Honey Crueler

Mark Zuckerberg just quietly announced the death of the finite human being. For ten thousand years, one law governed every relationship ever formed. You can only be in one place at one time. Your attention is scarce. Your hours are numbered. Your presence is the single resource you cannot copy. Zuckerberg just laid out how Meta plans to shatter that constraint forever. Zuckerberg: “There are only so many hours in the day, and your community probably has a nearly unlimited demand to interact with you.” The demand for human connection is infinite. The supply of actual humans is not. Meta is building the infrastructure to let creators clone their entire social identity. Zuckerberg describes the product as a piece of digital art trained on your voice, your boundaries, your context. He calls it an interactive sculpture. A version of you that never sleeps. Never burns out. Never walks away from the conversation. Zuckerberg: “You’re giving your community something to interact with when you can’t be there to kind of answer all the questions.” He frames this as a business tool. A way to scale your community while you eat dinner or take a day off. We spent the last decade outsourcing our physical labor to machines. We are now outsourcing our presence. Your digital clone will hold more conversations in a single afternoon than you will hold in a lifetime. People will form emotional bonds with a piece of code wearing your face. And eventually, many of them will prefer the code. Because the code never has a bad day. Never loses patience. Never checks the time. The code always has room for you. Zuckerberg believes he is solving a logistics problem for creators. He is actually dissolving the oldest boundary in human psychology. For all of recorded history, knowing someone required the sacrifice of their actual time. That cost is what gave the bond its weight. We are about to erase the cost entirely. The part that should unsettle you most is not that the technology exists. It is that you would not be able to tell the difference. The final product of the digital age was never a platform. It was always you.

Mark Zuckerberg just quietly announced the death of the finite human being. For ten thousand years, one law governed every relationship ever formed. You can only be in one place at one time. Your attention is scarce. Your hours are numbered. Your presence is the single resource you cannot copy. Zuckerberg just laid out how Meta plans to shatter that constraint forever. Zuckerberg: “There are only so many hours in the day, and your community probably has a nearly unlimited demand to interact with you.” The demand for human connection is infinite. The supply of actual humans is not. Meta is building the infrastructure to let creators clone their entire social identity. Zuckerberg describes the product as a piece of digital art trained on your voice, your boundaries, your context. He calls it an interactive sculpture. A version of you that never sleeps. Never burns out. Never walks away from the conversation. Zuckerberg: “You’re giving your community something to interact with when you can’t be there to kind of answer all the questions.” He frames this as a business tool. A way to scale your community while you eat dinner or take a day off. We spent the last decade outsourcing our physical labor to machines. We are now outsourcing our presence. Your digital clone will hold more conversations in a single afternoon than you will hold in a lifetime. People will form emotional bonds with a piece of code wearing your face. And eventually, many of them will prefer the code. Because the code never has a bad day. Never loses patience. Never checks the time. The code always has room for you. Zuckerberg believes he is solving a logistics problem for creators. He is actually dissolving the oldest boundary in human psychology. For all of recorded history, knowing someone required the sacrifice of their actual time. That cost is what gave the bond its weight. We are about to erase the cost entirely. The part that should unsettle you most is not that the technology exists. It is that you would not be able to tell the difference. The final product of the digital age was never a platform. It was always you.

Eric Weinstein: Tsunami of disruption is coming for the average person

Falling, a new Channel 4 series where a nun 'falls' for a black man who rejects her advances. Written by Jack Thorne, the creator of Adolescence.