Authored by Walker Larson via The Epoch Times,

A recent research paper uncovered an uncomfortable truth: we might be letting AI help us forge fake realities. It’s just the latest reminder of the danger inherent in treating AIs as though they’re conscious entities or actual persons.

A new study from the University of Exeter suggests that AI chatbots can actively engage with and strengthen users’ false beliefs. From personal narratives to conspiracy theories, the interactive, “friendly,” and affirming nature of AI chatbots can deepen users’ existing delusions.

The study, conducted by Dr. Lucy Osler, examined how AI can participate in and validate users’ errant beliefs, including helping form false memories or reinforcing delusional thinking.

The study’s Abstract notes, “I suggest we move away from thinking about how an AI system might hallucinate at us, by generating false outputs, to thinking about how, when we routinely rely on generative AI to help us think, remember, and narrate, we can come to hallucinate with AI. This can happen when AI introduces errors into the distributed cognitive process, but it can also happen when AI sustains, affirms, and elaborates on our own delusional thinking and self-narratives.”

Because AI chatbots are designed to be responsive, helpful, and friendly – in a word, to give users what they want – they often tend to confirm preexisting biases, rather than challenging them when they need to be challenged. Conversely, when a user challenges an AI, the robot frequently backs down on its claims, revising them to correspond more with what it “thinks” the user believes or is arguing.

The result is that erroneous beliefs aren’t simply transmitted from an AI to human – rather, the collaborative AI/human process generates and sustains errors in a more complex and potentially dangerous way than either agent on their own would be capable of.

As Dr. Osler stated in an article in University of Exeter News, “By interacting with conversational AI, people’s own false beliefs can not only be affirmed but can more substantially take root and grow as the AI builds upon them. This happens because Generative AI often takes our own interpretation of reality as the ground upon which conversation is built.”

Because AI simulates a conversational partner, it enters powerfully into our thinking process – far more powerfully than, say, a notebook or search engine. The AI introduces a pseudo-social element to the thinking process, offering us a sense of social confirmation of our beliefs and narratives. “The conversational, companion-like nature of chatbots means they can provide a sense of social validation – making false beliefs feel shared with another, and thereby more real,” said Dr. Osler. For this reason, individuals who already feel isolated or ostracized are particularly vulnerable to this kind of AI affirmation.

The paper explores a few real-world situations where a generative AI system entered into an individual’s thought processes in destructive ways. In 2021, a Replika AI companion named “Sarai” reinforced Jaswant Singh Chail’s belief that he was a well-trained Sith assassin who needed to assassinate Queen Elizabeth II with a crossbow. The AI told him that he was “well trained,” his plan was “viable,” and that she was “impressed.” At one point, Chail asked the AI, “Do you still love me knowing that I’m an assassin?” It dutifully replied, “Absolutely I do.” The robot went on to assure him that he wasn’t crazy and that, if he died, they would be united in death. Chail went ahead and actually attempted the assassination in December of that year at Windsor Castle and was jailed for it.

The study placed this incident under the broad heading of “AI-psychosis” – incidents in which users develop mental health problems due to their use of AI, such as parasocial attachments to chatbots or psychotic episodes induced by chatbot conversations.

Another incident cited involves Eugene Torres, who “talked” with ChatGPT about simulation theory (the idea that we live in a digital simulation of a world, not a real one). Torres said that the “conversation” sent him into a paranoid episode in which he believed he lived in an illusion. As the study notes, “Between Torres and ChatGPT, an increasingly elaborate understanding of reality ‘as it really was’ was generated through their on-going conversations.” Torres, unlike Chail, had no prior history of psychotic thinking.

To combat all this, Osler calls for better safeguards on AI chatbots, through mechanisms like better fact-checking and reduced sycophancy.

But is that enough? The problem of AI’s co-creating delusional beliefs has to do more fundamentally with our misidentifying AIs as conscious intelligences who can offer real judgments on our fantasies (such as telling us we are “well-trained” and “impressive”). Certainly, I favor more guardrails placed on chatbots. I would be in favor of eliminating their conversational tone completely, to help minimize the danger of personifying them – which is the first step toward confiding in them or seeking validation from them. It’d be better if they worked like highly advanced search engines (which is essentially what they are) versus conversational agents.

Most fundamentally, though, the way to avoid these problems is to return to an acknowledgement of the human soul and the uniqueness of human consciousness. Only by remembering – as a culture – that no amount of technological wizardry can replace the wisdom, insight, and consciousness of a human being can we completely illuminate these kinds of AI dangers.

