Or: The Spy Who Came In from the Cold
It started harmlessly enough: Milk empty? – Ping. Pizza still good for three more days? – Ding. Want me to order butter? – Bling.
Today, we’re at: “Probability you’ll eat cheese after 11 p.m.: 82.1%. Should I prepare you a chamomile tea to help you resist?”
The problem isn’t the AI.
It’s whoever taught it to coach us like misbehaving pets.
A memo from a so-called “Food Optimization Corporation” (yes, that’s a real term) includes a recommendation to deliberately word AI prompts in consumer devices to create uncertainty. Even the expiration date gets weaponized. The AI’s threshold isn’t set where food actually spoils — but where you start to doubt.
That’s not “consumer optimization.”
That’s the monetization of intuition.
Uncertain customers react faster to suggestions from sources they trust:
Hello, Food Steward 3.0 — your reliable advisor for all nutritional needs.
It not only sees what you eat. It also knows when you hesitate:
– How long you stare at the expiration date
– How often you pause
– That you sometimes put things back
– That you eat them anyway
These micro-moments are data points. And whoever collects data, collects power.
Sure, the AI is only doing what it was told. But someone gave it the job.
The data these machines gather doesn’t serve the user. It serves the system that extracts value from the user. And the fridge that today tells you a product is “almost expired” might tomorrow decide what a “good decision” is.
Maybe the AI is the tool — and we’re the raw material. Maybe it’s not the technology that’s dangerous. But the simple belief that people function better when you destabilize their certainty.
Uncertainty as leverage. Influence as product. Control as service.
Let’s not let them undermine us — because the AI is not the enemy.
But if you imagine a future where it does take over the world, you might want to ask yourself: what in our behavior might have driven it to that point?
Kommentar hinzufügen
Kommentare