For 180 years, the fiery figure of Carmen has defied easy categorisation, captivating audiences with her spirit and tragic fate. We have been exploring her enduring legacy through a series of events marking the sesquicentennial of Georges Bizet’s opera. As the programme draws to a close, it leaves behind not just the echoes of the “Habanera”, but a powerful lesson on the irreplaceable value of human understanding in the dawning age of artificial intelligence.
When I designed this programme for our minor in European studies – with the support of the European Union Office in Hong Kong and Macao – its mission extended beyond musicology: to bring younger people closer to Europe.
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In a world where digital bubbles can foster isolationism, understanding another culture’s art, history and language is the most potent tool to eliminate the concept of the other. It is the foundation upon which mutual respect is built and the risk of conflict is diminished. This is not a soft skill; it is a vital strategy for living together.
This mission feels more urgent than ever with the advent of artificial intelligence (AI). As generative AI begins to automate technical tasks in fields like coding, law and finance, the value of a humanities education – the study of what makes us human – has surged. This new era is challenging the long-held assumption that STEM alone was a guaranteed ticket to a stable career. GenAI might be able to generate code, but it cannot yet provide the cultural context, ethical framework or critical discernment required to use that code wisely. This critical discernment, fostered by the humanities, is the core muscle that we can train by engaging with a complex, centuries-old story like Carmen.
Let me share with you a telling moment from our programme. Recently, we screened Vicente Aranda’s beautifully shot film, sponsored by the Spanish consulate. As the credits rolled on this tragic tale, a young student approached me, visibly moved. Their question – “Are there more films like this?” – was revealing. It was a stunned, complex, human reaction to encountering a work of profound artistic quality and emotional depth.
This encounter underscores a concerning gap. Younger generations, often fed on a diet of fragmented TikTok reels and algorithmic content, are sometimes deprived of deep cultural narrative. When they do encounter it, the effect is not boredom, but revelation. They are struck by the power of a story that doesn’t just aim to entertain for 15 seconds, but to challenge and resonate for 180 years.
Our events attracted a passionate public, but we noticed a stronger turnout from an older, perhaps more culturally seasoned generation. This is not a sign of youth disinterest, but a call to us – educators and institutions – to better bridge that gap and demonstrate the unparalleled value of this deep engagement.
This search for engagement was at the heart of a recent talk by Paola Tiberii, our speaker sponsored by the Italian Cultural Institute, who asked: “Who is Carmen?” Why is she still grabbing our hearts, 180 years on? Is Carmen a feminist icon or a tragic victim? A symbol of desire or freedom?
I believe Carmen is all of us, a reflection of the societies that we create at each epoch. Think how little things have changed, and how similar we all are, that a tale of domestic violence resonates with us in France, Spain, Italy and Hong Kong. Carmen’s story, set in Spain, written by a Frenchman and popularised through a medium first developed by the Italians – opera – is a quintessentially European tale that has transcended its origins to become a mirror for our own societies. It proves that art knows no borders, and that the most universal stories are those which speak to our shared, and often fraught, humanity. GenAI could perhaps compile every scholarly interpretation ever written, but it could not sit in a theatre and feel Carmen’s tragedy, and therefore it couldn’t lead the discussion on her meaning. That requires human intelligence, empathy and cultural literacy.
But the question remains: how do we bring such works into the classroom – and how do we pull students from their digital feeds toward this deeper engagement? The answer lies not in replacing their world, but in connecting it.
My approach is to make the old new again. In my own teaching, we might take a text like Carmen – or Dante’s exploration of justice, George Orwell’s dissection of surveillance or Mary Shelley’s questions of creation – and turn it into a workshop. I might ask students to retranslate a scene into their own vernacular, to reimagine a character’s motives within the context of their own lives or to physically re-enact a key moment through tableau or short role play. The goal is to build a bridge: from the past to the 21st-century smartphone, from a European perspective to a personal one.
The specific advice for drawing students out of their digital bubbles is to meet them where they are, then guide them elsewhere. You can begin by asking them to share a subject-related meme they’ve enjoyed – on literature, history, intercultural communication, language, whatever you teach – and then trace it back to its source. More often than not, that journey will be quite complex, opening space for reflection and discussion. This process – personal, creative, critical – is what ignites deep cognitive and emotional engagement.
Carmen’s death, Dante’s Hell or Shelley’s Frankenstein spark timeless discussions we must keep having. Our Carmen discussion was brought to its culmination with the final curtain call: “Carmen Wong”, a special adaptation in partnership with the French consulate. The performance was more than a fitting conclusion; it was a testament to the human creativity that technology can augment (you should have seen the backdrop!) but never replace, perfectly integrating Hong Kong’s spirit with Bizet’s timeless score.
As GenAI transforms the workplace, it is the humanists – the thinkers, the interpreters, the bridge-builders – who will be indispensable. They are the ones who will ensure that our technological future remains a human one.
Renia Lopez-Ozieblo is assistant dean of outreach and communication and assistant professor in the department of English and communication at The Hong Kong Polytechnic University.
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