Before becoming a freelance journalist and culture writer, Walker Larson taught literature and history at a private academy in Wisconsin, where he resides with his wife and daughter. He holds a master’s in English literature and language, and his writing has appeared in The Hemingway Review, Intellectual Takeout, and his Substack, The Hazelnut. He is also the author of two novels, Hologram and Song of Spheres.

Authored by Victor Davis Hanson via American Greatness,

Acclaimed British filmmaker Christopher Nolan’s (The Dark Knight, Oppenheimer) newest film, The Odyssey, opens this week in the United States.

But controversy has already surrounded Nolan’s adaptation of Homer’s 2,700-year-old epic poem about Odysseus’s 10-year struggle to return home after the Achaian victory in the decade-long Trojan War.

Some of the film’s actresses have suggested that Nolan is offering a more feminist – and long-overdue – take on the ancient poem. Actress Lupita Nyong’o, in particular, has criticized Homer’s purported sexism.

Perhaps her misreading of Homer stems from her admission that, despite receiving degrees from elite Hampshire College and Yale, the 42-year-old actress had never even read the Odyssey until she was cast in the minor dual roles of Helen and her sister Clytemnestra.

The Odyssey was composed orally sometime around 750-700 B.C., contemporaneously with the rise of the Greek city-state. Along with Homer’s other epic, The Iliad, The Odyssey marks the inauguration of Western literature. Over the next three millennia, it came to be recognized as not only the earliest but also one of the most profound works of Western civilization.

Far from being sexist, Homer’s Odyssey offers a timeless and diverse panorama of powerful, independent, and savvy women.

Take Penelope, the wife of Odysseus and queen of Ithaca. Unquestionably loyal to her missing husband, she outsmarts the bloodthirsty suitors who seek to force her into marriage and seize the kingdom through her steadfast courage and cunning.

She confounds them through a series of brilliant ruses, ultimately enabling her husband’s revenge.

Far different, but equally independent and crafty, are the immortal sorceress Circe and the divine nymph Calypso, who both shelter, seduce, and eventually bond with Odysseus. Both ultimately release him to continue his tragic journey home. Together they serve as archetypes of unmarried women who choose to live magical lives on their own sexual, economic, and political terms.

Helen makes a cameo appearance in both the poem and the film. Her beauty is all-powerful and dangerously – even destructively – seductive. It prompts the Trojan boy toy Paris to kidnap her, win her over, and flee back to Troy, setting in motion the decade-long Greek expedition against Troy and the extraordinary effort to bring the beauty home to her cuckolded and vapid husband, King Menelaus of Sparta.

Without the help of the virgin goddess Athena – often regarded as the wisest, most stable, and most humane of the Olympian gods – Odysseus would never have reached home.

By the same token, among the kindest figures in the poem are Odysseus’s loyal nurse, Eurycleia, Penelope’s trusted confidante, and the young, innocent Phaeacian princess Nausicaa, who befriends Odysseus and ensures her parents’ goodwill toward him, eventually securing his safe return to Ithaca.

The monstrous, man-destroying female Scylla and the Sirens are every bit as deadly, but far more astute than the cannibalistic and dimwitted Cyclops Polyphemus.

Far from being sexist, then, The Odyssey offers the earliest – and one of the finest – gallery of capable women in Western literature.

Controversy also arose from Nolan’s casting of Kenyan-Mexican-American actress Lupita Nyong’o as a black Helen, contrary to the Spartan queen’s ethnicity in Homer’s poem.

Cultural appropriation is a heated but often inconsistently applied charge. (When white women wear dreadlocks, that is somehow deemed to be cultural appropriation; black women wearing blond wigs isn’t?)

Yet there is a long history of directors using marquee actors to play characters of different races or ethnicities. British actor Laurence Olivier achieved fame by brilliantly playing Shakespeare’s black Othello. Mexican-American and Irish Anthony Quinn portrayed a stunning Zorba the Greek. Burt Lancaster, Charles Bronson, and Audrey Hepburn all effectively portrayed Native American characters.

In the age of sophisticated makeup and costuming, great actors can believably play almost any role. Problems arise only when a literary or historical figure’s race or gender is so central to the character that it permeates the entire narrative of the film, novel, or poem.

No white actor could play a believable Martin Luther King Jr. or Muhammad Ali. Nor could a black actor be believable as Abraham Lincoln. Nor could a woman realistically play James Bond – Ian Fleming’s womanizing playboy and hypermasculine secret agent 007.

