July 1, 2026
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On a recent trip to San Francisco—as I watched a self‑driving taxi glide through a busy intersection, park itself at the curb, and collect a waiting passenger—I was struck by how quickly the technological center of gravity in our lives is shifting. What drew my attention wasn’t the sensor-laden car itself, but rather the uneventfulness of it all. Even just a few years ago, a driverless AI vehicle would have attracted stares or, at minimum, some smartphone photos. Instead, pedestrians walked right by without a second glance; the scene unfolded with the same casualness as a bus arriving on time. It was a reminder of how quickly innovation revises our present just as much as it announces our future.
We’re living through a moment when machines are getting better at things we once assumed were uniquely human: writing, conversing, pattern matching, and, yes, driving. AI is advancing at a pace that’s reshaping how we work, learn, and communicate. And yet, at the very same time, many of the things humans do best—listening, empathizing, building trust—have been eroding. Polarization and loneliness are on the rise. We can feel the social fabric fraying at the seams.
Humans have always guided the direction of cultural, scientific, and spiritual narratives. Today, we’re at risk of ceding that control and drifting further away from the natural rhythms that ground us. We’re more globally connected than ever before, but somehow more emotionally removed. You don’t need me to tell you how social media has warped the idea of “friends,” and the concept of trust carries a different meaning in a world where we increasingly question the reality of what we see on our screens.
Fortunately, we already have some ideas about solutions. Since 1932, Harvard has run a remarkable longitudinal study on adult development, tracking individuals’ health trajectories over the course of their lives. The results have consistently shown that strong relationships are the key factor in our ability to flourish—more predictive than wealth, fame, or even cholesterol.
Relationships are our true superpower. Our brains are wired for them from birth; we intuitively seek out love and affection from our caregivers. We thrive in adulthood when we can collaborate and connect with others authentically. Chatbots may be able to speak, but only humans can feel in all of the messy, vulnerable, and compassionate ways that life requires.
Nature is part of the equation here, too. We mustn’t lose sight of the fact that we’re all part of one living, breathing planet; ecosystems are one of our oldest and wisest teachers when it comes to interdependence and reciprocity. The harmonious interplay between our health and our environment—particularly when we have access to clean air, clean water, and time outdoors—stands in direct contrast to a fragmented attention economy marked by hours spent alone, tethered to devices.
So, how do we spark a relational renaissance? It seems to me that we’ll need to rediscover some of our oldest skills and refashion them for a new age. I’m fascinated by the emerging concept of relational intelligence (RQ), which measures our ability to bridge differences, build community, and create meaning at both an individual and collective level. As Stanford University’s Isabelle Hau shared during a recent Nova Campfire, RQ requires us to intentionally cultivate personal interactions and weave them into educational curricula, health care services, early childhood development, and other pieces of our societal infrastructure. We can redesign the world for connection.
When AI is viewed primarily as a tool for computing, scheduling, and giving us a lift across town—instead of an easy substitute for true empathy—humans are empowered to love, learn, and care for each other in all the ways that matter.
As we continue exploring these themes at Nova and throughout our broader community, I keep coming back to a simple idea: Technology will shape the future, but humans must guide the meaning of it. Our goal should not be to resist progress, but rather to remain human alongside it and re-attune to using the natural world as our compass.
It starts with small everyday behaviors like how we show up for one another, how we listen, and how we re-connect. Those are traits that can never be automated.
Wishing you a restful and restorative summer,
Professor Brian Berman, MD
President and Founder, Nova Institute for Health
Professor Emeritus, Family and Community Medicine, University of Maryland School of Medicine
