When discussing the rapid advance of technologies such as AI, two opposing reactions emerge: a strong fear of the consequences (“The accounting profession will disappear”) and unbridled enthusiasm (“Everyone can be a Michelangelo now!”). Both reactions assume that professional skills will become less important in the face of machines. However, this is far from certain. An interesting decision made by the US Navy sheds light on this issue.
In 2016, the US Navy reinstated training in celestial navigation for its officers. Celestial navigation is a navigation technique that involves determining one’s position by observing the stars and measuring their altitude. In Europe, it was developed during the Renaissance by Portuguese navigators. Paper charts, compasses, pencils. In the 21st century!
This decision may seem surprising at first, but it was made for very pragmatic reasons: First, it aimed to mitigate the vulnerabilities of GPS. The Navy was aware of the growing risks associated with overreliance on GPS technology. Potential threats, such as satellite attacks, signal jamming, or hacking, could compromise GPS functionality and leave naval operations vulnerable. Second, the goal was to establish a reliable backup system. Celestial navigation offers a robust alternative that does not depend on electronic systems. By training officers in this traditional method, the Navy ensured that navigation capabilities would remain intact even if modern systems failed. Third, it was about skills. The reintroduction of celestial navigation emphasized the importance of fundamental navigation skills. This approach guaranteed that officers would have a thorough grasp of navigation principles, thereby reducing the likelihood of errors resulting from an exclusive reliance on automated systems.
The U.S. Navy incorporated celestial navigation into its training programs to strengthen its operational resilience, prepare for potential technological disruptions, and improve the overall competence of its officers.
Two lessons
This decision offers two valuable lessons, especially in the context of rapid technological advancement, particularly in the field of AI.
The first lesson is that although technology makes us more efficient, it can also make us vulnerable. For example, today’s GPS technology allows recreational boaters to go out to sea without any navigational skills. However, if their navigation system fails, they are lost. A historical lesson is that a robust system requires redundancy. Even in the age of ubiquitous GPS, knowing how to read a map or navigate by the stars can be useful. This isn’t about rejecting technology altogether in the name of robustness. Rather, it’s about recognizing that, although technology has considerable advantages, it also poses risks that must be assessed and managed. This is nothing new: My car might break down, but that doesn’t mean I have to ride a horse.
The second lesson is that, despite new technologies, mastery of a discipline’s fundamentals remains fundamental. For example, cartography is still necessary for sailors, hand drawing is still necessary for artists, and reading and writing documents is still necessary for lawyers, even if the rapid development of incredibly powerful technologies might suggest otherwise. For example, experience has shown that graphic designers who are trained in the fundamentals of their profession—such as hand drawing, volume design, and working with materials—are better users of graphics software. The same is true for AI. An expert in the field creates better prompts and can evaluate responses to improve them. They can also use the tool more intelligently by knowing where it is and isn’t relevant. Again, this is nothing new. I have been using graphics software since 1984, but I am not a graphic designer. What I produce is sufficient for my very simple needs, but it doesn’t go much beyond that, as the illustration in this article shows. The tool simplifies processes for novices by enabling them to perform tasks that were previously impossible (e.g., GPS navigation without cartographic knowledge), but users with more expertise in the field will be better able to leverage it.
Neither retrograde nor naive
In this area, there are two pitfalls that should be avoided. The first is rejecting technology in the name of resilience and robustness. The notion that we can revert to a time before technology is a pipe dream. Humans have used tools for at least 2.6 million years, and there is no turning back. We can replace our car with a horse, but a horse can fall ill or die, leaving us stranded. We forget that the horse is also a technology in that we outsource an activity to it to be more efficient. True resilience would mean no longer using technology, which would leave us as vulnerable as our ancestors in a cave. But we know how resilient our ancestors were in that state. Hence the impasse. The second pitfall is the naive use of technology that ignores the risks it creates. For example, consider the boaters who set out to sea without any basic knowledge of navigation or understanding of the realities of the work.
In the face of the current technological revolution, we should remember the U.S. Navy’s lesson: tools are becoming incredibly powerful, but fundamental skills remain essential. The future does not belong to technophobes who reject progress or to enthusiasts who neglect the fundamentals of their profession. Rather, it belongs to those who cultivate this dual expertise. The most powerful technology will never replace a skilled professional; it will amplify their talent and expertise. True progress lies in this alliance between mastery of the fundamentals and informed use of technology.
🇫🇷 A version in French of this article is available here.
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