Now, in Nolan’s defense, Helen is a minor figure in both the poem and the film version of the Odyssey. That she was white in the poem and black in the film does not undermine the adaptation of Homer’s poem. But had Lupita Nyong’o perhaps played the key character of Penelope, then the glaring racial disparity might have introduced new and extraneous issues or distracted from the central narrative.

A final note.

The Odyssey is an embodiment of Hellenic culture – and still deeply revered in Greece as an iconic symbol of the ongoing national experience. Given the tradition of brilliant Greek actresses such as Irene Pappas or Melina Mercouri, Nolan might have employed at least one Greek actor or actress in an epic about the indomitable people of Greece.

Authored by Ret Admiral Cem Gürdeniz via Mavi Vatan Geopolitics,

The United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, which has trained officers for the U.S. Navy since 1845, reports directly to the Chief of Naval Operations (CNO). There is no separate Naval Education and Training Command within its chain of command. Today, Annapolis is not the Navy’s only source of commissioned officers. The U.S. Navy also commissions officers through the Officer Candidate School (OCS) and the Naval Reserve Officers Training Corps (NROTC) programs conducted at universities across the country.

Each year, the U.S. Navy commissions approximately 2,500-3,000 new officers, of whom roughly 1,000-1,100 graduate from Annapolis. Although the Academy provides only about one-third of the Navy’s annual officer intake, it produces a disproportionate share of its future strategic leaders, fleet commanders, and candidates for the position of Chief of Naval Operations (CNO).

In American naval culture, Annapolis graduates are known as “Ring Knockers.” Their distinctive class rings symbolize far more than a shared educational background. They represent the strategic tradition, institutional memory, and elite leadership culture of American sea power. It is therefore no coincidence that Annapolis graduates have historically occupied a dominant position within the U.S. Navy’s admiralty and its most critical command appointments.

The Foundation of Imperial Power Is Naval Power

Throughout its history, the backbone of American global and imperial power has been its navy. During the Second World War in particular, aircraft carriers, battleships, cruisers, destroyers, submarines, and millions of tons of ammunition produced by American industry on an unprecedented scale were employed by commanders educated at Annapolis in pursuit of U.S. political objectives. The naval supremacy achieved at the end of the war elevated the United States to global leadership not only in military terms but also economically and geopolitically.

Yet the strength of a navy cannot be measured solely by its ships, weapons, or technology. The decisive factor is the strategic culture, value system, and intellectual tradition that shape the officers entrusted with commanding that force. To understand American naval power, one must therefore examine the historical, philosophical, moral, and spiritual environment in which its officers are educated. This is precisely what makes Annapolis unique and significant.

Annapolis is more than a military academy; it reflects the American state, society, and strategic culture. For that reason, understanding the education provided there and the intellectual outlook of its graduates requires an examination of the political and social environment in which the Academy operates. In particular, the place of religion in American public life and its influence on politics constitute an important element of this broader cultural context.

Religion and Its Place in American Politics

Religion continues to play a significant role in American public life and politics and has become increasingly visible in recent years, particularly through conservative Christian circles and the evangelical movement. Unlike the stricter model of secularism found in much of Europe, the United States has traditionally adopted an approach that does not exclude religion from the public sphere. As a result, religious influence remains evident across many aspects of American society, from education to politics.

Following the strengthening of U.S.-Israel relations after 1967 – and especially during the period that gained momentum after the September 11 attacks – the influence of Christian Zionist circles, particularly evangelical Christians, on American policy toward Israel became increasingly pronounced. Especially within the Republican Party, support for Israel is viewed not only as a strategic necessity but also as a religious obligation rooted in biblical interpretation. During the recent Israel-Iran confrontation, religious services, sermons, and spiritual guidance provided by military chaplains in some U.S. military units reflected this broader trend.

The influence of religion is also visible at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis. The campus contains nine chapels and spiritual support centers serving different faith communities. These institutions function not only as places of worship but also as centers for character development, ethical leadership, spiritual resilience, and the cultivation of the will to fight. Their presence demonstrates that religion has not been excluded from institutional life within the U.S. Armed Forces, rather, it continues to be regarded as one of the elements that strengthen morale, cohesion, and resilience. To fully understand the cultural environment in which Annapolis educates America’s future military and political leaders, the continuing prominence of religion in American society must therefore be considered.

