The rise of artificial expertise
The past week, my online feeds have been filled with posts spreading false information regarding the Philippine Juvenile Justice and Welfare Act, or Republic Act No. 9344. The most persistent fake news is that minors who commit heinous crimes cannot be held accountable and are simply set free without consequences.
What is noticeable in some of these online conversations is how people with actual training and field experience are being trolled and criticized while trying to explain the merits of the law, by users with little to no background on the matter, but who can now use artificial intelligence (AI) to craft emotionally charged rebuttals in polished, impressive-sounding language.
If social media gave everyone a platform, AI has made it quite easy to present oneself as an expert with just a few well-worded prompts. Some scholars refer to this as the “instant expertise paradox.” Since AI can now help individuals produce high-level outputs without the traditionally required level of proficiency, it is easy to have misplaced confidence in one’s knowledge and abilities. The issue here is not the use of AI itself, but the use of AI to assume an authority one has not earned.
When everyone can market themselves as an expert, how do we then establish which voices we should actually trust? What separates novices from those with real mastery is not just how much they know about a certain topic, but the nuanced judgment and in-depth understanding that can only come from decades of hands-on practice and the productive struggle of trial and error. A novice may be able to recite all the underlying theories to solve a problem, but those with real mastery know that application varies in every case and circumstance.
AI is good at synthesizing large amounts of information and generating responses that simulate critical thinking, creativity, and even wisdom. Stripped of the flowery buzzwords that hide surface-level understanding, however, these outputs often lack an expert’s tacit knowledge—experiential, context-dependent know-how that goes beyond what can be captured in any textbook or operations manual. It reminds me of those highly processed snacks that claim to contain real fruit but taste mostly like fillers and artificial flavoring.
Just as important is how people with real expertise acknowledge the bounds of their knowledge. Whenever I consult a friend of mine who works in corporate law, for example, she is always careful to remind me that education law and litigation are outside her area of expertise. A doctor may offer initial insight, but will still refer a case to a specialist who has seen more cases of that kind.
Many of the AI-enabled “instant experts,” however, are unable to properly vet generated responses and may pass on or reinforce hallucinated information as factual advice. Unfortunately, those who are least familiar with the limitations of LLMs (large language models) may also be the most likely to overestimate the reliability of their outputs, mistaking the authoritative tone for accuracy.
This is not to say that experts are infallible. Experts can be wrong, biased, outdated, or even arrogant. They are, however, bound by professional standards, peer evaluation, and ethical responsibilities, which compel them to be more careful in their opinions, as a misstep may have serious implications for their careers. In simpler terms, they have “skin in the game.” This is very different from anonymous accounts confidently posting AI-generated arguments with no responsibility for the harm they may cause. They can be wrong, misleading, or malicious, and still lose nothing.
The problem, of course, is that nuanced arguments don’t win social media battles; emotionally charged and shocking ideas do. In modern public discussions, the accuracy of what you say doesn’t matter as much as the engagement it generates. So it may not matter that someone is sharing a false interpretation of the juvenile justice law. If they say it with enough passion, outrage, and conviction, people may believe them over the development psychologists, lawyers, and social workers who have decades of research and experience behind their defense of restorative justice.
And when misinformation spreads, public anger can be misdirected. Policies can be shaped by fear rather than evidence.
Now more than ever, those with grounded expertise need strong communication skills, along with the patience and vigilance to correct misunderstandings. Nuanced interpretation is important, but so is explaining that nuance in language that people outside the profession can understand. In the past few weeks, it wasn’t lengthy academic posts but simple explainers and visual diagrams that have probably done more to clarify that the juvenile justice law does not remove accountability, but implements age-appropriate intervention and rehabilitation, and, when necessary, formal legal proceedings.
There is no doubt that AI helps us learn. But it should not be mistaken for expertise nor a shortcut to authority. In a world overflowing with opinions, perhaps an urgent skill we need to learn is to put our trust not in the loudest voice but in those with training, experience, accountability, and enough humility to say what they do not know.
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eleanor@shetalksasia.com
