reward distrust and arrogance, rather than love and humility. As fear and confusion continue to grow in online spaces, it’s completely understandable that people will not only be reluctant to discuss difficult topics but also turn to inaccurate and manipulative AI chatbots for comfort.
But King’s “tough tenderness” reminds us of what’s possible, and what we can continue to work towards in the times to come.
Connie Moon Sehat is Director of Research at Discourse Labs.
