What AI’s Rise Tells Us About Ourselves
- Jul 21
- 2 min read
Cognition AI’s recent acquisition of Windsurf, as reported by Reuters, is more than just another tech merger—it’s a mirror. The deal, which effectively doubles down on AI-driven software engineering, signals something deeper about the way we see ourselves, our work, and our future.

Cognition’s flagship product, Devin, promises to write code, fix bugs, and ship software with unprecedented autonomy. It taps into a longstanding human impulse—to build tools that can multiply our efforts, reduce risk, and bypass limitation. But if we’re honest, this impulse isn’t just about efficiency. It’s about a deeper discomfort with dependence and an attempt to master the future through intellect and innovation.
This is where Christian anthropology offers a counterpoint. Scripture reminds us that humans are made not merely to produce, but to be formed. The heart is not a bug to be patched or a script to be optimized—it’s the wellspring of life (Proverbs 4:23). So what happens when the marketplace turns its attention to replacing human creativity itself? What happens when coding, once the domain of problem-solvers and makers, becomes the realm of machines?
This acquisition reveals our underlying tension: we crave control, but we are limited creatures. AI promises power without pain, output without effort. But in a biblical view, formation—whether personal or economic—comes through process, not bypass. The market may cheer breakthroughs like Devin for their potential to boost productivity and scale human labor. But Christian wisdom urges us to ask deeper questions: What kind of workers are we becoming? What do we lose when the friction of learning and struggle is removed?
That doesn’t mean we should fear AI. But we should be guarded against viewing it as a functional savior. The heart that chases after mastery without humility can’t handle the weight of the future. Even if Cognition’s tools perform brilliantly, they can’t teach us to love our neighbor, steward our influence, or reckon with our mortality.
Markets are noisy, but the heart is predictable. Beneath the optimism of this acquisition lies an ancient longing—for power, for security, for transcendence. In this sense, the Windsurf deal isn’t just about software. It’s about the soul.







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