When it comes to discussing artificial intelligence, two camps seem to be the loudest. One believes AI will bring about humanity's collapse: the "doomers." The other believes AI is an incredible, life-changing technology: the "optimists." 

Those in the "middle" are often overlooked. They're the skeptics, critics and pragmatists who agree that AI does both good and bad. They see the "never AI" and "AI is magic" camps as reductionist.

This may be cliche, but AI is polarizing, and I'm not surprised. 

It's a technology that's moving fast, and its impacts are uneven. AI is simultaneously responsible for thousands losing their jobs while also streamlining work for some. Chatbot psychosis is harming mental health and, in extreme cases, leading to deaths. Yet the tech is also powering medical breakthroughs that could save lives. 

Depending on who you ask, it's often either our biggest technological opportunity or our greatest existential threat. 

Heading into South by Southwest last month, a massive tech and culture conference held annually in Austin, Texas, I wouldn't have been able to define exactly which camp I fit into. After SXSW, I count myself among the optimists. Albeit an extremely cautious one. 

It's perfectly reasonable to feel fear about AI, but the black-and-white thinking that pervades doomerism isn't sustainable. It isn't just exhausting, it's paralyzing, a mindset we can't afford right now. If we genuinely believe AI is going to destroy everything, what exactly are we supposed to do? Sit in dread until the end? Wait on pins and needles for everything to collapse? Withdraw? Panic? Attack? 

This won't lead to better outcomes or a better future. It just leads to more anger, fear, anxiety and a sense of fatalism that makes action that much harder. 

I was dwelling on these very emotions before attending SXSW. But then I heard something I think I really needed to hear. In the final moments of a session led by Spotify's co-CEO, Gustav Söderström, he brought out David Friedberg, CEO of Ohalo, an agricultural tech company, to discuss the future of music, creativity and authenticity in the age of AI. 

Friedberg offered his opinions on the tension between techno-pessimism and techno-optimism. He said this doom-and-gloom attitude makes us worse. "The fear of tomorrow is what makes everyone turn against each other," Friedberg said. When we're afraid of what's to come, we blame the people around us. 

"It's very unhealthy. It goes to a dark place," Friedberg said. Though we still need to be realistic, we should "be optimistic about tomorrow, so that we're not all at each other's throats all the time."

I couldn't agree more. We need a different posture, one that's not naively positive, but more grounded, solutions-oriented and, dare I say, hopeful. 

Because hope actually does something. It's transformative.

Maybe this is a Gen Z analogy, but I can't help but think of a scene from The Hunger Games, when President Snow sits down with the gamemaker, Seneca Crane, and explains that he needs to curb hope to get the tributes submissive and keep society "in line" in this authoritarian, dystopian society. He explains that "hope is the only thing stronger than fear," and more hope across society would be catalyzing. 

There's so much truth to this. Hope motivates people to shape systems, build guardrails and demand better for all of us. Pessimism, meanwhile, festers into cynicism. And cynicism rarely leads to anything good or positive or worthy. 

And really, we're already strained. 

People are anxious, divided and quick to attack and pass judgment. AI discourse reflects this antagonism in a worrying way. In some circles, using AI tools and chatbots is seen as a moral failing, as if curiosity or excitement about it signals a lack of ethics, competence and integrity. You might be labeled a bad person for simply using the technology. That kind of framing shuts down any conversations and hardens people against one another. 

The "if you're not using AI, you will be left behind" camp is equally biting and unfair. We need, in general, to stop such binary thinking when it comes to AI. 

I'm not saying unease or critique isn't justified -- believe me, I know many fears are justified -- but when healthy skepticism turns into hostility or blanket condemnation of anyone who even slightly engages with the technology, the conversation shifts from constructive criticism to something reactionary and volatile. 

I think the key distinction is this: Optimism is not the same as blind acceptance. 

We can be hopeful, but we should also remain critical when AI is used for nefarious ends or in ways that don't serve us. You can be optimistic about a future with AI while still demanding regulation, transparency and an "opt-out" option. You can use generative chatbots and still be deeply mindful about their labor impacts, environmental costs, safety and risks. 

In fact, I think regular people, like you and me (not those financially invested in AI companies succeeding), who engage with AI will be the ones best positioned to speak up and fight for responsible use in the years to come. But to do that, we need to be open-minded. 

So, I'll ask this: Is it so bad to feel hopeful? Is it bad to find something fascinating about what's being built and what's to come? 

AI is here to stay. That doesn't mean we have to passively surrender to it, but we do have to decide how we'll confront it. Are we going to face it with fear alone or with a sense of cautious optimism? Are we going to crumble under a fatalistic sense of inevitable doom, or are we going to remember that we have agency to shape our futures?