The Mission of Harvard in the Age of Artificial Intelligence

As artificial intelligence grows increasingly adept at performing intellectual tasks once thought to be the exclusive domain of humans, the question arises: What remains quintessentially human, and how should we nurture it?

The answer lies in focusing on the capacities that technology cannot replicate — empathy, moral depth, and the ability to deliberate with emotional intelligence. These capacities are the essence of our humanity, and their cultivation must become central to Harvard’s purpose.

While AI excels in data processing, pattern recognition, and even simulating aspects of human creativity, it cannot feel the pull of empathy, the sting of injustice, or the joy of a shared moment. Machines cannot deliberate with the moral depth or emotional intelligence required to navigate the complexities of human relationships.

One of my students recently captured this sentiment in their final paper: “The world around us is not extraordinary because of what it has to offer us, but because of what we have to offer it.”

These words highlight a profound truth: The richness of human life is not found in what we consume or observe, but in how we engage, create, and connect. In-person deliberation — with its give and take of ideas, its requirement for mutual respect, and its reliance on trust — exemplifies the kind of learning that AI cannot replicate. It immerses participants in the challenges and rewards of human interaction, fostering agency and accountability through shared decision making.

This logic compels a reorientation of Harvard’s mission. The University must focus not only on knowledge transmission but also on cultivating the distinctly human capacities that make knowledge meaningful. Harvard’s classrooms need to be spaces where students and faculty engage fearlessly, where the exchange of ideas flourishes, and where trust is built.

The stakes are high. In a world increasingly mediated by screens and algorithms, the risk is not only that human skills will atrophy but also that the relationships and communities they sustain will fray. This erosion of trust and connection threatens the very fabric of society. Harvard, as a leader in education and innovation, has a responsibility to counteract these trends by fostering a culture that values human connection as much as scientific advancement.

My recent course, JuryX, the Arc of Trust provides a blueprint for this mission. It begins with self-awareness and vulnerability, supported by a classroom architecture that combines small-group discussion and a digital platform where students can communicate pseudonymously.

This private space allows everyone to safely express their initial thoughts, observe the reactions of their peers, and see the full range of perspectives within the class. These early exchanges prepare students for face-to-face deliberation in small groups, where trust deepens through empathy, collaboration, and mutual respect.

This arc is not linear but dynamic, mirroring the rhythm of human relationships. It reflects the constant interplay of ideas being examined, challenged, and refined. Through this process, students gain a deeper understanding of themselves, their peers, and the world. By cultivating trust in this way, the classroom becomes a model for the kind of society we aspire to build — one that values connection, understanding, and shared responsibility.

Harvard must make this approach central to its mission. More of its classrooms, research initiatives, and community engagements should prioritize the cultivation of trust and the uniquely human skills it requires.

By doing so, the University can ensure that its graduates are not only knowledgeable but wise; not only skilled but empathetic; not only capable but deeply human.

In the age of artificial intelligence, our most critical task is not to compete with machines but to define and embrace what it means to be human. By prioritizing the skills and relationships that technology cannot replace, Harvard can help ensure that we bring our very best to the world.

As my student observed, the world’s extraordinariness lies not in what it offers but in what we bring to it.

Charles R. Nesson ’60 is the William F. Weld Professor of Law at Harvard Law School and Founder of the Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society at Harvard University.