# We Need Turing's Test v2.0: Don't Play Ostrich Published: 2026-02-01 Canonical: https://journal.xiaotianfanx.com/journal/we-need-turing-s-test-v2-0-don-t-play-ostrich On Computing Machinery and Intelligence, by Alan Turing. Effectively a continuation of my previous posts [1, 2]. Within the framework of Turing’s "imitation game," the "heads in the sand" objection seems to represent a visceral, almost instinctive refusal to engage with the logical possibility of machine intelligence. Unlike mathematical or theological objections that attempt to find a structural flaw in the "thinking machine," this objection is rooted in a pure, existential dread, and thus, Turing identifies this as the sentiment when the consequences of machines' actually thinking would be simply too "dreadful" to permit—a hope that we might maintain our "commanding position" in the universe by sheer virtue of being the only entities capable of such a feat. In essence, it is the refusal to even look at the teleprinter in the other room, because if the machine succeeds in imitation, the hierarchical wall we have built between the human and the inanimate would crumble, leaving our status as "necessarily superior" in total ruins. To be honest, while Turing dismisses this objection as unworthy of a formal refutation—suggesting "consolation" rather than logic—I find it to be a profoundly serious problem, not for the validity of the test, but for the "real" development of our mindsets and the "living" of a human life itself. What Turing describes back then is already a manifestation of the nervousness and arrogance that I believe prevents us from seeing AI as a "genuinely novel kind of entity." (Interestingly, Turning's discussion 70+ years ago embodies more of the fundamental than some part of Zerelli's argument 5 years ago—although the latter's passage is indeed focusing on the common and the scope.) While "hoping" something isn't true is a logical failure for sure, the "heads in the sand" objection is, from my point of view, a psychological reality of both 70+ years ago and nowadays that reveals our lack of, or, hopefully, overlooked sense of internal dignity. If our sense of self is so fragile that the mere ostensible performance of intelligence makes us feel diminished, then maybe we have already failed to develop a dignity that is sufficient by itself. From my perspective, this objection is a "hazard" of the mind: potentially, it is our arrogance masquerading as intellectual concern, desperately propping up a still-human-centric worldview to stave off the loneliness of no longer being the only "wondrous capacity" in existence. It may not be a serious problem in terms of logic, but it is a serious barrier to any symbiotic/harmonic future, as we cannot coexist with what we are too afraid to even acknowledge. Interesting to see you develop this theme. You wonder why we are still so fragile, so prone to be[ing] frightened and in denial and why our sense of our own dignity is so weak. Could it be that threats/dangers are conflated with dignity undermining, but are very different? And also that the meaning, significance, purpose of human life is correctly seen as lacking secure existential foundations, e.g., religion hasn’t delivered; philosophy hasn’t? ——Owen Flanagan Indeed, I would say that it is evident enough that, at least for the time we are present now, the "existential foundation" seems to become more and more insecure—if not already insecure from the very beginning, or if not, it is by nature insecure. Actually, one of the major threads in my common discourse with some of my friends is on the "crisis of modernity"—using Straussian terms—or the difference between premodern, modern, and postmodern value systems and, therefore, existential foundations in our context. Pseudo or sounding, I guess both religions and philosophy had once somehow managed to provide that secure foundation we craved (and maybe still crave). In that sense, if the lack of a secure existential foundation is a part of human nature insofar as the post-foundational world appears to be, is AI, or a "thinking machine," performing as effectively as a trigger and catalyst that signifies us to realize and face our own nature? Revealing instead of creating the "hazard"? That said, as you reframe the theme to become broader in terms of a general existential "predicament," if not normality, of humanity's condition—given I understood you correctly, although I'm not sure if you had time to go through my last post—I would say that what I called dreadful, fragile, arrogant, nervous, and lonely (so to speak) is by all means largely also due to the fact that we commonly deny or are simply unaware of the very insecure existential foundation, not to mention when accompanied by positive/practical threats/dangers. If so, I guess it is eventually understandable when threats/dangers are often conflated with dignity undermining by many. One of the more social-realistical reasons for the conflation I could think of is that we have been "colonized" by a technological mindset, or, without using a euphemism, by alienation and instrumentalization that measures us using the metrics for "traditional machines." And thus, when AI starts to excel in those tailored standards, we, peculiarly natural, feel undermined as even the warped anchor of utility is being taken. On the other hand, at the end of the day, finding or still contending for inner dignity is presumably harder when, at the same time, acknowledging our insecurity/lack of foundation in the first place. However, on top of that, what I believe is that acknowledging the very lack of a secure(d) existential foundation per se is dignity—if there should be any definition for human dignity. In that case, returning to Turing's original idea, my stance and understanding of AI as a "novel kind of entity" is nevertheless distinct from what the "Turing test" focuses on by default. Although we are trying to respond to similar questions—whether one can imagine a "thinking machine" or not, and whether one can imagine AI as "a genuinely novel kind of entity" or not—Turing's initiative was still humanistic/anthropocentric, as the entire story of the "imitation game" is about imitating humans (as a benchmark). We used intelligence as a synonym for soul, mind, or consciousness for centuries; now that intelligence is being commodified by LLMs (gradually to a larger and larger extent, presumably), I suppose we are finally kicked into the process of realizing the part other than intelligence was left in suspension, if not empty, and should now be under the spotlight. Interestingly speaking, to conclude this with a personal anecdote, while I often argue for the postmodern stances from some random positive perspectives when conversing with my friends, I bizarrely find myself having this tendency of returning to some kind of existentialist understanding when discussing these "elephant in the room" questions on a normative-slash-personal basis. Essentially, humans as a whole are the Sisyphus of the 21st century now—and if Turing’s test asks if a machine can imitate a human and seeks a behavioral/functional peace, I'd like to seek the ontological peace and see if a human can accept and survive the invitation to stop being that benchmark. We must be "arrogant" enough, in that sense.