Calvin Cassar is the Managing Director of TechTok (www.techtok.mt), a company dedicated to building communities and conversations around emerging technologies.
For much of history humanity has taken comfort in the belief that it holds a privileged place in existence. From ancient cosmologies to modern science, people have clung to the idea that something makes us uniquely important. Yet with every great discovery that conviction has been shaken. One by one, the pillars of human pride have fallen, leaving us to reconsider what it means to be who we are.
At the centre of the universe
For ancient civilizations the heavens revolved around us. The sun, moon, and stars were believed to move in orderly patterns for our benefit. Philosophers such as Aristotle and astronomers such as Ptolemy described a geocentric universe with Earth at its core. The vision was both scientific and symbolic, offering reassurance that we mattered.
This confidence collapsed with the Copernican revolution. Nicolaus Copernicus proposed that Earth circled the sun, and Galileo Galilei's telescope provided evidence. He observed moons orbiting Jupiter and phases of Venus that could only be explained if Venus orbited the sun.
The revelation was profound. To dethrone Earth was to dethrone humanity. Religious and political authorities resisted, but the truth prevailed. The first wound to human pride was cosmic.
At the center of creation
Even after this shift, people believed they were specially created, separate from the rest of life. Humanity stood at the top of the hierarchy, elevated above the animals.
Charles Darwin challenged that assumption in On the Origin of Species in 1859. Natural selection, he argued, was the process that shaped all organisms, including ourselves. Humanity was not a separate creation but a branch on the same tree of life as every other species.
This vision was unsettling. If our intelligence, morality, and creativity were products of evolution, then they were not unique gifts but adaptations like the beak of a bird or the fin of a fish. Darwin removed us from the center of creation, delivering the second wound to human pride.
Intellectual superiority
Still we held on to one final fortress: intellect. We believed that reason set us apart. Other creatures might survive, but they could not think as we did. We built cities, created science, and composed art.
Over time this conviction weakened. Research in animal cognition revealed surprising capabilities. Chimpanzees planned hunts and deceived rivals. Corvids solved puzzles with remarkable ingenuity. Dolphins recognized themselves in mirrors. Elephants displayed grief for their dead.
These discoveries blurred the line between human and animal minds. The difference appeared to be one of degree rather than kind. Humanity retained exceptional abilities, but the absolute divide we imagined no longer held. The third wound to pride was intellectual.
The uniqueness of language
Language seemed to remain our defining feature. Speech allowed us to communicate complex ideas, transmit knowledge, and build cultures. Surely this was what made us unique.
Yet again the picture shifted. Primates trained with sign language or symbol boards communicated at surprising levels of abstraction. Whales transmitted cultural knowledge through song. Birds learned and improvised vocal patterns. Elephants used low-frequency rumbles to coordinate across long distances.
Then came artificial intelligence. Systems trained on immense amounts of text have begun to generate essays, translate languages, and even craft poetry. Although AI does not think as humans do, its ability to manipulate language at scale shook our confidence. If machines could replicate linguistic performance, perhaps language was not the unbridgeable gulf we once believed. The fourth wound to human pride was linguistic.
The mirror of artificial intelligence
Artificial intelligence acts as a mirror, forcing us to re-examine our assumptions. When a system produces an argument or composes a piece of writing, it demonstrates that tasks we believed required uniquely human capacities can be approached in other ways.
This does not mean AI is human. It lacks consciousness, emotions, and subjective experience. But it shows that our most celebrated abilities are not beyond replication. Just as Galileo displaced Earth from the center of the cosmos and Darwin displaced humanity from the center of creation, AI displaces us from exclusive ownership of language and reasoning.
What remains?
After these successive humblings, the natural question is what remains. If we are not central in space, not specially created, not uniquely intelligent, and not the sole users of language, then what is distinct about us? Some point to self-awareness, our ability to reflect on existence itself. Others highlight imagination, our drive to create art and beauty beyond mere survival. Still others emphasize morality, the instinct to care not only for ourselves but also for strangers and future generations.
Yet the deeper lesson may be that the search for uniqueness is misguided. Our lives can hold meaning even without cosmic or biological privilege. Value does not require us to be special.
A humble perspective
The story of humanity's fall from pride is not one of loss but of perspective. By moving from the center to the periphery, we gained a richer view of reality. No longer the axis of creation, we can see ourselves as part of a vast cosmos, kin to all living things, and participants in a continuum of thought and communication.
This perspective encourages humility. Instead of insisting on uniqueness, we can recognize interconnectedness. Instead of demanding centrality, we can embrace responsibility. To understand that we are not above the world but within it may be the most valuable lesson of all.
The fall of pride can be liberating. By letting go of the need to be exceptional, we can focus on what truly matters: the quality of our lives, the relationships we form, and the care we extend to the world around us. What remains is not a diminished humanity but a humbler one, better equipped to live responsibly in the universe that has always been larger than our pride allowed us to imagine.