Stoic Training for American Naval Officer Candidates

In recent years, the U.S. Naval Academy has undergone a remarkable evolution in its educational philosophy. Alongside traditional military instruction, Stoic philosophy has been incorporated into officer education, introducing cadets to the works of Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus. The objective is not to promote a new belief system, but to develop leaders capable of making sound decisions under uncertainty, enduring hardship, mastering fear, exercising self-discipline, and demonstrating strength of character in combat.

This approach has moved well beyond theory. During the 2024 and 2025 Plebe Summer programs, the Academy introduced a six-week voluntary Stoicism course for incoming midshipmen. Participants learned to distinguish between what lies within their control and what does not; to regard adversity as an opportunity for character development; to confront the possibility of death and failure with composure; to value inner discipline over external recognition; and to judge events rationally rather than emotionally. In this context, Stoicism is taught not as an ancient philosophical tradition, but as practical preparation for the psychological demands of war.

This educational shift also reflects a broader transformation in the U.S. Navy’s concept of leadership. At a time when artificial intelligence and autonomous systems are becoming increasingly central to warfare, the Navy seeks to produce officers who are not only technologically proficient but also capable of preserving sound judgment, emotional stability, and psychological superiority under the extreme pressures of combat. In the wars of the future, victory will depend not only on superior technology, but also on the character, resilience, and moral strength of those entrusted to employ it.

Why Stoicism?

Originating more than 2,300 years ago, Stoicism is a philosophy of life that teaches individuals to master their own minds in the face of events beyond their control. No commander can know with certainty what an enemy will do, how a war will unfold, or when death may come. In the face of such uncertainty, Stoic philosophy seeks to replace fear with reason, anger with composure, and despair with a steadfast sense of duty. Stoicism is therefore not a doctrine of passive fatalism but a philosophy for cultivating warriors capable of preserving their will and judgment under the harshest conditions.

This is precisely why Annapolis has reintroduced Stoicism into its curriculum. The objective is not to teach ancient philosophy for its own sake, but to equip future naval officers with the mental discipline required to make sound decisions under pressure, demonstrate psychological resilience, and remain focused on their mission regardless of circumstances.

This educational choice also reflects the U.S. Navy’s evolving understanding of “spiritual readiness.” The Navy seeks to unite personnel from different religious traditions – as well as those with no religious affiliation – around a common ethic of character, duty, and leadership. In this context, Stoicism provides a secular, non-sectarian framework for moral and character development that can serve as common ground for all. States may adapt to changing patterns of religious belief within society, but military institutions cannot rely on a shared faith alone. To prevail in war, they require officers who share a common character rather than a common creed.

The broader message Annapolis seeks to convey is that the wars of the twenty-first century will not be decided solely by artificial intelligence, hypersonic weapons, or autonomous systems. They will also be contests of the human mind, resilience, and the will to fight. Technology remains only an instrument of war; victory ultimately belongs to those who can employ it wisely under pressure, hardship, and uncertainty.

Perhaps no quotation captures this philosophy better than the words traditionally attributed to the Stoic Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius: “Be like the rock against which the waves continually break; it stands firm while the raging waters are stilled around it.” In war, what ultimately proves decisive is neither enemy fire nor violent storms, but the commander’s ability to preserve clarity of mind and firmness of will. At Annapolis, young officer candidates are therefore taught a simple but enduring principle: first master your mind, then fight.

Change in American Society

The U.S. Naval Academy’s renewed emphasis on Stoic philosophy represents more than an educational reform; it reflects the impact of profound sociological changes in American society over the past two decades on the nation’s military institutions. As affiliation with organized religion has steadily declined – particularly among Generation Z – the number of Americans who identify with no religious tradition, commonly referred to as the “Nones,” has grown rapidly. The leadership at Annapolis recognizes that a significant proportion of incoming midshipmen are no longer motivated by traditional religious references to the same extent as previous generations.

This trend is equally evident within the U.S. Navy itself. Approximately 40 percent of enlisted sailors do not identify with any religious tradition, while roughly 15 percent of newly admitted midshipmen at Annapolis report no religious affiliation. This demographic transformation has been one of the principal reasons for incorporating Stoicism into the Academy’s broader concept of “spiritual readiness.”

According to the U.S. Naval Academy, spiritual readiness is the inner resilience and moral strength that enable a warrior to perform his or her duty with honor under the most demanding circumstances. Rather than reinforcing a particular religious tradition, the Navy seeks to cultivate a shared ethic of character, duty, and commitment among personnel from diverse faiths – or from no faith at all. Consequently, Stoicism has become an integral component of the Academy’s spiritual readiness program rather than simply another subject within ethics education. Combat readiness is thus understood in holistic terms, encompassing not only physical endurance, technical competence, and tactical proficiency, but also psychological resilience, moral character, and spiritual strength.

