Talal Abu-Ghazaleh

AI systems are now able interact with us in the native fluency of almost any language, yet beneath this multilingual surface lies a single dominant worldview. While the fluency is certainly impressive, it is not a true understanding and rather a linguistic performance built on foundations that are overwhelmingly shaped by English language data, as much of it produced in the US. Recent research by Indonesian researchers on AI shows that while users may converse with it in their local language, the advice given reflects American cultural assumptions that prioritize individual autonomy, direct confrontation, and personal boundaries over the consensus building and social harmony that define Indonesian life. It seem that while the language is local, the logic is distinctly foreign.
This illusion of cultural alignment is one of the most dangerous misconceptions surrounding AI today. They are trained on datasets where English dominates to an extraordinary degree, nearly 90% in the case of certain AI models, while Arabic, despite being one of the world’s major languages, accounts for less than 1% of the data used to train many models. Even when these systems respond in another language, studies show they often conduct their internal reasoning in English before translating the output back into the user’s language. The result is a subtle but persistent form of cultural influence. The worldview of the training data remains intact, even when the words appear to belong to someone else.
The consequences become clear when AI is asked to interpret culturally specific concepts. In the Arab context, concepts such as ‘tarbiya’, which refers to the holistic moral, social, and spiritual cultivation of a child within the family and community, are often reduced by Western trained AI systems to simple parenting techniques or discipline strategies. The AI transforms culturally embedded social values into Western psychological categories that emphasize personal autonomy and individual emotion rather than collective identity and social obligation. Its apparent fluency hides its inability to grasp the social fabric that gives these concepts meaning, as it has not been trained on them.
What makes this especially concerning is that the bias arrives disguised as empathy. When AI speaks to you in your own language, with warmth and attentiveness, you assume it understands your world. You assume its advice is grounded in your values. Yet the worldview embedded in these systems is structurally Western because the infrastructure, data, and economic incentives behind them are Western. This is the predictable outcome of who builds the systems and whose knowledge dominates the digital sphere. The effect, however, is profound. AI becomes a quiet force of cultural normalization that shapes how people think about family, education, responsibility, and identity.
China recognized this risk early and chose a different path. It built its own AI ecosystem, including models such as DeepSeek and Qwen, which reflect Chinese cultural logic rather than American norms. When asked about workplace conflict, Chinese models recommend indirect communication and harmony preserving strategies that align with Chinese social values, rather than the direct confrontation favored by Western models. This is not only technological independence. It is cultural sovereignty. Other regions are attempting similar efforts, but many of these rely on Western models as their foundation. They add local vocabulary, yet the underlying logic remains Western. It is similar to repainting a house while the foundation still belongs to someone else.
For the Arab world, this moment is decisive. If we rely on Western AI systems, we will inherit Western assumptions about what is right, normal, or desirable. Our children will receive guidance shaped by values that may not reflect our own. AI is no longer just a tool. It is becoming a teacher, a counselor, a mediator, and soon, a decision maker. If its worldview is not ours, then our future will not be ours.
When I reflect on my earlier roles, whether building TAG.Global from the ground up or advising the highest ranks of global government, I am reminded of the simple truth that if we do not create our own systems, others will define our reality for us. I learned early in my career that sovereignty is built and not granted, and in the age of AI, cultural sovereignty is as vital as economic or political independence. We cannot afford to let our identity be translated for us by systems that were never trained on our history, culture or values.
Democratizing AI does not mean giving everyone access to the same Western built systems. It means that we move our best foot forward, empowering nations and cultures to build models that reflect their own intellectual traditions, social structures, and aspirations. For the Arab world, this requires more than adding Arabic vocabulary to foreign models. It demands Arab owned datasets, Arab designed architectures, Arab governed AI institutions, and Arab digital infrastructure. It requires a unified regional strategy that treats AI as a pillar of sovereignty, as essential as energy, education, or national security.