2. Fuck, this is good, on why we want robots at work but humans in art, via Chris Paik. Tl;dr: in the economy of necessity, humans are friction. In the economy of meaning, they’re the point.

We hate other people when latency becomes intolerable. As soon as a task is about speed, other humans feel like an irritating inconvenience. The Uber driver’s small talk annoys us. We wish we were in a Waymo. The cashier’s tip screen feels like a micro-ransom when all we want is a bottle of water. Elevator operators, switchboard attendants, bank tellers; casualties of our impatience, gone without eulogy. In the economy of necessity, humans are friction, and friction is waste.

But when the stopwatch stops, we flip. We crave other people. Leisure is a hall of mirrors, and only another mortal can polish the glass. A robot could throw perfect strikes forever, but no one would pay to watch. We want the thrill of potential failure. The human tremor that turns repetition into story. Stockfish calculates deeper than Magnus Carlsen, but Carlsen’s fallibility turns calculation into drama. Drama is the premium we pay to feel implicated.

The same rule governs fine dining. Automation could replicate every Michelin-starred dish, but no one would fly across oceans for it. We travel for the scarred forearm that stirred the sauce, for the childhood orchard hidden in the garnish, for the chef’s cameo at the table sealing the story with eye contact. Yet when we order takeout, we tell the driver to leave it at the door just to avoid interaction.

When the World Zigs Toward AI, Zag Toward Being Human

AI and the Beauty of Human Flaws