{"id":482156,"date":"2026-05-13T07:06:10","date_gmt":"2026-05-13T07:06:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/482156\/"},"modified":"2026-05-13T07:06:10","modified_gmt":"2026-05-13T07:06:10","slug":"what-makes-us-human-making-as-searching","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/482156\/","title":{"rendered":"What Makes Us Human: Making as searching"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cWhat Makes Us Human?\u201d is a biweekly column in which Emi Sakamoto \u201928 investigates the interdisciplinary criteria whereby we might better respond to this metaphysically contested question. Amid our rapidly evolving technological landscape, it is incumbent upon us to do so.<\/p>\n

When associate communications professor Ang\u00e8le Christin referred<\/a> me to Hideo Mabuchi, professor of applied physics, I expected our conversation to meander into a meditation on the fundamental laws of the universe. My intuition was soon corrected: our conversation suspended this a priori and exceeded first principles.<\/p>\n

It became so by nature of the art of it. As a physicist and ceramicist, Mabuchi has led a life committed to disentangling the abstraction which often defines the theory of applied physics. Physics, the foundation of science and, in turn, life itself, is clouded by its own opacity, mystifying qualities which falter from the ground \u2018truth\u2019 it hopes to discern under a microscope. I was captivated by Mabuchi\u2019s mastery of both the hard sciences and arts, as they are pronounced by entirely distinct skills and processes: the former, almost strictly theoretical, and the latter, ineluctably physical.\u00a0<\/p>\n

In the quiet contemplation that shaped our conversation, Mabuchi began, \u201cThe first time I tried woodfiring \u2014 firing ceramics in a woodburning kiln \u2014 I realized there\u2019s a depth of knowing and craft expertise for the process which you could pursue forever.\u201d Our time here might be marked by impermanence, but our devotion to craft is anything but bound to the fiction of finality.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Still, craft isn\u2019t about the final form. The final form is what follows the firing of the ceramic in the kiln, polishing its exterior with a celestial marbling. It\u2019s about the friction which is formative to the clay itself. Mabuchi explained this through a delicate balance which must be reconciled during the throwing of clay. \u201cIf you use too much water, the clay gets stuck,\u201d Mabuchi said. \u201cBut the tradeoff for throwing dry is: there\u2019s a lot of friction.\u201d It is often this seemingly intolerable friction, once overcome, which makes the final form so silky and exceptionally perfect. Friction, I learned, was necessary to \u2018final\u2019 form.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Speaking of friction, I struggled with the abstraction of physics \u2014 how its lessons could possibly be folded into the physicality of ceramics. Mabuchi discovered the applications of each discipline as a mutual form of shaping, unintended \u2014 while somehow still scrupulously tended to.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never would have expected that studying electron microscopy would contribute to my understanding of woodfire ceramics surfaces,\u201d Mabuchi reflected. \u201cIt turns out that surface color formation and woodfire are really linked to igneous petrology and volcanology. The aluminosilicate melt is compositionally a lot like lava or magma. As it cools, depending on the rate of cooling and how much oxygen is in the kiln, the minerals form different kinds of minerals, which determine the color and surface texture.\u201d<\/p>\n

This creation, this craft that Mabuchi has dedicated his life to is well articulated by what he coins<\/a> the \u2018creative cycle.\u2019 This process involves the following: \u201cSeek\/make; relate\/reflect; teach\/write.\u201d When I asked him about what inspired him to develop this framework, he spoke of philosophers who wrote about how \u201cour understanding of what thinking is has collapsed\u2026 We have fallen into a habit of believing that thinking is what computers do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mabuchi took care to divorce \u2018thinking\u2019 from the human \u2018urge\u2019 to act, independent of any algorithmically predicted line of code. \u201cThinking doesn\u2019t always start with a problem or a question,\u201d Mabuchi explained. \u201cVarious philosophers have said thinking starts with an undirected urge to do something. Ever since I was young, I had an urge to do something of a very certain kind.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he said something I\u2019ll never forget: \u201cMaking is searching\u2026 it\u2019s about getting close to the way it\u2019s supposed to feel.\u201d It is tantalizing, alluring even, to fall into the paralyzing fiction that we must know before we make, or that we must decrypt our life plan before it even happens. What Mabuchi clarified for me, however, was quite the opposite. It is the creative process, not product, which peels away at the core of our purpose here on earth. As students and beyond, it is incumbent upon us to engage deeply in this process because we are fortunate enough to contend with these questions.\u00a0<\/p>\n

