[Below Is an Adapted Transcript of a Ta

Wesley Auttrey was about to take a routine train with his two daughters. All of a sudden, a fellow passenger -- a stranger -- goes into a seizure and falls down on the tracks. Wesley notices that a train is coming and the man’s tremors won’t allow him to climb back up. So he jumps on the tracks, pins him down and lies on top of him as the subway train crosses over him. Before the train conductor realizes this, all but two bogeys had already crossed over the fallen man and Wesley. The hat on Wesley’s head had grease on it.

Wesley’s intelligence isn’t predictable. He had two daughters with him, at that very train station, and he was still willing to sacrifice his own life for a complete stranger on the tracks. That is not a result of something that is formulaic, but rather a moment of beauty that emerges from a complex set of interconnections in his inner ecology. How do we learn to honor that deep intelligence that is already native in all of us? How do we learn to marry it with the awesome computing power, the ginormous big data, and the sophisticated algorithms that are now available to us? Most importantly, how do we make sure that we lead with this kind of love? How do we make sure that instead of trying to dominate nature, we're actually in concert with its emergence?

I think that's the invitation -- to hold all these questions, and craft a new narrative.

In the end, if we ever get stuck between choice A B C or D, I hope our algorithms always point us to love.