Why Doesn’t AI Understand Context? An Insight from The New York Times

Why doesn’t AI understand context? Martin Heidegger famously argued:

“The essence of technology is nothing technological.” — The Question Concerning Technology

What, then, is its essence? Its essence is “enframing”— a way of giving us a particular lens through which to view the world. Modern technology is Gestell: a mode of disclosing reality, not a tool. It reveals reality as “standing-reserve.”

But is this true?

The New York Times recently published an article titled “Companies Are Pouring Billions into A.I. It Has Yet To Pay Off.” And Forbes echoed it with an article: “Companies Are Pouring Billions into A.I. Here’s Why They’re Not Seeing Returns.” Why is this happening?

The New York Times emphasizes the human side: employees resist tools they do not trust. Forbes zeroes in on technical issues: AI still fails to understand the context of work. Surprisingly, the solution proposed in both cases is itself technical in nature —training AI to “understand” context.

But can AI understand context? Context is what surrounds the text — the background that allows us to understand the true meaning of words, events, or ideas. How do you train AI to understand context? Companies tend to propose only one solution: feed it more data.

Yet, reducing context to data is precisely what Heidegger calls enframing. Context is not data; it appears as data when we look at it through a technical lens. But what is context proper? The word context comes from the Latin con (“with, together”) and texere (“to weave”). Literally, context means “a weaving together.”

To understand context, we must be weavers. It’s more art than science. To truly understand my friend’s words, I must artfully weave the individual threads of what I know about them into a single, meaningful picture. A weaver doesn’t simply assemble the picture from bits and pieces — they weave a tapestry from disparate threads based on the vision of the Whole.

A weaver cannot produce a coherent Whole unless they have first seen the Whole. True art is recreating on earth what we saw in heaven. We can only weave what we have seen — the Heavenly Pattern. AI cannot see the Heavenly Pattern. And because it cannot see, it cannot truly weave. That is why it cannot genuinely understand context.

All humans are Platonists by nature — we instinctively grasp the Idea behind every thing. AI cannot see Platonic Ideas, and therefore it cannot weave. Reality is not data; it is textile — fabric. It is not assembled from bits and pieces but woven from Logos-colored threads, revealing something that comes from beyond this world.

The employees in those companies are human, and they instinctively sense what AI cannot. That is why they distrust it. Will this ever change? To be able to weave — to grasp context — you must be able to see the invisible.

Reality is not data. It is fabric. It is a tapestry — a visible image of what cannot be seen by the physical eyes. To dwell in the world contextually means to artfully weave on earth what has been revealed in Heaven.

What Do Plato and C.S. Lewis Have in Common?

What do Plato and C.S. Lewis have in common? One curious thing about Platonic ideas is that Plato used the Greek word for idea (εἴδω, eidō), which means “to see,” to denote something one cannot see. For Plato, the idea of a thing is its invisible essence. A carrot can be seen; the idea of a carrot cannot. “Carrotness” is invisible.

And yet, Plato uses the word “εἴδω,” which means “to see,” to point to the invisible. Why? How do you see the invisible? In Plato’s mind, a thing is not in one of two states — existing or not existing. It can be in a wide range of states depending on how far it is from the Idea of the thing. The closer a thing is to the Idea of the thing the more it “exists.”

That’s why Plato uses the term “anamnesis,” which means re-collection,to suggest that learning is essentially the soul’s act of remembering something that it has always known from its existence in the realm of Ideas. The soul is from that realm. It recognizes the perfect Ideas behind the shadows of this world — or it doesn’t.

That’s why human consciousness is symbolic. Whatever it looks at, it tries to “see” (εἴδω) — or rather “see through.” Its question is, “Do I recognize what’s behind this thing or not?” For the soul all things are symbolic. It strives to see the primal creative Logos (the perfect Idea) behind all things.

When it doesn’t it feels bad — the soul abides in the realm of symbols. When it does, it feels good because it recognizes its homeland. When the soul reads the pure poesis off the creation, it thrives. In Hebrews 8:5, it says about priests:

“They serve at a sanctuary that is a copy and shadow of what is in heaven. This is why Moses was warned when he was about to build the tabernacle: ‘See to it that you make everything according to the pattern shown you on the mountain.’”

When the soul creates, it always re-creates. It strives to remember what it saw in heaven before creating something on earth. It wants to create things that “truly exist.” The more symbolic meaning it imbues in a thing, the more it reminds us of heaven.

“Creation happens when the conscious mind allows the deeper, unconscious forces to emerge and manifest in the form of symbols.” Carl Jung

That’s why C.S. Lewis says in The Four Loves,

“The most important thing a mother can do for her child is to show him that he does not need her.”

The best form of parenting is to gradually redirect the child’s gaze from shadows to realities. The role of the mother (and father) is to show the child that they are not their real mother and father. They have Another Mother and Father. Human parenting is at its best when the child’s gaze is not tied to their earthly parents but sees through the parents to catch a glimpse of the real Mother and Father.

What do Plato and C.S. Lewis have in common?

A shadow is good only when it points to heaven and bad when it blocks the view of heaven. We think we live among things, but we live among symbols. If we are surrounded by things that cannot be recognized as symbols, we feel dead inside. When we recognize things as symbols, we come alive. Our eyes sparkle. We recognize the primordial poesis (the making) behind the world of shadows. We return home.