One Technical Lens Is Not Enough: The Phoropter and the Boat

Suzanne Currie is an anthropologist who has spent roughly eight years inside AI and most recently led AI and UX research at Geico. Her Nivan Live session offered two metaphors and a set of lenses for a specific problem: the technical worldview inside AI teams was inherited rather than chosen, it operates quietly beneath every design decision, and on its own it cannot steer.

Suzanne Currie at Nivan 2026

Fifty years of a company getting closer to us

Suzanne opened with Apple's fiftieth anniversary and a deliberately generous reading of it. Across five decades and without AI on board, a series of products moved steadily closer to the shape of human life, from personal mapping and location to a retail store that functioned as a human interface where you walk in and are met where you are. Her argument was that Apple was using the lenses she describes without ever naming them.

The bargain that was actually struck

She then named the exchange honestly. For fifty years the offer was to give attention, data and dependency in return for a life that feels more like you. That is not a condemnation, it is a description, and it sets up the question she really wants asked about the systems being designed now.

Context maximalism and the risk inside it

AI offers effectively infinite contextual variability. Suzanne calls the resulting condition context maximalism and treats it as both a gift and a set of problems. Variability without orientation is not richness, it is drift. The question becomes how much of that variability to control, and whether the control is exercised for an individual, a group or an entire population.

Why the technical lens cannot be the whole vessel

In AI work she consistently sees technical debt consuming the capacity that ambitious goals require, and she has experienced never quite escaping it long enough to do something profound. Her formulation is generous to engineering and firm about its limits. The technical lens is the hull of the boat. It is excellent at being a hull. It is not the mast and it is not the sail.

The stakes are no longer app sized

The frame has not kept pace with the change, and the systems in question are not applications. They determine who receives care, who is identified as needing help, who is extended credit, who has a voice and what the future looks like for them. A worldview operating quietly beneath every design decision is carrying assumptions into all of that.

The phoropter as headdress

The first metaphor is the device an optometrist uses to rotate lenses until vision comes into focus. Suzanne proposes it as a piece of equipment for a team, something to wear rather than to reference. The point of the device is not any single lens but the sequence, and the fact that focus is achieved by comparison rather than by conviction.

The six lenses of the present

The set she has arrived at is ecological, what we are part of. Cultural, where we come from. Economic or material, what life affords us. Emotional, what we feel. Somatic, what lives below thought in the body. Relational, who we are in relation to others. She began with four and now works with six, treating the technical lens as the past and something more than human as the direction of travel.

The lenses as design material

This is the most immediately practical part of the session. Suzanne uses the lenses inside her own workflow, taking research notes from a set of events and writing a prompt that asks the model to surface insights specifically through each lens. The output balances the technical view precisely because the technical view is so strong by default. The lenses become a design material rather than a philosophical position.

The boat, the mast and the sails

The second metaphor assembles the argument. The hull is the technical layer. The mast is the social contract of the system, which teams rarely name and almost never make explicit. The sails are the six lenses. Together they steer the hull towards what she describes without embarrassment as human flourishing, which she considers worth stating out loud as a goal.

Reading the constellation, not a single star

For discovery and strategy work she suggests treating the phoropter as a sextant instead. Sailors did not navigate by one star, they read the whole sky and fixed a position by holding several points of light in relation to one another. That is what a set of lenses does. It is also a fair description of why single metric decision making fails in conditions this unstable.

Experiential fidelity as the target

Suzanne's term for the goal is experiential fidelity, the point at which the system matches the actual texture of human experience rather than a fragmented, decontextualised version of it. She was honest that we are not there. Her claim is that this is the first generation of technology where the possibility is real, which makes it worth deliberately aiming at.

Three things to do next

She closed with actions rather than theory. Name the social contract implicitly present in your system and make it explicit before scoping anything. Treat the eight lenses as design materials, including inside your AI prompts, and see what surfaces. Then measure success by the world the system helps create, asking whether it increases human dignity, trust and the capacity to flourish.

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