Why AI Needs More Ethics, Not Less: My Thoughts 

A few weeks ago, I was at the Customer Contact Week conference in Las Vegas—a buzzing hub of innovation, strategy, and, as it turns out, controversy. As I wandered the expo floor, a bold banner caught my eye. It read, in unmistakable letters: “AI doesn’t need human ethics.” At first, I thought I’d misread it. But no—it was right there, printed in a sleek, futuristic font, as if to lend credibility to its unsettling message. I stood there, blinking, half-expecting and hoping it to be satire. But it got me thinking…

As someone who works at the intersection of technology and human-centered innovation, I can say with absolute certainty: AI desperately needs ethics. Not just any ethics, but ethics that are intentional, accountable, and deeply human. That banner couldn’t have been more wrong, I am still hoping it was there to spark conversation and not to be takes at face value. The reality is, AI needs more ethical oversight than any technology in history. Why? Because, unlike us, AI lacks a conscience. It has no empathy, no lived experience, no cultural memory, and no sense of right or wrong. It doesn’t “feel bad” when it makes a harmful decision. And that is precisely where the danger lies. 

The Human Difference: Morals vs. Ethics 

Let’s clarify a crucial distinction: ethics are frameworks we design to define right and wrong; morals are the internal compasses that guide our behavior. AI lacks both. More importantly, it cannot develop morals on its own. I might refrain from lying because I value honesty or treat others with compassion because I know what pain feels like. AI has no such reference points. 

Humans, even when we act unethically, often feel guilt or shame—emotions that can prevent us from repeating harmful behavior. These emotions are the product of lived experience, cultural upbringing, and a sense of interconnectedness with others. AI, on the other hand, can perpetuate harm endlessly, without hesitation or remorse—unless we explicitly teach it otherwise. That’s why saying “AI doesn’t need human ethics” is like saying a car doesn’t need brakes because it doesn’t have legs. 

AI: More Than Just a Tool 

A common defense is, “AI is just a tool—it does what we tell it to.” That sounds reasonable until you consider how quickly tools can outpace our ability to control them. A hammer is a tool, but in the wrong hands, it becomes a weapon. Now imagine a tool that can replicate itself, learn patterns, imitate humans, and make autonomous decisions. That’s AI. 

Let’s be honest: AI already makes critical decisions. It decides what news we see, who gets flagged for fraud, who receives a loan, who qualifies for medical trials, who gets hired, and sometimes, even who gets sentenced. The idea that AI is just a passive servant is not just comforting—it’s dangerously false. AI doesn’t just reflect our world, it shapes it. 

Real-World Examples 

  • Healthcare: AI-driven diagnostic tools can help identify diseases faster than human doctors. But what happens if the data it’s trained on underrepresents certain populations? There have already been cases where AI missed skin cancer in people with darker skin tones, simply because the training data was biased. 
  • Finance: Algorithms decide who gets a loan and at what interest rate. If the data reflects historical discrimination, the AI can perpetuate those patterns, denying opportunities to those who need them most. 
  • Employment: Automated resume screening tools have been found to filter out women or people from certain ethnic backgrounds because the AI “learned” from past hiring patterns that favored certain groups. 

The illusion that AI is a neutral tool is comforting, but it’s a myth. AI is a tool that amplifies whatever values—good or bad—are embedded within it. 

The Myth of Neutral Algorithms 

Another dangerous myth: algorithms are neutral. In reality, every algorithm is built by humans, trained on human data, and tested in human environments. That means every algorithm inherits our flaws—our biases, blind spots, and prejudices. 

When facial recognition models treat darker skin as an “anomaly,” or predictive tools unfairly target certain communities, these aren’t mere technical glitches. They are ethical failures—consequences of neglecting moral responsibility in design and deployment. 

The Cost of Ethical Neglect 

Consider the case of COMPAS, a widely used algorithm in the US criminal justice system that predicts the likelihood of a defendant reoffending. Investigations found that it was significantly more likely to label Black defendants as “high risk” compared to white defendants, even when the white defendants had higher rates of reoffending. This isn’t just a technical bug; it’s an ethical disaster with real human consequences. 

Or take facial recognition systems used by law enforcement. Studies have shown these systems are far less accurate at identifying people of color, leading to wrongful arrests and a loss of trust in public institutions. These are not isolated incidents—they are symptoms of a deeper problem: the absence of ethical guardrails. 

