“Our fine arts were developed, their types and uses were established, in times very different from the present, by men whose power of action upon things was insignificant in comparison with ours. But the amazing growth of our techniques, the adaptability and precision they have attained, the ideas and habits they are creating, make it a certainty that profound changes are impending in the ancient craft of the Beautiful. In all the arts there is a physical component which can no longer be considered or treated as it used to be, which cannot remain unaffected by our modern knowledge and power. For the last twenty years neither matter nor space nor time has been what it was from time immemorial. We must expect great innovations to transform the entire technique of the arts, thereby affecting artistic invention itself and perhaps even bringing about an amazing change in our very notion of art.

Paul Valéry, PIÈCES SUR L’ART

“Le Conquete de l’ubiquité”, Paris, 1928.

I: The AI Panic & Benjamin's Ghost

“In principle a work of art has always been reproducible. Man-made artifacts could always be imitated by men.“

The flood of AI generated images has unleashed a panic – is art dying? Is human creativity obsolete, now that machines can conjure visuals from mere words? Check on twitter, and among the Ghibli spam, you’ll hear cries of ‘soullessness’, ‘theft’, and the devaluation of artistic skill. And while the technology feels unprecedented, the attacks echo debates from a century ago.

Photography, when it emerged in the late 1800s, was regarded as a mindless toy. Like AI, it was considered far removed from *true* art. In fact, critics like Baudelaire lamented it as “art's most mortal enemy” — a purely mechanical process devoid of imagination.

It was precisely in this context of technological transition that the philosopher Walter Benjamin, writing in 1935, sought to understand the profound transformation underway. Grappling with the rise of photography and film in his landmark essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, Benjamin recognized a fundamental truth: Technology doesn't just create new tools for art, it radically changes how art is made, and who can make it.

II: Liberating the Eye

“For the first time in the process of pictorial reproduction, photography freed the hand of the most important artistic functions which henceforth devolved only upon the eye looking into a lens.”

Ever since it was invented, visual art demanded mastery over tools, like the paintbrush or chisel. If one wanted to capture an image — whether a scene observed in the real world or one born purely in the imagination — the artist first had to learn how to use these instruments.

That’s a tall barrier. Technical execution is paramount: the quality of brushstrokes, the realism of perspective, the proportions of color mixing. And what separates the amateur from the master is sheer accumulated experience. Being a good painter is a technical skill acquired through years, decades, a lifetime of practice, and not everyone can reach the highest levels of mastery. But photography changed the game.

A good pic is measured by less technical aspects. Technology changed the requirements to something else entirely: subject selection, frame composition, timing. This is the expression of the photographer's eye as they capture a moment, guided by their unique taste and vision.

Even though there’s technical know-how involved (in aspects like understanding light, post-processing or the camera itself) the primary artistic act shifted. Experience isn’t central to taking a good pic, in the same way that experience is core to making a good painting. This is why Baudelaire said "the photographic industry was the refuge of every would-be painter, every painter too ill-endowed or too lazy to complete his studies." Even today, some painters agree.

Benjamin understood this fundamental change. The machine takes out much of the work when it comes to the physical creation of an image, and so the years dedicated solely to mastering physical execution were no longer an obstacle. This lowering of the physical execution barrier is the historical precedent for what we’re about to discuss.

III: AI & the Visionary Artist

“One of the foremost tasks of art has always been the creation of a demand which could be fully satisfied only later... The history of every art form shows critical epochs in which a certain art form aspires to effects which could be fully obtained only with a changed technical standard, that is to say, in a new art form.”

AI tools dramatically lower the physical execution barrier, even further than photography did. They offer the potential to translate into visual form complex concepts, feelings, and scenes with unprecedented speed and (potentially) fidelity. But that’s not even the main leap when it comes to artistic possibility.

Photography had a drawback. While excelling at documenting the real, it struggled to originate. As it remained limited to capturing images of the physically present, photographers couldn’t create something truly *new*, removed from what already exists. True innovation — capturing the purely imagined — remained the difficult domain of manual art, behind its immense technical barrier.

But AI isn’t photography. If photography shifted the primary artistic act from the hand to the selective eye, then AI marks the next profound leap: it shifts the “action of creating art” even further away from the art form. Where the camera allowed the eye to create art by capturing the external world, AI generation allows the *mind*, by articulating the artist’s internal imagination. This moves beyond mere mechanical reproduction, into the realm of visualizing the imagined.

