The moment the word time is mentioned, we tend to think of ourselves. As heirs of the 19th century, we are trained to equate time with history. We learned to understand ourselves—as individuals, as a culture, as a species—in and from context. As children of the 20th century, we came to know that locating oneself within world-historical dimensions is not only an interesting perspective, but a temptation—one that fatally misleads precisely that human capacity which cannot afford confusion: the faculty of judgment. To live in the context of world history is to move across glittering—and, above all, thin—ice. As adults in the 21st century, we learn each day what it means to stand upon the unstable ground of the past—without breaking through. It is not surprising that many still consider paralysis to be the safest possible stance. If the 20th century seemed marked by a failure of the will, today it is judgment itself that we have come to mistrust. But human beings do not judge because they will to judge. We judge because we must—and do so inevitably, whether we will it or not. Strikingly, it is precisely that intelligence we call artificial that now reminds us: time is not only lifetime. So let us use at least thirty minutes to formulate a new question: What are thinking times? And do we need a different conception of human thinking?