"Mr. Chen Mo, don't you think it's a bit too early to talk about the concept of a future city?"
The question came from a Western elite in the audience—an executive from a major company.
Even after Chen Mo's speech concluded, the crowd hadn't calmed down. To many, the smart city he described still felt far away.
"Not early at all," Chen Mo replied, shaking his head. "Let me give you a sense of the timeline—within five years, if all goes smoothly, Binhai will become the prototype of a smart city."
He continued confidently, "The unified artificial intelligence platform is already emerging. Our company's 'Artificial Intelligence Plus' platform is designed as the city's smart core—covering urban management, transportation, buildings, appliances, offices, daily life. This is no longer the stuff of science fiction."
"Our headquarters and staff residential areas have already implemented this 'AI+' concept. It's currently being expanded across Binhai and potentially the whole of China."
"According to our data, after launching the smart traffic project in Binhai, the average pedestrian wait time at traffic lights dropped by 15 seconds. In a city with millions of residents, that's a significant improvement."
"Traffic congestion in Binhai has decreased by over 70% compared to the same period last year. Even during rush hours, major traffic jams are rare. With big data and AI analyzing urban road usage, infrastructure is optimized. Once autonomous vehicles become widespread, the smart city foundation will be fully established. And that day isn't far off."
His words stirred a murmur among the audience.
Chen Mo pointed to another raised hand.
"Mr. Chen Mo, people like Gates and Musk, and many AI experts, have expressed concern that artificial intelligence could eventually pose a threat to humanity. How can you be so sure it won't? In building smart cities, aren't you afraid AI might one day control or even destroy humans?"
Chen Mo smiled slightly. This wasn't the first time he'd been asked this.
"Why am I more confident than them?" he said calmly. "Because I'm more professional than they are. Simply put, our company leads the world in AI development—and I'm the one who understands AI the most."
"Will AI become a threat to humanity? It's possible, but extremely unlikely. Many things could end humanity—mutated viruses, asteroid impacts, nuclear war, climate collapse, cosmic radiation, even rogue stars."
"Yes, AI could become a threat, but the probability is about the same as the end of the world. Let's be clear—no one is handing nuclear weapons over to AI. Sci-fi movies are misleading."
"Whether AI becomes a crisis or not is entirely up to humans. At its core, AI is just a tool—a powerful one."
"Throughout history, humans invented tools to conquer nature and survive—stones, swords, guns. Did those destroy humanity? No. It's human greed and madness that lead to destruction, not the tools themselves."
"If a car goes out of control or a gun misfires, we fix it—we don't ban all cars or guns. The same logic applies to AI."
"The Hollywood version of AI, where robots wipe out humans, has a probability about as high as all the nuclear bombs on Earth detonating at once. Future space exploration and interstellar travel will rely heavily on AI. Humanity's weak physical form can't handle the challenges of the stars without it. Worry less about AI wiping out humanity, and more about whether it'll replace your job. That's a much more realistic concern."
His analogy drew a round of applause. It was sharp and persuasive—hard to refute.
Soon, another attendee stood and took the microphone.
"Mr. Chen Mo, as far as I know, you're the first from Huaxia to win the Nobel Prize in Physics. Why has your country won so few natural science awards? Doesn't that suggest your education system and technology are lagging behind?"
The question, laced with condescension, made the room fall silent. Chen Mo's eyes narrowed, but his expression remained calm.
"Actually, that's a question I've been meaning to ask myself," he replied directly. "Let me ask all of you—why has China won so few Nobel Prizes? Is it really because of a backward education system or lack of technological development?"
He shook his head.
"If Huaxia's education were backward, how did China rise to the forefront of global technology and economy in just over 40 years? How is it that we've become leaders in several cutting-edge fields? You call that the result of backward education?"
"Anyone claiming Chinese education is backward clearly doesn't understand China—they're like frogs at the bottom of a well."
His words, translated in real time, echoed through the hall. The person who asked the question flushed red, sensing the judgmental stares from all around. He suddenly felt like a clown under a spotlight.
Chen Mo ignored him and pressed on.
"As for the lack of Nobel Prizes—have you ever stopped to consider why?"
The crowd grew quiet again, thoughtful.
"First, think of science and technology as a tree. Education and economy are its roots. Scientific progress forms its branches and leaves. The Nobel Prize? Just a few particularly sweet fruits from the entire tree. Would you judge the health of the whole tree based only on how many sweet fruits it has?"
Many in the audience nodded. Applause followed.
"Let's be honest—the Nobel Prize is prestigious, yes, but it doesn't represent all of a country's scientific achievement. Sweden and Switzerland have more Nobel wins than Russia—but would anyone claim their tech is more advanced than Russia's or China's? Of course not."
"And during the Cold War, the Soviet Union's science was ahead of the U.S. in many areas—yet it received zero Nobel Prizes in natural science during that time. Why? Politics. The data is clear—when Russia's relations with the West improved, the awards returned."
"They say science knows no borders, but scientists do. And when there are no Chinese members on the Nobel Committee, how can we expect truly fair representation?"
"This bias isn't new. It's been there for decades."
He paused briefly.
"Second, today's top technologies aren't developed by lone geniuses. They're created by massive teams. Yet the Nobel Prize can only be awarded to a maximum of three people."
"For example, when Huaxia synthesized insulin, we didn't even apply for the Nobel Prize—our team had more than a dozen contributors. It would've been unacceptable to recognize only two or three people."
"In modern China, most high-level research is team-based. It's rare for an individual to independently lead global breakthroughs. I'm an exception—not the rule. You can't use my case to evaluate all of China's scientific strength or its education system. That would be ignorant."
There was one final reason he didn't voice out loud.
The most advanced technologies in China—unless they're purely theoretical—are rarely published in papers. National security concerns prevent public disclosure. Leaking through journals is a real threat.
Most of the top R&D teams in China are government-affiliated. They're not chasing Nobel Prizes—they're focused on safeguarding and developing national capabilities.
Back in the room, the silence was telling. More than a few scholars nodded in quiet agreement.
They all understood—while the Nobel Prize is a symbol of recognition, it doesn't encompass the full spectrum of human innovation. Many of the world's most transformative technologies—nuclear fusion, quantum computing, AI, satellites, lasers—are created by teams. They rarely show up at Nobel ceremonies.
Even Einstein's theory of relativity didn't win a Nobel. And Stephen Hawking—one of the greatest minds of our time—never received one either.