A few days ago, Nobel laureate in literature Olga Tokarczuk commented that she had used artificial intelligence for the research for her new book. Shortly after, a story that won the Commonwealth Prize received numerous accusations of having been produced with AI. Now the issue is closer to home: after being accused of plagiarism on X, Antoni Gelonch has had to admit that he has used AI to write an article.The Turing test has never been on everyone's lips so much: was this written by a human mind or a digital mind? It is not surprising, however, that it is becoming increasingly difficult for us to distinguish between one type of mind and another. After all, digital minds are built from everything that humans have created over the millennia. In recent decades, we have placed an excessive emphasis on productivity and have increasingly prioritized systematization and structure, even in spheres considered most creative. There are countless guides and manuals in English on how to write articles, essays, poetry, narratives, novels, or doctoral theses, on how to conduct research or give talks that captivate the audience. We have measured and limited time and characters, we have designed the most suitable strategies to execute each task, we have created courses for absolutely everything. AI highlights that much of what we do is –or has become– remarkably mechanical: that's why machines can pass themselves off, with some ease, as us. As I was pondering all this in recent days, an article written by Víctor Català in 1927 came to mind. In the text in question, Català comments that criticism had considered that Drames rurals (1903) had shattered “a multitude of conventions, which, accepted through inertia and respected out of inertia, become a canon, a formula obeyed by the general public, who end up finding in them a kind of mattress on which to rest and mold their own taste”. Well, now it seems that what they praised about Víctor Català – the ability to identify and avoid inertia – will surely be one of the skills that humans will have to cling to the most.

Now it turns out that only one student has enrolled in the Romance Philology program at the University of Barcelona: Roc Àngela Novella. A new and rare angelic vocation, strong as stone. These studies, which flourished especially when directed by her, Martí de Riquer, They have been on the verge of disappearing since the retirement of that great scholar. A movement led by one of his daughters and a whole group of professors from that department, and others, has prevented its disappearance; but the sword of Damocles hangs over the head of this specialty, which, in fact, along with the degree in literary studies (or comparative literature), is the most generalist at this university. Years ago, a certain quídamo presented a report to unify, under the form of a humanities degree, the subjects of philosophy, philology, and history—which is what would have made the most sense at the time. But it did not prosper: it laughs at the taifa kingdoms of the Caliphate of Córdoba.

The question haunts us all from a young age: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" The first few times it is asked, the answers usually come in the form of police officer, firefighter, veterinarian, soccer player, or the recently added profession. influencer. While children are young, adults' reaction to these ideas is usually a mixture of tenderness and grace, but as time goes by, all this leads to the big question: "Will you ever find a job if you study this?" And here the humanities often come out on top.