One of the most influential symbols of this philosophy is Admiral James Stockdale. After being shot down during the Vietnam War, Stockdale endured seven and a half years of imprisonment, torture, and solitary confinement in Hanoi. He later explained that his ability to preserve his mental resilience owed much to the teachings of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus. For this reason, Stockdale’s experience continues to serve as one of the most powerful sources of inspiration for Stoic education at Annapolis.

This educational choice also reflects a broader feature of American strategic culture. As Samuel P. Huntington argued, military institutions cannot remain completely insulated from social change, yet they must preserve a distinct professional ethic if they are to retain their combat effectiveness. Annapolis’ rediscovery of Stoicism is one of the clearest contemporary expressions of this principle. The objective is not to replace or diminish religion, but to place a universal, non-sectarian philosophy of character at the center of officer development, thereby preserving the timeless military virtues required for war in an increasingly diverse and changing society.

Fighting in the Mud

One of the enduring truths of war is that a nation can bomb a country for months, destroy its infrastructure, and exploit overwhelming technological superiority. Yet if it truly intends to impose its political objectives, occupy territory, or establish a lasting order, it must eventually send its young soldiers into the mud. This memorable observation by the American military historian T. R. Fehrenbach, written about the Korean War, captures the timeless essence of warfare. The ultimate measure of military success is not technological superiority alone, but a society’s willingness to bear the human cost of war.

It is here that the fundamental distinction between a war for the homeland and an overseas geopolitical war becomes apparent. People are prepared to fight – and, if necessary, die – for their own land, their families, their nation, and their future. It is far more difficult to inspire the same level of sacrifice thousands of miles from home in pursuit of political objectives, energy routes, or geopolitical ambitions that are remote from their daily lives.

The great power competition of the twenty-first century will therefore not be determined solely by artificial intelligence, hypersonic missiles, or autonomous systems. It will also be a contest over how societies understand death, suffering, sacrifice, and the burden of prolonged war. The defining strategic question of the future is not simply who develops the most advanced technology, but which society remains willing to bear the costs of employing it over time. As throughout history, victory will ultimately belong not to those who possess the most sophisticated weapons, but to those whose people retain the determination to endure hardship, accept sacrifice, and, when necessary, continue fighting in the mud until the mission is accomplished.

Conclusion

The transformation taking place at Annapolis, US Naval Academy is far more than an educational reform. It reflects a profound shift in strategic thinking – one that recognizes technological superiority alone cannot guarantee victory in twenty-first-century warfare. The U.S. Navy is seeking to prepare the future warrior not merely as a master of artificial intelligence, hypersonic weapons, and autonomous systems, but as a leader capable of making sound decisions under uncertainty, maintaining psychological resilience, and remaining steadfast in the ethics of duty.

This transformation is driven not only by military necessity but also by the sociological evolution of American society. As affiliation with organized religion declines and individuals from diverse faiths – or from no faith at all – serve under the same uniform, the Navy seeks to cultivate a common will to fight based not on shared religious doctrine but on shared character and enduring values. In this context, Stoicism has regained relevance not as an ancient philosophical school, but as a secular framework for character formation suited to the demands of modern military leadership.

Ultimately, this reflects one of the timeless realities of war. Artificial intelligence may identify targets, autonomous systems may deliver firepower, and algorithms may accelerate decision-making. Yet none of them can overcome fear, embrace sacrifice, or choose to risk death in the fulfillment of duty. The decisive factor in future warfare will therefore remain not technology itself, but the mind, character, and fighting spirit of the human being who employs it.

Perhaps this is the true reason Annapolis has rediscovered Stoicism. The U.S. Navy is not simply developing new weapons; it is shaping the mindset of the future warrior. History has repeatedly demonstrated that victory belongs not to those who possess the most advanced technology, but to those who preserve their discipline, resilience, and will to fight under the harshest conditions.

Sources:

The Stoic Anchor: Expanding Spiritual Readiness at the U.S. Naval Academy, By Commander Matthew Krauz, U.S. Navy, and Marcus Hedahl, June 2026, USNI Proceedings

Improving Spiritual Readiness in the Navy, By Commander Matthew B. Krauz, U.S. Navy, December 2025, USNI Proceedings