The big AI dreams of making machines that could someday evolve to

When Andrew Ng said, “The big AI dreams of making machines that could someday evolve to do intelligent things like humans could — I was turned off by that. I didn’t really think that was feasible when I first joined Stanford,” he was voicing the humility of a true seeker — one who gazes upon the horizon of possibility and chooses first to understand what is, before reaching for what might be. His words are not born of cynicism, but of clarity, for he recognized that before humanity could build minds in silicon, it must first learn to comprehend intelligence itself. In this reflection lies a truth as old as discovery: that wisdom begins not in unbounded ambition, but in disciplined doubt.

The origin of this quote lies in the early days of artificial intelligence research — an era defined by both grandeur and disillusionment. In the mid-20th century, scientists dreamed that machines might soon think, reason, and feel as humans do. They built the first algorithms, taught computers to play games, and imagined a future filled with sentient machines. But the dream, though noble, was premature. Computing power was limited, understanding of the human brain incomplete, and the mathematics of learning still in infancy. When Andrew Ng entered Stanford, he saw that chasing the fantasy of human-like consciousness in machines was not the path forward; the foundation was not yet laid. His skepticism was not the rejection of vision, but the discipline of realism — the recognition that great mountains must be climbed one step at a time.

In the style of the ancients, his words echo the wisdom of Daedalus, the craftsman of Greek myth who warned his son Icarus not to fly too close to the sun. The dream of flight was noble, but untempered ambition burned the wings that carried it. Likewise, Ng understood that the dream of artificial minds could consume itself if not grounded in patience and method. Rather than chasing the illusion of human-like consciousness, he sought instead to build tools of understanding — practical systems that could perceive, learn, and assist humanity. Through this humility, he helped shape the very world he once doubted was possible. Thus, what began as realism became the foundation of revolution.

For it was Andrew Ng’s work in machine learning, deep neural networks, and >practical intelligence — machines that could recognize speech, see images, and make predictions — he helped turn the impossible into the inevitable. His story teaches that true visionaries are not those who dream beyond limits, but those who build within them until the limits themselves move. The ancients would have called this the wisdom of the craftsman: to know the weight of stone, the resistance of bronze, the pace of progress. Through this discipline, Ng became one of the architects of the very dream he once doubted.

And yet, there is beauty in his initial disbelief. For it shows that even the greatest builders begin not with certainty, but with questions. When he says he was “turned off” by the grand AI dreams, he reminds us that skepticism is not the enemy of creativity — it is its guardian. Blind belief can lead to ruin, but measured curiosity leads to progress. In the halls of Stanford, Ng chose not to chase visions of robotic souls, but to study the quiet patterns that make intelligence possible. He planted seeds in the soil of data and learning, and from them grew the forests of modern AI. Thus, what began as doubt became destiny.

His journey mirrors that of many who have transformed the world — the scientists, philosophers, and inventors who first resisted the allure of grandeur and instead built piece by piece. When Galileo turned his telescope to the heavens, he did not dream of understanding all creation in one glance; he simply wished to see more clearly. When Isaac Newton pondered gravity, he did not aim to master the cosmos, but to understand why an apple fell. In their patience, as in Ng’s, the universe revealed itself — not through flashes of divine revelation, but through the steady unfolding of truth.

The lesson, then, is this: dream greatly, but build wisely. Let not the fire of ambition blind you to the steps that must be taken to reach the summit. For dreams without structure are like castles in mist — beautiful to behold, but gone with the first wind. Yet when vision is joined with patience, and passion with craft, the impossible becomes attainable. Andrew Ng’s humility at the beginning of his journey was not weakness, but strength — the strength to see what must be done before chasing what might be. So to all who seek to change the world: let your doubt refine you, your discipline shape you, and your dream — once tempered by wisdom — shall one day outshine even your disbelief.