In the 1990s, when the internet was still an experimental novelty for most people, the simple act of using it had enormous symbolic value. At the time, I was pursuing an MBA in marketing at one of Latin America's most prestigious business schools, and I vividly remember the enthusiasm (almost naive, yet profoundly significant) that accompanied any reference to the use of the web in academic works. It wasn't just about accessing new information; it was, above all, a gesture of modernity, intellectual boldness, and alignment with a future that was just taking shape.
Bourdieu, Myspace and Facebook
Thus, PowerPoint presentations, limited and rudimentary, took on a special charm when someone managed to insert a screenshot of a website. And when, occasionally, the connection allowed a page to be opened in real time in front of the class, that became a small event. Wow, how cool!! In short, using the Internet wasn't just using a tool, but a demonstration of competence, updating, and vision. It was, to use Pierre Bourdieu 's term , a sort of marker of distinction or a sign of emerging cultural capital.
The same enthusiasm was repeated in the early 2000s with social networks: first curiosity, then fascination, and finally ubiquity. Creating a profile on MySpace , Orkut , or, later, Facebook was perceived as a gesture of integration into the new digital ecosystem. Technology was celebrated as an expansion of possibilities, not as a threat to authenticity.
And it is precisely for this reason that the current scenario (marked by embarrassment in declaring the use of artificial intelligence tools) reveals a rather profound cultural paradox. While in the 1990s and 2000s, adopting new technologies was a source of prestige, today, in many academic and professional contexts, using AI is often treated as something to be hidden, downplayed, or justified. Therefore, the transition between these two moments is not only technological but also sociological.
The phenomenon of AI shaming
That said, the phenomenon known as AI shaming (or the reluctance to publicly admit to using AI, even when such use is ethical and legitimate, as explained by Louie Giray ) originates precisely here. It stems not from the technology itself, but from the social norms that regulate what we consider "real work," "authentic effort," and "real competence." That is, as Erving Goffman would say , it is a process of impression management where people fear that, by disclosing their use of AI, their public image will be interpreted as less competent, less original, or less "authentic."
And this shift in perception (from the pride of the 1990s to today's embarrassment) is far from trivial. Indeed, it reveals that technologies are not just tools, but moral objects, as Neil Postman argues. They bring with them expectations, fears, anxieties, and judgments. And, as Sherry Turkle shows, the more intimate a technology becomes, the more it generates tensions related to identity, autonomy, and self-definition.
AI, therefore, occupies a particularly sensitive place in this framework. Unlike the Internet or social networks (which expanded access and connectivity without directly intervening in the process of intellectual production), AI touches the heart of what many societies consider the highest expression of the individual: the ability to think, create, write, and solve problems. And for this reason, its use is moralized. It's not just about "using a tool," but about "how one should work."
Sennet, Becker, and AI shaming
Furthermore, Richard Sennett , reflecting on the modern work ethic, shows how the value of effort is deeply rooted in cultures that associate merit with individual sacrifice. In academic and professional contexts, this logic is even stronger, because the idea that a machine can reduce the time or difficulty of a task threatens not only processes, but identities. AI shaming thus emerges as a kind of symbolic defense mechanism or a way to protect the boundary between "legitimate work" and "shortcuts."
Furthermore, Howard Becker, analyzing labeling processes, helps us understand another aspect of the phenomenon: the fear of being labeled as someone who "didn't do it themselves," "lacks mastery of their discipline," or "is too dependent on technology." Thus, the embarrassment isn't about the use of AI, but about the possibility of being labeled as not conforming to normative expectations of competence.
The investigation in the journal Nature
And this tension between cultural norms, expectations of competence, and fear of judgment isn't just theoretical. It's also clearly evident in empirical data. A survey conducted by the journal Nature in 2025, with 5.229 participants across several countries, shows that researchers themselves are deeply divided on what they consider appropriate practices in the use of AI. Although most consider it acceptable to use chatbots to assist with manuscript preparation, few report doing so, and among those who do, many say they don't disclose this practice.
The survey also revealed that over 90% of participants consider it legitimate to use generative AI to edit or translate scientific articles. However, strong disagreements emerged regarding the need to declare such use and the format of the declaration: from a simple note to a request to specify the commands provided to the tool. These data show that AI shaming is not just a widespread cultural phenomenon, but a concrete reality that affects the scientific community itself.
This ambivalence between actual use and fear of judgment also emerges in qualitative studies. A seminal study conducted by Louie Giray in 2024 showed that many academics fear being perceived as lazy, dishonest, or less rigorous if they admit to using tools like ChatGPT. According to the author, there are nine main reasons why people don't disclose their use of AI, fueling the phenomenon of "AI shame." These include questioning authenticity, moral judgment, personal attacks, resistance to change, power dynamics, fear of replacement, gatekeeping , poor understanding of AI, and generational divides.
Shaming as a structured social mechanism
These elements show that AI shaming is not simply a widespread discomfort, but a structured social mechanism, supported by cultural norms and deep anxieties related to merit, competence, and professional identity.
The paradox is that, while many avoid admitting the use of AI, these technologies are already deeply integrated into everyday life. Search engines, spam filters, text editors, grammar checkers, recommendation platforms, and so on, all use AI invisibly. Those who claim they "don't use AI" are already using it, unknowingly . AI shaming , therefore, is not a reaction to the use of the technology, but to the visibility of that use. What is stigmatized is not the practice, but the admission.
This contradiction reveals a crucial point: AI shaming is a transitional phenomenon. Just as the internet has gone from novelty to infrastructure, and social networks from curiosity to environment, sooner or later, AI too will cease to be a taboo and become a natural part of the repertoire of skills. The question is not if it will happen, but when and under what cultural conditions.
Recognizing AI Shaming
Therefore, recognizing AI shaming as a social phenomenon is the first step toward overcoming it. Acknowledging the use of AI does not diminish the value of human labor; on the contrary, it allows for a more honest discussion on how to integrate these tools ethically, transparently, and productively. Shame is a symptom, not a solution. And, like any social symptom, it points to much deeper tensions about authorship, merit, authenticity, and the future of intellectual labor.
If in the 1990s, the pride of using the Internet symbolized openness to innovation, perhaps today the challenge is to recapture that spirit, not to uncritically accept any technology, but to understand that tools do not define the value of work. What defines it is how we use them, the questions we ask, the responsibility we assume, and the ability to critically reflect on the world we are helping to build.
AI doesn't eliminate the need for human thought; it makes it even more urgent. And perhaps the true antidote to AI shaming is precisely this recognition that, rather than threatening our autonomy, AI forces us to rethink what it means to create, learn, and work in a society where technology is no longer novel, but a condition.
