Artificial intelligence has moved from the margins of public life to its center with remarkable speed. Systems that once belonged to laboratories and specialist communities now write, translate, explain, recommend, diagnose, design, and persuade. They appear in classrooms, offices, hospitals, media platforms, and homes. They speak in human language. They produce images and ideas that feel familiar, even personal. For many people, AI is no longer a distant technology. It is something encountered daily. And yet, despite this proximity, understanding remains elusive. Public discussion of AI tends to polarize. On one side are narratives of unprecedented progress: machines that will revolutionize productivity, cure disease, personalize education, and unlock new forms of creativity. On the other side are narratives of danger: mass unemployment, loss of control, erosion of truth, even existential catastrophe. Both sides speak with confidence. Both sides promise clarity. And both, in different ways, oversimplify. What often gets lost is the space in between-the space where careful judgment, ethical responsibility, and lived human experience reside. This book is written for that space. Twenty Questions About AI does not begin from the assumption that artificial intelligence must be celebrated or feared. It begins from the recognition that AI is a powerful, ambiguous, and deeply human project: built by people, trained on human data, deployed within human institutions, and entangled with human values. To understand AI, we must therefore understand not only what machines can do, but how they are situated within social, economic, and moral life. Rather than offering a single theory or forecast, this book is structured around questions. Questions slow us down. They resist inevitability. They allow us to distinguish what is real from what is imagined, what is possible from what is likely, and what is technically feasible from what is ethically desirable. In a world saturated with confident answers-many of them generated by machines themselves-questions are a form of discipline. The twenty questions in this book range from the technical to the philosophical. They ask how modern AI systems actually work, what makes generative AI feel different, and where the limits of current systems lie. They examine the promises and the hype, the genuine benefits and the exaggerated claims. They explore how AI affects work, education, inequality, trust, and creativity. And they confront deeper concerns about power, governance, human identity, and the future we are implicitly choosing through today's decisions. This book assumes no technical background. When technical ideas are introduced, they are explained in plain language, with emphasis on intuition rather than formalism. At the same time, the book does not avoid complexity. It treats readers as capable of holding nuance, uncertainty, and tension-because those are precisely the conditions under which responsible judgment must operate. Above all, this book insists on one central idea: AI does not remove the need for human judgment. It intensifies it. Machines can process information at unprecedented scale. They can predict, generate, and optimize. But they do not decide what matters. They do not bear responsibility. They do not live with consequences. Those remain human tasks. To ask questions about artificial intelligence, then, is ultimately to ask questions about ourselves: about how we want to work, learn, create, govern, and live together in a world increasingly shaped by artificial systems. This book begins not with answers, but with an invitation-to think carefully, to question honestly, and to remain human in the presence of powerful machines.