12/11/2025
The Machine and Human: Relational Reflections on the Erosion and Restoration of Self
There is a quiet hum beneath modern life — the sound of servers, data flows, and evidence protocols — an invisible rhythm to which society now keeps time. It is a hum that promises certainty: that the science is clear, the data know best, the machine will decide. But beneath the clinical glow of evidence and efficiency, something subtler is fading. The inner voice — once the compass of human agency — grows faint.
The Cult of Evidence
Evidence-Based Practice (EBP) was born in medicine as a beacon of reason, a bulwark against superstition. Yet, as Greenhalgh, Howick and Maskrey (2014) warned in The BMJ, its promise has soured into rigidity. Protocols have multiplied, guidelines ossified, and clinical judgment — once an art — has become bureaucratic compliance. The “movement in crisis,” they called it: a system that mistakes statistical significance for moral authority.
When every decision must be justified by a citation, the clinician’s intuition and the patient’s story lose standing. Allen (2014) argues that evidence hierarchies have become idols of certainty, silencing the messy truth of lived experience. What began as a method to empower professionals to think critically has, paradoxically, externalised their authority. The scientist, the regulator, the algorithmic evidence engine — these become the new oracles.
Rotter (1966) defined locus of control as the degree to which individuals believe outcomes depend on their own actions rather than external forces. In the shadow of the evidence cult, that locus has drifted outward. The clinician obeys the guideline; the client defers to the treatment protocol. The Self — in the Internal Family Systems (IFS) sense of inner leadership — is quietly replaced by adherence.
The Algorithmic Priesthood
If evidence-based practice is the creed, technology is its high church. Alon-Barkat and Busuioc (2023) describe the phenomenon of automation bias: human decision-makers deferring to algorithms even when the data contradict common sense. Public servants, doctors, and judges begin to trust the machine more than themselves. The hum grows louder.
Automation bias is not just a cognitive glitch — it is a spiritual displacement. When code becomes the arbiter of truth, human agency is dislodged from its own centre. Studies show that individuals prefer algorithmic decision-makers over human ones in redistribution tasks (Ruled by Robots, 2024). The algorithm, unburdened by empathy or fatigue, feels safer, cleaner. Yet this safety is sterile.
The German philosopher Byung-Chul Han (2017) called this psychopolitics: a society where control no longer needs force, because individuals willingly surrender their freedom to systems that promise optimisation. The result is a subtler tyranny — one not of ideology, but of efficiency.
The Mirror Stage of Culture
While machines decide, humans perform. Social media, the grand theatre of external validation, trains its users to seek reflection rather than substance. Meta-analyses reveal a consistent link between social networking and narcissism (Gnambs and Appel, 2017). Grandiose traits correlate with frequency of selfies, number of followers, and time spent online (McCain and Campbell, 2018).
In the flicker of the screen, the self becomes a commodity. The number of hearts and thumbs becomes the metric of worth. This is a new mirror stage — not the infant’s first recognition of self, but culture’s collective loss of it. Turkle (2011) writes of people “alone together,” tethered to devices that simulate connection while eroding intimacy.
Empathy, too, shows statistical decline. Konrath, O’Brien and Hsing (2011) found that American college students’ empathy scores dropped 40 percent between 1979 and 2009, with the steepest fall after 2000 — the dawn of the digital age. As empathy wanes, performative selfhood expands. The more we curate ourselves for others, the less we inhabit ourselves for real.
Sociologists like Zygmunt Bauman (2000) call this liquid modernity: a culture where identities are constantly updated but never rooted. Hartmut Rosa (2019) describes it as social acceleration, where relationships, careers, and even emotions must match the speed of data. The faster we move, the less we feel.
The Exile of Intuition and the Erosion of Artistry
If modern technocratic culture exiles intuition, it is because intuition resists capture. It cannot be codified into evidence hierarchies or digitised into datasets; it speaks in symbol, metaphor, and embodied knowing. In this sense, intuition is subversive — the last frontier of internal locus in a world colonised by external validation.
The arts, long humanity’s laboratory of inner truth, suffer a similar exile. Artistic substance — the capacity to perceive beauty, ambiguity, and contradiction — withers in a climate obsessed with measurable outcomes. The decline of aesthetic education mirrors the decline of empathy (Konrath et al., 2011). Both are casualties of a culture that rewards replication over reflection.
This exile is not accidental; it is systemic. The logic of control — once military, then bureaucratic — now permeates the psyche. To feel deeply is inefficient; to question data is heresy. The Self becomes the machine’s missing variable, and the human imagination its collateral damage.
The Mechanisation of Morality
Underneath these trends is a quiet moral deformation. When metrics replace meaning, the moral imagination atrophies. Science becomes not a method but an orthodoxy; technology not a tool but an ontology. The human being is subtly re-engineered as a data point — efficient, measurable, and replaceable.
This mechanisation is not a return to fascism but a new species of authoritarianism — one of systems rather than slogans. It requires no violence, only compliance. Han (2017) observes that in the neoliberal era, individuals exploit themselves under the illusion of freedom: “The subject of achievement is faster and more productive than the subject of obedience.” The result is a populace that self-surveils, self-optimises, self-brands — all in service of invisible algorithms.
Narcissism here is not merely vanity; it is survival. To be visible is to exist. The social ego becomes a digital construct constantly recalibrated by feedback loops. Yet, as Twenge et al. (2008) showed, rising narcissism correlates with fragility, entitlement, and declining interpersonal trust. The culture that worships the self paradoxically erodes it.