Since the cave days, we have strived to capture imagination. Some spend their entire lives learning how to push the limits of paint, paper and stone to express their dreams, myths, emotions. AI can generate those complex images, depicting the abstract and the unreal, territory previously exclusive to manual art — without demanding a life as payment. It represents a change in Benjamin’s technical standard, a new art form aiming to fulfill that persistent historical, human demand: giving form to thought.

This new art form is what motivates the prospect of what I’ve been calling the «Visionary Artist». If a painter expresses themselves through paint, and a writer through their writing, the artist leveraging AI expresses their unique perspective primarily through conceptualization and articulation of an internal vision. Their core skill lies not in wielding a brush or mastering camera settings, but in possessing a distinct vision and finding ways to guide the AI towards manifesting it. The power shifts decisively towards the idea.

Predictably, this dramatic shift fuels intense anxieties. We hear accusations that AI art is built on “theft”, which, while raising important questions about copyright in the Intelligence Age, overlooks the fundamentals of artistic creation itself. All original art builds on previous influence, the absorption and combination of existing styles. Good artists copy, great artists steal. AI's learning process, while technologically different, participates in this dialectic.

But there’s another fear that is, I believe, much deeper. That AI will replace the human artist. I think this shows a fundamental confusion of what artistic value is. It mistakes the creation of any image with the creation of Art, and we need to make a sharp distinction. Only by understanding this difference can we see why AI, far from ending Art, challenges something else entirely...

IV: The Artist vs the Illustrator - A Necessary Culling

“The Dadaists attached much less importance to the sales value of their work than to its usefulness for contemplative immersion. The studied degradation of their material was not the least of their means to achieve this uselessness.”

What makes an image Art? In the sense that it matters, I believe it comes from somewhere personal. A unique vision deep within – a perspective, an idea, an emotion that the Artist feels necessary to express. The work merges with the individual, it's something only that specific person could bring forth. Think Picasso, Basquiat, Miyazaki. We don’t seek out their work because of how it looks, but because they're in the work. Their vision, their soul, their way of filtering reality and substituting it with imagination. We want to connect with their way of seeing the world. People connect with that, not just the surface artstyle. You don't watch Ghibli films just for the cute drawings – you watch them for the specific mood, the storytelling, the underlying philosophy, the soul Miyazaki and his team pour into it. AI can replicate the Ghibli look, but it can't mimic the soul. That's why Ghibli is safe. The value transcends mere technical proficiency.

What makes an image an illustration? The value lies primarily in skillful execution in replicating a look, often in service of fulfilling a client's request. Pencil-drawn portraits focused solely on photorealism without deeper insight. Endless $20 D&D character commissions rendered in that generic, safe tumblr style. The endless stream of images and videos perfectly incorporating trending online aesthetics. How it looks often outweighs who made it and why. The value of the work is measured by how well it adopts a familiar aesthetic.

The fear that AI will “replace human artists” reveals a deep confusion about artistic value, so let be honest here: much of what passes for "art" online, particularly in commission-heavy circles, isn't driven by unique vision, but by competent execution within a marketable style. This is the realm of the illustrator, not the Artist, and it's crucial to distinguish them, because AI poses a fundamentally different question to each one.

AI models are imitation machines, excelling at learning and replicating styles. They can carry out complex visual instructions, with increasing technical fidelity of execution. Therefore, work whose primary value is its style and technical execution – the domain of such illustration and commission work – faces danger. If an AI can quickly and cheaply imitate Your Artstyle™, the economic value for that specific type of labor quickly goes to zero.

This isn't about devaluing technical execution, but about recognizing its place. Technique in search of vision is essential to art. Technique as the vision is generic, replaceable, mimicable, automatable, and worthless. AI can't replace the Artist because the Artist's core contribution – the unique vision – remains untouched by machine learning imitating past data. AI does threaten the illustrator, whose main product is imitation. It forces an uncomfortable, yet necessary, revaluation about what we truly value. Far from killing Art, AI might just dispose of the drivel.

This is where AI becomes not just a chaotic disruptor, but in my view, a necessary correction. If your creative output is so dependent on a replicable visual style, so devoid of unique personal vision that it can be convincingly mimicked by a machine, then what intrinsic artistic value did it ever possess? What intrinsic artistic value do *you* possess, other than making cute drawings on your Wacom? AI beats you at style and execution. If that's all your work offers, then yes, you are going to be replaced, just like everyone with a normal job. And frankly, if your "art" can be automated by feeding your portfolio into an algorithm and asking for more of the same, maybe automation isn't the problem. Maybe it's the emptiness of your work.

But can AI replace the Artist? Can it originate that unique, necessary vision? No. AI operates on the recombination of statistical patterns drawn from vast datasets of existing human creation. It doesn't, as far as we know, possess lived experience, subjective consciousness, or that internal spark of necessity which drives the creation of resonant Art. If it does, we have problems a whole lot bigger than artists going unemployed.

