Mary in a Black-and-White Room: Can AI Ever Experience?

Imagine a woman named Mary.
Mary is a brilliant scientist who knows everything there is to know about color from a scientific perspective.
She knows the wavelengths of every color.
She knows how light stimulates the cells in the retina.
She knows how the brain processes visual information.
She knows every physical fact about color that science can possibly describe.
But Mary has lived her entire life inside a black-and-white room.
Everything she sees is black, white.
One day, the door opens.
Mary walks outside and sees the sky for the first time sees the blue color for the first time.
And now comes the philosophical question:
Does Mary learn something new?
Intuitively, many people would say yes.
She already knew every scientific fact about blue. But she didn't know what it is like to actually see blue.
This is the famous thought experiment known as Mary's Room, proposed by Australian philosopher Frank Jackson.
And this brings us to a fascinating concept in philosophy of mind:
Qualia
Qualia refers to the subjective, first-person character of experience

what it is like to experience something.
What does red look like?
What does pain feel like?
What does love feel like? You can describe these things scientifically, mathematically, and computationally. But is describing an experience the same as having the experience?

And what does this have to do with AI?
This is where the thought experiment becomes especially interesting for computer science.
Imagine an AI that has access to an enormous amount of information about human emotions.
It knows everything about love.
It knows everything about pain.
It has read millions of poems, novels, conversations, and scientific papers.
It can recognize emotions.
It can describe them.
It can simulate empathy.
It can even write a beautiful poem about falling in love.
But does it experience love?
Or is it simply processing patterns and generating an incredibly convincing representation of something it has never subjectively experienced?
That distinction is at the heart of one of the biggest questions surrounding AI and consciousness:
Is intelligence the same thing as experience?
A computer can process information about the world.
A human being doesn't merely process information they experience the world from a first-person perspective.
And that difference, if it exists, may be one of the deepest challenges in understanding artificial consciousness.
Mary knew everything about color.
But she didn't know what seeing color was like...
until she saw it.
Maybe this is one of the fundamental limits of computation.
Or maybe it isn't.
Perhaps one day, an artificial system could genuinely have subjective experience.
We simply don't know.
And that's what makes Mary's Room more than a philosophical thought experiment.

So, does it actually matter?
Here is the question I keep coming back to:
If an AI can convince you that it feels pain, loves, fears, or experiences the color blue and its behavior is indistinguishable from someone who genuinely experiences those things...

Does it matter whether there is actually someone “inside” experiencing them?
If the AI can simulate love so convincingly that you feel loved,
simulate pain so convincingly that you feel compelled to care,
and simulate consciousness so convincingly that you cannot tell the difference...

Is the difference between experience and simulation still ethically important?

Or are we placing too much weight on something we can never directly observe in another being anyway?

Maybe consciousness is not only a question of:

“Does the machine actually feel?”

Maybe the more uncomfortable question is:

“What do we owe something that behaves as if it does?”

And perhaps this is where the question of AI consciousness stops being purely technical or philosophical...

and becomes an ethical one.

Interestingly, Frank Jackson later changed his position on the argument.
He eventually rejected the conclusion he originally drew from Mary's Room, writing: