If artificial intelligence now shapes how we learn, diagnose, farm, build, and govern, then the capacity to understand and improve it cannot be confined to a handful of well funded laboratories or private platforms. It must be a public capability, taught and practiced by students across the higher education system—and, increasingly, in advanced secondary programs. The state’s role is not merely to regulate the outputs of AI but to ensure that the next generation can study, te

If the Philippines aspires to be a producer rather than a passive consumer in the AI economy, it must treat compute, data, and connectivity as strategic infrastructure. Across Southeast Asia, peers are already moving at infrastructure scale: Singapore’s National AI Strategy 2.0 centers shared national compute; Malaysia has partnered with Nvidia and YTL Power to set up AI supercomputing in Johor; and Indonesia is backing an Indosat–Nvidia AI center in Central Java. These are n

On Nov. 6, I stood on the One Young World stage at ICM Messe Munich, looking out at 2,500 young leaders from 190 countries. The room fell quiet as I introduced myself in Kinaray-a, my mother tongue from Western Visayas in the Philippines. It was a short greeting, but for me it felt like bringing my whole community into a space where our language is almost never heard.

We don’t mint new human rights lightly. But we should add one now: the right to access capable, safe AI. Around the world, language is the gateway to opportunity; AI is a universal language machine that translates, tutors, summarizes, designs, and reasons across barriers of literacy, disability, and geography. When a technology is this general and transformative, withholding it isn’t neutral—it sorts people into those who can participate fully in education, the economy, civic

AI promises to “know” everything—but who decides what can be known, and by whom? As a young leader, I am honored to be part of One Young World’s Indigenous Advisory Circle and to work alongside thousands of Indigenous youth who are advancing data sovereignty in our communities. For us, data is not raw material. It carries story, ceremony, and responsibility. When algorithms scrape the internet and call it “open,” they often ingest our culture without consent. The fastest way

We are racing to teach machines to understand human language. But what if the data we're feeding them represents only a tiny fraction of human expression? Our AI future, often portrayed as a pinnacle of intelligence, risks being culturally impoverished and fundamentally biased if we don't act now. The fight to preserve the world’s endangered languages is not a nostalgic look backward; it is an urgent, forward-looking necessity to build a truly intelligent and equitable techno

When Alan Turing imagined artificial intelligence, he didn’t picture a finished adult mind striding out of a lab. He proposed “child machines”—modest systems that learn through experience, guidance, and a bit of luck. It’s a humane idea from the century’s sharpest logician: don’t build a genius; raise one.

In the midst of the AI revolution, a paradox defines our era: While technology accelerates beyond imagination, much of our workforce is struggling to keep pace. This dissonance is not a failure of individuals, but a collective oversight in how we prepare for the future. If we continue to advance machines without equally investing in human potential, we risk deepening economic divides and squandering the greatest asset any society has—its people.

Am I scared of AI? I am. And this is precisely why I’m talking about it. Artificial intelligence (AI) is quickly reshaping every aspect of our world. It has already begun transforming critical sectors such as healthcare, finance, education, communication, creativity, and social connectivity. AI's potential to address complex global challenges, optimize processes, improve efficiency, and foster groundbreaking innovations is remarkable. We stand at the brink of an unprecedented

Artificial intelligence is rapidly becoming the backbone of economic growth, public services, and even national security. Yet its benefits—and the power to set its rules—are overwhelmingly concentrated in a handful of wealthy nations. For countries across Africa, Latin America, and much of Asia, this imbalance not only stifles homegrown innovation but also risks perpetuating a new form of digital dependency.

In an era where algorithms curate our newsfeeds, drive our cars, and even assist in medical diagnoses, understanding artificial intelligence is no longer optional—it’s essential. AI isn’t an ethereal force; it is a collection of mathematical models trained on vast quantities of data. Like any powerful tool, it carries the promise of tremendous benefit and the risk of unintended harm. As these systems become ever more deeply woven into our daily lives, here are the 10 things a

These were the thoughts running through my mind on the train to London AI Week where I am slated to speak about a future where AI truly serves humanity. Around me, people spoke in German, Polish, Tamil, and English. The mix of languages reminded me that while the world grows more connected, the digital world remains linguistically lopsided. If you asked your phone in Polish for a definition of multimodal AI, you might get a passable response. Ask in Tamil, and it may struggle

I have long warned that AI’s rapid advancement could parallel historical patterns of colonization. If AI truly represents a black swan event—a disruptive moment in history—then we must confront what happens when 99 percent of the world’s languages are left behind. This is far more than a linguistic concern; it strikes at the heart of accessibility, representation, and digital equity. If we do not change who leads AI development, we risk inaugurating a new era of digital colon