It can mimic the styles of Picasso and Basquiat, but it can't be Picasso and Basquiat. It can't have its perspective shaped by its life and times. It can generate countless images in the style of Ghibli, but it can't copy the specific worldview and imaginative leaps of Miyazaki and his team. The endless stream of "Ghibli AI" doesn't diminish the desire for authentic Ghibli films, precisely because we seek the source, the vision, not just the aesthetic shell it comes packaged in.

It becomes clear, then, that for the Artist, AI isn't a replacement, a competitor or an enemy. It's just another tool. Like the camera, the synthesizer, FL Studio. It's a means for Artists to execute a vision. More rapidly, in new ways, perhaps even — like the camera — bypassing limitations in their own technical skill. The value still resides in the quality and originality of the vision within.

AI, therefore, doesn't mean the end of Art. Instead, it acts as a harsh, clarifying light, forcing us to differentiate between images created for their monetarily valuable, cheaply imitated surface looks, and between Art valued for the irreplaceable human vision beneath. It dooms the illustrators, but empowers the Visionaries. Originality lives in the cracks between machine-perfect brushstrokes.

O algoritmo acorda-me – mais uma manhã "perfeita".

“Bom dia, Cidadão Silva”, diz o EuroGrid. “Índice de Qualidade do Ar: 95 - Excelente!” Não sei onde é que eles enfiaram o sensor, mas os meus pulmões contam-me outra história. O sol simulado invade a minha cápsula, e tenho uma vista privilegiada para todo o esplendor de Lisbon. Mas eu não vivo em Lisbon, vivo em Lisboa, e tal como a vista, esse esplendor é falso. Tal como a vista, foi produzido por uma cuidadosa engenharia que prioritiza o digital acima do verdadeiro. Besides, estou no piso 72, e nunca seria capaz de apanhar sol aqui em baixo.

A MegaResi é uma "Smart Living Unit", ou como nós lhe chamamos, um caixão sobrelotado feito de cimento rachado, bio-diesel queimado e algas apodrecidas. E a única razão pela qual temos isto é porque, como há uns anos nenhum de nós tinha casa, quase queimávamos as deles.

É um dos maiores edifícios do dormitório na margem sul do rio, um mundo distante das villas de Cascais, onde os tech nomads Franco-Germânicos e os creditizios Italianos desfrutam de energia prioritária, e ar puro.

Mas nem tudo é horrível: o habitat-cell onde durmo é maior do que a da maioria. Até temos uma sala de estar ao lado do contentor de cápsulas, e esse tipo de espaço livre está fora de questão para quem vive do UBI da EuroFed. Entro na casa de banho (privada!) para tomar duche. Estou farto destas paredes e da sua tinta descascada, portanto, os meus EuroGläser transformam-nas nas montanhas de Sintra. Não adoro, mas tipo, não vou pagar por wallpapers premium, e sempre é melhor do que o bolor.

"Bom dia, Miguel! O teu ami-" foda-se, já começa. Nem enquanto tomo um banho posso estar descansado. O AI social assistant diz umas merdas quaisqueres acerca de algas e suplementos e pessoas de quem mal me lembro enquanto me despacho para sair de casa. Quando saio do chuveiro e me olho ao espelho, vejo, por algum motivo, um meme à base de algas bodybuilders. Como se já não tivesse algas suficientes no caralho da minha vida.

Na sala, a Marta estava agarrada ao tablet, a ver sabe-se lá o quê. "Pai, olha! Tive 98% no meu módulo de História Franco-Germânica!" Ah. Grande patriota.

Não posso expressar a minha desilusão com o facto de ela levar isto a sério, está na idade em que fica magoada com tudo. Faço uma cara para esconder a minha reação e tento distraí-la com festinhas no cabelo. Antes de a minha mão chegar à cabeça dela, a tosse volta. Está a piorar. Lá o robô do tablet diz que são alergias, mas eu sei bem o que se passa.

Desde os ciberataques às centrais nucleares do Reno-Ruhr que o Seixal-7 está às escuras. Há gente a mais cá dentro, e não temos watts suficientes para as luzes puxadas, os eletrodomésticos desenrascados, os robôs clandestinos, e, sobretudo, para os purificadores de ar. Um problema que se agrava porque, tendo em conta a falta de energia limpa, existem burros de merda que se metem a queimar bio-diesel dentro da MegaResi. Mas, to be fair, sem os geradores clandestinos o Dr Tiago não conseguia ligar as luzes da clínica. