Address by Dean Tang Shiqi

Good morning, teachers and students!

A warm welcome to all of you as you embark on your journey at the School of International Studies, Peking University. Thank you for choosing and trusting SIS. I hope that your studies and life here will go smoothly, that you will achieve academic success, and that this period will become one of the brightest memories of your lives.

Today, I would like to share with you a topic somewhat different from what I have discussed in previous ceremonies. As you all know, we are rapidly entering what is called the Age of AI. In fact, AI has already permeated every aspect of our study and daily life. In today’s world, those who neither understand nor utilize AI will surely be left behind. Yet, have you ever considered: how should we understand the relationship between AI and human beings in this era? How should we fundamentally understand human life and human value? Compared with mastering AI, this question deserves even greater attention—especially from those at the forefront of thought. Therefore, on this occasion, as you begin a new stage of your academic journey, I wish to share some of my reflections, in the hope of inspiring deeper thinking in you.

I would like to begin with the question of what it means to be human, and then discuss the relationship between humans and AI. On the question of “what is a human,” Western and Chinese thinkers have offered different answers. Western philosophy tends to probe the essence of humanity, while Chinese thinkers rarely provide a definite response. In ancient China, two approaches were common. One was to define humanity by what it is not—for example, Mencius said those without compassion are “not human.” The other emphasized that one learns to become human, with Confucius as its representative. Despite their differences, both Confucius and Mencius agreed that people are not born fully human, but become so through learning—that is why the concept of becoming human exists. In this sense, they denied the existence of a fixed and unchanging human essence. Compared to the Western mainstream approach, I lean more toward the Chinese perspective.

Why? We can illustrate with Aristotle. He believed the soul has three parts: the vegetative soul, the animal soul, and the rational soul. The vegetative soul enables survival and nourishment; the animal soul governs movement and desire; the rational soul alone enables virtue and happiness, and thus is uniquely human. But unlike the vegetative and animal souls, which are hereditary, the rational soul cannot be inherited—it must be acquired through learning. The extent one develops depends on effort and external conditions. Hence Aristotle described the rational soul—human virtues and moral character—as “not from nature, but not against nature,” and Hegel later called it humanity’s “second nature.”

In this, Aristotle aligns with Chinese thinkers: humans are not born human, but become human. Learning is the indispensable link in this transformation. As Confucius said, “In a village of ten households, there may be men as loyal and trustworthy as I, but none who love learning as I do.” Historian Qian Mu explained: loyalty and trustworthiness reflect one’s natural endowment, but learning is the path to self-cultivation. Anyone can become a sage like Yao or Shun—but only by starting with learning, gradually transforming oneself.

The Great Learning offers a roadmap through its “Three Guidelines” and “Eight Steps”: investigation of things, extension of knowledge, sincerity of intention, rectification of the mind, cultivation of the self, regulation of the family, governance of the state, and bringing peace to the world. This process shows how one “learns to become human.” But knowledge alone does not make one fully human; practice is essential. That is why I interpret gewu (investigation of things) as “doing each task with utmost care.” Only by doing carefully can one gain knowledge, refine one’s attitudes, and transform one’s character.

Confucius stressed that action outweighs knowledge and words: “If a person knows but cannot act with benevolence, he will surely lose what he has gained.” He advocated: “The gentleman is sparing in words but diligent in deeds.” Xunzi also said: “Not hearing is inferior to hearing, hearing is inferior to seeing, seeing is inferior to knowing, and knowing is inferior to practicing. Learning ends with practice.” Later, Wang Yangming synthesized this into his doctrine of the unity of knowledge and action: true knowledge manifests in action, and true action embodies understanding.

At this point, it is clear: AI may provide knowledge and answers, but it cannot replace the process of becoming human—developing individuality, principles, and moral integrity. That requires continual learning and practice. If we let AI provide all the answers for us, our character risks becoming an empty shell. We would never attain Aristotle’s rational soul or Hegel’s second nature—the true spirit of humanity.

I have often said that “a human is a possibility.” What does this mean? Both individuals and communities constantly face choices: to compete or cooperate, to advance or retreat, to claim or relinquish honor, to indulge or restrain desire, to defend or attack in the face of threats. Some choices may be resolved by utility, but others cannot. It is in these non-utilitarian choices that human morality and spiritual value are revealed. The decisions of Confucius, Jesus, and Socrates were not about maximizing personal interest—they embodied moral choices that transcended utility.

Why can humans make such moral choices? Western thought has struggled with this. Socrates equated knowledge with virtue, Aristotle sought balance through rational ethics, Kant attempted to legislate morality through reason. Yet many still insist only religion guarantees morality. Chinese thinkers offered another view: goodness exists in all things, but must be realized through human choice and effort. Without humans, there is no good or evil; with humans and their actions, distinctions arise. Wang Yangming’s “Four Sentences” summarize: the mind itself is beyond good or evil, intention produces good and evil, conscience discerns them, and practice promotes good while eliminating evil. Thus, humans are possibilities because of our potential to make moral choices—choices that require autonomy and cannot be outsourced.

If moral growth depends on such choices, can AI make them for us? This is the wrong question. The real question is: do we want AI to choose for us? Even if AI’s choices align with morality, they would not be our moral choices. Delegating such decisions would be like entrusting our fate to fortune-tellers. As Xunzi said: “Those who truly understand the Book of Changes do not rely on divination.”

Therefore, while AI can provide knowledge and answers, it cannot replace our own learning and practice, nor our moral decision-making. To surrender these is to surrender the chance of becoming human. Being human lies in discovering knowledge, cultivating taste, experiencing love and emotion, and enduring the tension of moral struggle. To lose these is to lose life’s meaning. In that case, AI would not need to rebel against us, as in science fiction—we would already be its slaves.

AI brings tremendous convenience and will soon reshape learning, research, production, and life. Some tasks, AI will perform far better than us—let it do so. We should use AI to reduce the cost and increase the efficiency of learning. But there are areas we cannot abandon, lest we lose even the ability to use AI meaningfully. And there are aspects—especially in values and human possibility—that AI can never replace. Freud divided the psyche into the id, ego, and superego. AI can at best simulate a small part of the ego. The deeper aspects of humanity remain beyond it. Thus, in the AI era, perhaps we finally gain the time and space to reflect on ourselves, to explore human potential, and to pursue breakthroughs in understanding human life and values—including the study of international relations. Humanity may, in this way, find true liberation.

I hope you will prepare yourselves well: use AI fully, but also pursue the infinite possibilities of humanity. In this process, may you become your true selves and realize your true value.

Once again, I wish you every success in your studies here at Peking University and the School of International Studies. Thank you!