When AI Can't Tell Us Apart, Who Pays the Price?

I ran a simple experiment. I uploaded the same photo of singer Durand Bernarr into three different AI apps and asked each one to identify him (because I'm old and I didn't know who dude was on the awards show I was watching).

The results?

One confidently said Usher. Another insisted it was Lucky Daye. The third... well, it found another random Black man that wasn't even close.

Three guesses. Three wrong answers. Three completely different people.

If AI can't correctly identify a Grammy-nominated artist whose photos are all over the internet, why should anyone trust it to identify the average citizen standing in front of a camera?

Courtesy of 2026 BET Awards

Now let's talk about the elephant mounted on every telephone pole.

Flock cameras.

They're popping up everywhere. Neighborhoods. Shopping centers. Apartment complexes. Highways. The sales pitch sounds great: safer communities through smarter technology.

Who doesn't want safer neighborhoods?

But there's one question that doesn't get asked nearly enough.

What happens when the technology gets it wrong?

History has already shown that facial recognition technology has often performed worse on people with darker skin tones than on white faces. Researchers have documented those disparities for years. While many systems have improved, they're not perfect, and not every company uses the same technology or the same standards.

That matters.

Because if an AI system mistakes one Black man for another, the consequences aren't just an embarrassing error message.

• Someone gets questioned.
• Someone gets detained.
• Someone has to prove they weren't where the computer claims they were.

And once suspicion enters the room, it doesn't always leave just because the facts finally show up.

My little experiment wasn't a scientific study. It was simply a reminder that confidence isn't the same thing as accuracy. The AI didn't hesitate. It answered as if it knew exactly who it was looking at.

It didn't.

That's what concerns me most.

Computers don't have to be malicious to cause harm. They just have to be wrong often enough in situations where being wrong carries serious consequences.

We're racing to install cameras everywhere while assuming the software behind them deserves our trust.

Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn't.

But shouldn't we demand proof before allowing algorithms to help identify suspects?

Technology should assist investigations, not replace common sense.

If AI can confidently mistake Durand Bernarr for Usher, who's to say it won't confidently mistake your neighbor for someone wanted three counties away?

The danger isn't that AI makes mistakes. People do that every day.

The danger is that people often believe a computer simply because it's a computer.

And that's exactly when common sense needs to be louder than artificial intelligence.

Stop Recording. Start Running.

Every time I scroll through social media, I see another fight. 

Not an argument. Not a shouting match. A fight.

And almost every time, the video starts the same way. Someone pulls out a phone. Then another person pulls out a phone. Then five more people pull out phones.

Before long, you've got a crowd of amateur cinematographers standing three feet away from two people throwing punches as if they're covering a heavyweight championship fight for ESPN.

Then it happens.

A gun appears.

The crowd scatters.

The video cuts off.

And somewhere in the comments, people are writing "I can't believe this happened."

Really? Because I can.

What I can't believe is how we've somehow taught an entire generation that the first response to danger is to hit Record instead of running.

I remember being in shady nightclubs as a 20-something and if a fight broke out, your survival instincts kicked in. You got away from the situation. You didn't move closer to get a better look. You didn't stand around hoping to capture the perfect punch. You certainly didn't stay long enough to find out whether somebody had a weapon. 

You left.

Because common sense told you that if two people are willing to fight in public, there's no telling what happens next. 

And there were numerous times my homies and I felt the vibe of the place shift and got out of there before the fight even started. If we saw two guys posturing up and planting that back foot, we knew a punch was going to be thrown soon. Or the tell-tell sign of trouble was someone walking out of the club after a disagreement (because you knew that he was going to his vehicle to retrieve a weapon).

Today's social media culture has flipped that instinct upside down. Everything is content. Every moment is an opportunity for views.

The problem is that real life isn't content. Real life has consequences. A fistfight can become a shooting in seconds. A crowd can become a crime scene in seconds.

And the people filming often become victims simply because they stayed around longer than they should have.

What's especially troubling is that many young people have never been taught a simple rule:

If violence starts, create distance.

Immediately.

Not after you get a few seconds of footage. Not after you post it to your story. Not after you see who wins.

Immediately.

Schools spend time teaching fire drills. They teach lockdown drills. They teach severe weather procedures. Maybe we also need to teach situational awareness. Maybe we need to teach kids that their phone is not more important than their safety. Maybe we need to teach them that nobody has ever regretted leaving a dangerous situation too early.

Every tragic video that circulates online carries the same silent lesson. Most people watching the footage are focused on what happened during the fight.

I'm focused on the people standing around it. Because many of them had a chance to leave. Not because they were trapped but because they were filming.

I'm not suggesting that recording incidents never has value. There are situations where documentation matters. But a random fight in a parking lot, school hallway, gas station, or street corner isn't a documentary project.

Your first responsibility is your own safety. The phone can wait. The likes can wait. The views can wait.

Your life can't.

Parents, please teach your children this.

The Cost to Relationships and Families

This is part five of a five-part series entitled "The Silent Collapse of Men in the Smart Phone Era". It's based on a series of discussions I've had with men who are friends or relatives. The men's ages range from 23 - 51 years old. I'd love your feedback.

The Cost to Relationships and Families

A distracted man may still physically be present while emotionally disappearing.

He comes home but never fully arrives.
He sits with his kids while staring at another man’s podcast clip.
He lies next to his wife while scrolling through strangers.
He loses interest in conversation because his brain now expects constant stimulation every eight seconds.

Over time, resentment grows on both sides.

The family notices. Children notice. Partners notice.

The phone quietly becomes the third person in every relationship.

Men Need Purpose More Than Distraction

Most men do not need another motivational clip.

They need:

• sleep
• discipline
• friendship
• purpose
• physical activity
• real conversation
• time away from screens
• connection with their families

The solution is not becoming anti-technology. Phones are tools. The problem begins when the tool starts shaping a man’s identity, emotions, confidence, and attention span. A phone should assist a man’s life, not replace it. 

Right now, too many men are slowly disappearing into distraction while calling it entertainment. We have to stop making excuses and help each other focus on what's important. We have to hold each other accountable and allow entertainment to be entertainment and real life to be real life.

We can't blend the two.

Part 4: Rage Is Becoming Entertainment