This creative process is how we discover, shape and realize our own voice. Mabuchi described the taxonomy of craft as the composite structure of \u201cusing natural materials, working largely by hand and being aware of its long tradition, so that you have the sense that you are finding your own voice in that medium\u2026 You have to understand what your materials will do, what their qualities are and how you interact with them. It is through developing the craft that you develop the voice.\u201d A deep, aesthetic appreciation, rather than a superficial captivation with the glorified exterior, is how we craft. It is antithetical to how we consume.\u00a0<\/p>\n

The creative process demands work. Mabuchi explained, \u201cYou cannot develop a voice in the medium without putting in the hard work of developing the craft. It\u2019s similar to how you deal with difficulty and adversity.\u201d Thankfully, it\u2019s not all work. It\u2019s also play; it\u2019s also art. He continued, \u201cWhen people are doing things just because it\u2019s fun, cool, or wacky, that\u2019s not a bad umbrella term for art. You may never make a beautiful painting, but you do it just because. It\u2019s an exercise in appreciating the world in all of its diversity and playing around\u2026 Art in the broadest sense captures a lot of it.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

How much, then, of this creative cycle has become fragmented by AI? Mabuchi had an unexpected response to my question. He suggested that the advent of capable AI should spur us to rethink the \u2018human\u2019 in terms of what makes us so much more than machines and what makes living about so much more than conventional economic productivity.\u00a0<\/p>\n

It almost feels like a Darwinian race of finding the remaining niches that will allow us to survive whatever comes out of this AI arms race. Mabuchi suggested that it is time, whether we like it or not, to rediscover our humanity in the face of AI. Like the Copernican revolution, perhaps we are no longer the center of the universe. It\u2019s as disconcerting a revelation as it is humbling. Who are you? What makes what you can craft so meaningful? It\u2019s a crude, brutally pressing question. It\u2019s the friction, the hard question, we must be curious toward, rather than shy away from.\u00a0<\/p>\n

There is no reason, then, to acquiesce to the nihilism which has begun to seep into our collective posture toward an algorithmically structured future. Mabuchi voiced a clairvoyant, somewhat Cartesian optimism: \u201cAI [agents are] not responsible to the material, cultural, natural world. They are not embedded in society in the same way humans are. They don\u2019t have bodies. They don\u2019t understand embodied things, the kinds of things you experience when working with clay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mabuchi hopes that \u201cwhat we will see is a swing back towards the importance of the arts, craft, creativity, the humanities and understanding the human,\u201d he continued. \u201cThere are things we can do that an optimization algorithm can\u2019t do. The rationality, the capability for logical thought, those things are all important aspects of being a responsible human, but it is maybe not the distinctive thing about being human.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

His last note made my final question all the more pressing. What, then, makes us human? \u201cRecently I\u2019ve been thinking it\u2019s this whole thing with curiosity: the things I am interested in I couldn\u2019t exactly tell you why, and making progress on satisfying that curiosity,\u201d he answered. \u201cIt\u2019s about having the urge to do things that are not due to a survival instinct or social conditioning\u2026In our current socioeconomic paradigm, the room for expressing that curiosity largely arises in arts and creative practices.\u201d<\/p>\n

In the spirit of Eckhart Tolle, Mabuchi reminded me of the ever-present, inescapable now in interrogating the centripetal force of my question. He reminded me that this kind of question, \u2018what makes us human?\u2019 will continue to express its dynamism over time. Like us, it is a question that cannot be reduced to something static, flat, unchanging. Mabuchi said, \u201cTen thousand years ago, this meant something completely different than it does now\u2026years from now there will be completely new questions in the air. So maybe the question is more like, \u2018what does it mean to be human, now, in this moment?\u2019\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

I am still in the creative process of seeking \/ making; relating \/ reflecting; teaching \/ writing. And may I, may we forever be.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\u201cWhat Makes Us Human?\u201d is a biweekly column in which Emi Sakamoto \u201928 investigates the interdisciplinary criteria whereby…\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":482157,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[271],"tags":[291,71564,595,104639,110909,210865,57716,17545,18,210866,3293,6731,19,1915,17,57665,452,133],"class_list":{"0":"post-482156","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-physics","8":"tag-ai","9":"tag-applied-physics","10":"tag-art","11":"tag-ceramics","12":"tag-craft","13":"tag-creative-cycle","14":"tag-creative-process","15":"tag-creativity","16":"tag-eire","17":"tag-hideo-mabuchi","18":"tag-human","19":"tag-humanity","20":"tag-ie","21":"tag-interview","22":"tag-ireland","23":"tag-meaning","24":"tag-physics","25":"tag-science"},"share_on_mastodon":{"url":"https:\/\/pubeurope.com\/@ie\/116566005268855707","error":""},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/482156","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=482156"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/482156\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/482157"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=482156"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=482156"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/ie\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=482156"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}