Despite being able to beat grandmasters at chess, compose symphonies in seconds, and flawlessly mimic Shakespeare’s iambic pentameter, AI still can’t quite convince the medical establishment it’s worthy of a seat at the microscope. Especially in prostate cancer—where it might spot microscopic metastases faster than a caffeine-fueled pathologist—AI remains the overly eager intern: impressive, perhaps, but not to be trusted with anything sharp. It seems to me that the medical profession is slow to adopt and embrace new technologies. Perhaps it's the centuries-old tradition of clinical caution, or maybe it's the profession's unspoken motto: "If it didn’t come from a peer-reviewed journal printed on papyrus, it doesn’t count." Either way, AI sits in the waiting room, algorithms polished, eager to help—while the doctors debate whether it's safe to let the machine hold the clipboard.