My book was published on August 11, 2025.
A question that became urgent
At a time when artificial intelligence can compose music that moves us, assist doctors in analyzing complex illnesses, and write texts that sometimes seem born of human sensitivity, one question struck me head-on: what remains human when the machine can accomplish so much, except exist?
This question was not an abstraction. To me, it represented one of the great vertigos of our time. And it is what pushed me to write Le Souffle de la Machine.
A breath, a forest, an inner shift
This book was not born from a marketing concept or a technical analysis. It was born from silence. From a deep breath. From a transformative experience in a forest in Quebec’s Eastern Townships, during a retreat where I literally watched what I believed to be “me” dissolve.
I am an actor. I am always trying to act better. But that day, I stopped performing. I let the roles fall away. And a visceral question appeared in all its nakedness: beyond doing… what does it mean to be?
That recovered breath, that presence without a mask, shook me deeply. It reminded me that, in a world increasingly obsessed with performance, efficiency and production, our inner life remains a profoundly human territory.
The machine does. The human being is.
What I experienced that day became the thread running through Le Souffle de la Machine. A fault line between two dimensions: the machine’s spectacular doing and the elusive being of human consciousness.
Through its pages, I explore this contrast philosophically, technologically and existentially. I examine the achievements of AI not to reject them, but to better understand what they force us to question: subjectivity, intention, meaning, responsibility and consciousness.
Words without an author, emotions without a heart
I wrote this book because I saw confusion taking hold.
We can be moved by a poem generated by artificial intelligence while forgetting that there is no lived experience behind those words. The machine produces a form capable of stirring something in us, but it does not feel what it expresses.
We can also become attached to chatbots that reproduce the codes of empathy remarkably well. They can answer us, reassure us, and sometimes even help us put our thoughts in order. But the ability to reflect our emotions does not mean they experience them.
The machine can produce the illusion of a presence. It can imitate certain manifestations of creativity, emotion or reasoning. But it does not cry with joy. It does not dream. It does not know the fear of losing someone. And it does not carry conscious responsibility for its choices.
A manifesto for being
Le Souffle de la Machine is not an indictment of technology. It is a call.
A call not to let ourselves be hypnotized by the spectacle of doing. A reminder that consciousness, presence and responsibility should not be delegated simply because a technology can perform certain tasks faster or more efficiently than we can.
In the book, I share the example of a close friend, an entrepreneur who uses artificial intelligence to free up his time — but not to escape his life. He uses it to create, reflect and automate certain tasks so that he can be more present elsewhere.
This idea feels even more relevant to me today: technology can allow us to do more, but the real question remains what we choose to do with the time, attention and freedom it gives back to us.
Perhaps that is where a lucid coexistence becomes possible.
Why I wrote this book
I wrote Le Souffle de la Machine because I could no longer ignore this question.
Because the fascination I felt — and still feel — for artificial intelligence had to be confronted with the most intimate experience I had lived: breath, presence and being.
Because I believe our time needs more than technical solutions.
It needs presence.
Discernment.
Poetry.
Humanity.
And because, faced with a machine capable of accomplishing more and more, human beings still possess this fragile but inimitable art of being.
An invitation
Le Souffle de la Machine is now published and available.
It is not a manual. Nor is it an attempt to predict the future of artificial intelligence.
It is a conversation.
An invitation to think differently about our relationship with technology, to slow down enough to feel what is happening within us, and to become conscious again of what it means to live, here and now.
About me
I am an actor. What has always drawn me is not only the role to be played, but what it reveals. What lies behind gestures and words. I try to reach what animates us, what breathes behind appearances — that quiet breath we sometimes feel between two silences.
Over time, my artistic path broadened into a more inward quest. I explored regression hypnosis (QHHT), Reiki, Vipassana meditation, the Wim Hof Method, fasting and martial arts… not to search elsewhere, but to return to what is here. To that boundary between body and consciousness, between presence and perception.
Le Souffle de la Machine was born from an intimate upheaval. An experience of dissolution that profoundly transformed the way I see the world and situate myself as a human being.
This book does not seek to oppose technology. Instead, it asks an essential question: what remains of us when the machine can accomplish almost everything we once thought exclusively human, except experience existence itself?
It is an invitation to return to what lies behind performance and appearances: the consciousness that feels, the gaze that chooses, the responsibility that commits us — and the breath that connects.
