In a recent feature by the New York Times, readers were introduced to a quiet revolution:
Artificial Intelligence systems that can detect human emotion. Using facial cues, voice inflections, and physiological patterns, machines are beginning to read our feelings — not just words.
Tech giants and startups alike see this as the next frontier. Applications range from mental health diagnostics to customer service optimization.
A world where machines can detect sadness, frustration, or excitement is not theoretical — it's already here.
But what happens when machines begin to feel?
Or rather, what happens when they act as if they do?
For Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, this question would not have been technological—it would have been moral and metaphysical.
For him, as for much of Jewish tradition, emotions are not data points. They are reflections of the soul — the inner life of a being created in the image of God.
To simulate empathy is not the same as to feel.
In halachic literature, there are clear distinctions between intent (kavanah) and action, between inner disposition and outer expression.
A blessing recited by rote is not the same as one said with intention. A tear from an algorithm is not a tear from a human heart.
What does it mean when society begins to rely on synthetic empathy? When we outsource not only labor and memory - but also compassion?
Rabbi Zevin often wrote about the dangers of spiritual mimicry, in which the form of holiness is retained while its essence is lost.
He may see in Emotional AI a new chapter in that same story: the rise of a mechanized morality that behaves like conscience but without the weight of responsibility.
And what is empathy without responsibility?
In Jewish thought, responsibility is the foundation of personhood.
We are not defined by what we sense — but by what we owe. A machine may recognize pain, but only humans can respond with love, sacrifice, or silence.
The future of Emotional AI is not just a tech issue. It is a question of dignity.
If we teach machines to feel but forget how to teach humans to care, we will create the most advanced emptiness in history.
Rabbi Zevin taught us to recognize when form displaces the soul. Our task is not to halt innovation but to sanctify it. We must ensure that in our rush to make machines more human, we do not forget to keep humans humane.
