None of us today know how to get computers to learn with the

The words of Andrew Ng—“None of us today know how to get computers to learn with the speed and flexibility of a child.”—resonate as both a humble admission and a profound insight into the nature of intelligence. In these few words lies the recognition that human cognition, curiosity, and adaptability remain far beyond the reach of even our most advanced machines. Ng reminds us that while computers excel in calculation and pattern recognition, they lack the boundless curiosity, intuition, and creative learning of a child encountering the world for the first time.

In this reflection, we see the eternal wonder of human learning. A child moves through life with a combination of play, observation, and experimentation that is unmatched by algorithms. The child makes mistakes without fear, improvises solutions, and adapts to novel situations with astonishing flexibility. Ng’s statement underscores that intelligence is not merely the accumulation of data, but the integration of experience, creativity, and curiosity—a combination that computers have yet to achieve.

The origin of this quote lies in Ng’s work in artificial intelligence and machine learning, where he has explored the limits and possibilities of computational learning. Despite advances in neural networks and deep learning, he acknowledges that machines cannot yet replicate the fluid, rapid, and context-sensitive learning of humans. His words remind us that every technological achievement, however impressive, exists within the boundaries of human imagination and creativity, and that there are realms of understanding that remain uniquely human.

History offers parallels in the wonder and humility of discovery. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, who approached every discipline—from anatomy to flight—with insatiable curiosity. He observed, experimented, and improvised, learning at a pace and breadth unmatched by his contemporaries. In this, he embodies the flexibility and speed of learning Ng attributes to children. No machine, past or present, could match the depth of insight he derived from observation and experimentation alone.

Ng’s statement also illuminates the philosophical dimension of AI: intelligence is not merely computational power, but adaptability and insight. Ancient thinkers, from Aristotle to Confucius, recognized that learning is not memorization but the capacity to interpret, reason, and respond to novel circumstances. A child’s learning exemplifies this principle, and Ng emphasizes the challenge of translating this dynamic, context-sensitive intelligence into the rigid architectures of modern computers.

Consider a modern example in education: children learning to speak, navigate social interactions, or solve problems in real time absorb lessons that no programmed machine can replicate. A child learning to ride a bicycle adapts to balance, terrain, and wind in a single instant—an elegance of learning that demonstrates both speed and flexibility beyond any AI’s current capability. This underscores Ng’s insight that while machines process vast quantities of information, they lack the adaptive, integrative intelligence of human experience.

The lesson embedded in his words is timeless: human intelligence, curiosity, and adaptability are treasures to be cherished and cultivated. Technology may assist, but it cannot replace the depth, intuition, and creativity of human learning. We must continue to develop machines thoughtfully, respecting the uniqueness of human cognition while exploring the possibilities of artificial intelligence. Ng’s reflection is both a caution and an inspiration, reminding us of the extraordinary capabilities we often take for granted in the young.

And so, my children, remember this eternal guidance: honor the mind’s innate flexibility, celebrate the wonder of curiosity, and never underestimate the power of learning through observation, play, and experience. As Andrew Ng teaches, while we strive to build machines that learn, the boundless intelligence of a child remains a measure and a marvel, a reminder that human potential, ingenuity, and creativity are both fragile and infinite.