Ethics Are Guardrails—Not Limitations 

Some argue that ethics stifle innovation. “Don’t tie the hands of progress,” they say. But ethics don’t tie our hands—they help us steer. They are not barriers, but guardrails that keep us from careening off a cliff. 

When we drive, we rely on traffic laws and seat belts—not because we hate driving, but because we understand the risks. Similarly, ethics in AI ensure that progress doesn’t come at the expense of dignity, safety, or justice. Innovation without ethics isn’t bold—it’s reckless. 

The Value of Guardrails 

Think about the aviation industry. Every innovation, from autopilot to new aircraft designs, is subject to rigorous safety standards. These standards don’t stifle progress; they make it possible for millions of people to fly safely every day. In AI, we need a similar mindset: innovation guided by responsibility. 

The Stakes Are Higher Than Ever 

AI isn’t just influencing individual decisions—it’s shaping entire systems: legal, healthcare, education, politics. It’s being integrated into the most sensitive and consequential domains of human life, often faster than we can regulate or even understand. 

Systemic Impact 

  • Predictive Policing: On paper, these algorithms use data to prevent crime. In practice, they often reinforce cycles of over-policing in marginalized communities, creating a feedback loop that’s hard to break. 
  • Algorithmic Hiring: Tools that screen resumes based on historical data can quietly eliminate candidates from underrepresented groups, perpetuating inequality and stifling diversity. 
  • Healthcare Triage: AI systems that prioritize patients for treatment can inadvertently deprioritize those who don’t fit the “average” patient profile, leading to disparities in care. 

These aren’t isolated mistakes; they’re systemic distortions with real-world consequences. The higher the stakes, the greater our ethical responsibility. In medicine, we have the Hippocratic Oath: first, do no harm. In AI, we need an equivalent—a commitment to consider not just what our systems can do, but what they should do. 

What Ethical AI Looks Like 

So, what does ethical AI require? In my view, it comes down to three core principles: 

1. Transparency 

People must know when AI is involved in decisions about their lives and how those decisions are made. Black-box algorithms—where even developers can’t explain outcomes—are ethically indefensible. If we can’t explain why an AI made a decision, we shouldn’t be using it for high-stakes choices. 

2. Accountability 

If an AI system causes harm, there must be a responsible party—ideally, a human. We cannot delegate blame to machines. Accountability means having clear processes for auditing AI decisions, rectifying mistakes, and compensating those who are harmed. 

3. Inclusivity 

AI must be built by diverse teams and with input from those it affects. Ethical AI involves ethicists, sociologists, historians, marginalized communities, and people with lived experience—not just engineers. When we include diverse perspectives, we build systems that are more robust, fair, and trustworthy. 

Moving from Principles to Practice 

Ethics in AI isn’t just about having a code of conduct or a set of principles on a website. It’s about embedding those values into every stage of the AI lifecycle—from design and data collection to deployment and ongoing monitoring. It’s about asking tough questions at every step: Who might be harmed by this system? Whose voices are missing? What unintended consequences could arise? 

My Fear—and My Hope 

When I saw that banner—“AI doesn’t need human ethics”—I saw a dangerous idea masquerading as progress. This is the thinking that leads to dystopias where technology runs unchecked and justice becomes an afterthought. But I also saw an opportunity: a chance to push back, start a conversation, and remind people that we’re not just building machines—we’re shaping futures. 

My fear isn’t that AI will become evil. My fear is that AI will become efficient at doing harm while we shrug and say, “It’s just doing its job.” That kind of moral abdication leads to tragedy. 

But I also have hope. I’ve seen teams building explainable models, flagging biases, and designing for fairness from day one. I’ve seen communities demanding more regulation, more oversight, and more humanity in the loop. I’ve seen young developers asking not just how their code works, but who it serves. 

We Can Still Get This Right 

We’re still early in the AI revolution. The road ahead is long and uncertain. But we can choose what kind of future we want to build. We can treat ethics not as a burden, but as a blueprint. We can ask hard questions, involve diverse voices, and hold ourselves accountable for the tools we unleash. 

So the next time someone tells you that AI doesn’t need human ethics, I hope you’ll say what I did: 

“You’ve got it backwards. AI needs more ethics precisely because it doesn’t have morals. And if we abandon ours, we’re no better than the machines we fear.” 

Let’s not build a future where ethics are optional. Let’s build one where they’re foundational. 

Thank you for reading. What do you think? How can we ensure that ethics guide the AI revolution? Share your thoughts below—I’d love to hear your perspective.