When my now 26-year-old was seven, his greatest nemesis was not a sibling, not a bully, not the weather keeping him indoors. It was a Game Boy. That little grey box with its green screen held his attention hostage for hours - until one fateful day when, through no fault of my own (of course!), it slipped into the loo! His devastation was real, but the family gained something back: eye contact, conversation, and play.

Fast forward to today, and the screen has become the fun-stealer, the spokesperson in the room. Whether it’s a phone, tablet, or laptop, we are all drawn to its glow. The silent pull is universal, stronger than the call of the playground, the dinner table, or even a friend’s voice.

And now, AI has entered the room - far more advanced than that pixelated Game Boy. It is astonishing, capable of miracles in seconds. It can think faster, remember longer, and connect dots we never imagined. But here lies the question: what about us? What about the values that cannot be coded: love, fun, resilience, hope, kindness, philanthropy? 

These are the things that make us human, that bind families, that give communities their heartbeat. Technology can aid them, amplify them even, but it cannot replace them. A child cannot download resilience. A family cannot outsource love. Hope doesn’t come from a feed, and kindness is not an algorithm.

So the question is not whether technology is good or bad. It is the challenge of what we choose to do alongside it. To keep telling stories around the fire. To laugh and have fun without taking a selfie. To be helpless in a pub quiz without Googling the answer. To share without expecting a like.

AI will be astonishing - it already is - but it is no substitute for humanity. Let’s make sure that as we embrace its brilliance, we do not lose sight of the timeless truths that make life worth living.