Schismogenesis: People of the Head and People of the Heart
Gregory Bateson (1935) used the term schismogenesis to describe self-reinforcing divisions between social groups — a spiral of differentiation where each side defines itself in opposition to the other. In contemporary culture, this manifests as a polarisation between People of the Head and People of the Heart.
The People of the Head are rational, data-driven, and technocratic. They value measurement, logic, and control. Efficiency is their ethic; clarity, their aesthetic. Their world is precise but often cold.
The People of the Heart, by contrast, are intuitive, relational, and humanistic. They trust empathy, story, and presence. Meaning is discovered in resonance, not replication. Their world is messy, uncertain, but alive.
Once in dynamic tension, these currents now amplify each other in schismogenesis. The Head sees the Heart as naïve; the Heart sees the Head as soulless. Polarisation is reinforced at individual and collective levels, echoing the internal fragmentation each therapy seeks to resolve. Rosa (2019) notes that social acceleration exacerbates this divide: “The faster the world spins, the less we can hear each other.” Each side hardens in response to the other, mirroring the splitting of internal parts.
Yet integration remains possible. The head without the heart becomes tyrannical; the heart without the head becomes lost. Systemic dialogue and relational presence offer pathways for bridging this divide, both in individuals and in culture.
The Return of the Self
Against this mechanised and polarised tide, Internal Family Systems (IFS) offers a counter-current — not as nostalgia but as rebalancing. As Schwartz (2021) writes, IFS assumes inherent wisdom within rather than instruction without. It restores what technocracy denies — the possibility that truth arises from presence, not protocol.
In IFS, the Self is embodied awareness marked by curiosity, compassion, calm, and clarity. It does not dominate parts but listens to them. This act of inner listening contrasts sharply with a world that demands performance and compliance. IFS makes explicit what person-centred therapy (Rogers) always implied — that healing emerges not from external expertise but from relational authenticity.
Systemic practice aligns with this ethos. It is not reducible to evidence-based orthodoxy but guided by process ethics — valuing responsiveness, dialogue, and context over prescription. As Varela (1992) proposed in ethical know-how, true ethics arises not from rules but from embodied awareness within relationships. Listening to the human, in this sense, is more important than enforcing what humans have created to control humans.
Where EBP codifies knowledge, systemic ethics re-humanises it. Where the algorithm optimises, the therapist attunes. Each act of presence, each moment of curiosity, becomes a small rebellion against the grand narrative of control and polarisation.
Epilogue: The Fading Hum
The hum persists, steady as breath — servers spinning, algorithms learning, guidelines updating. But somewhere beneath it, another sound waits to be heard: the pulse of the inner voice, quiet but insistent. It is the voice that says: I am not my metrics. I am not my protocol. I am not the reflection in the glass.
Whether we listen may decide not only the future of psychotherapy but of personhood itself. For the machines do not demand our souls; we volunteer them — each time we trade inner knowing for external proof, each time we measure our worth by data.
The question is not whether the machine will think like us, but whether we will remember how to feel like ourselves.
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References
Alon-Barkat, S. & Busuioc, M. (2023) ‘Human–AI Interactions in Public Sector Decision Making: “Automation Bias” and “Selective Adherence” to Algorithmic Advice’, Journal of Public Administration Research and Theory, 33(1), pp. 153–169.
Allen, P. (2014) ‘Is evidence-based public health in crisis?’, European Journal of Public Health, 24(6), pp. 874–876.
Bauman, Z. (2000) Liquid Modernity. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Bateson, G. (1935) Culture and Schismogenesis. [Manuscript].
Greenhalgh, T., Howick, J. & Maskrey, N. (2014) ‘Evidence based medicine: a movement in crisis?’, BMJ, 348, g3725.
Gnambs, T. & Appel, M. (2017) ‘Narcissism and Social Networking Behavior: A Meta-Analysis’, Psychology of Popular Media Culture, 6(4), pp. 386–399.
Han, B.-C. (2017) Psychopolitics: Neoliberalism and New Power. London: Verso.
Konrath, S., O’Brien, E. & Hsing, C. (2011) ‘Changes in Dispositional Empathy in American College Students Over Time: A Meta-Analysis’, Personality and Social Psychology Review, 15(2), pp. 180–198.
McCain, J. L. & Campbell, W. K. (2018) ‘Narcissism and Social Media Use: A Meta-Analytic Review’, Psychology of Popular Media Culture, 7(3), pp. 308–327.
Rotter, J. B. (1966) ‘Generalized Expectancies for Internal versus External Control of Reinforcement’, Psychological Monographs, 80(1), pp. 1–28.
Rosa, H. (2019) Resonance: A Sociology of Our Relationship to the World. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Schwartz, R. C. (2021) No Bad Parts: Healing Trauma and Restoring Wholeness with the Internal Family Systems Model. Boulder, CO: Sounds True.
Turkle, S. (2011) Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other. New York: Basic Books.
Twenge, J. M., Konrath, S., Foster, J. D., Campbell, W. K. & Bushman, B. J. (2008) ‘Egos Inflating Over Time: A Cross-Temporal Meta-Analysis of the Narcissistic Personality Inventory’, Journal of Personality, 76(4), pp. 875–902.
Varela, F. J. (1992) Ethical Know-How: Action, Wisdom, and Cognition. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.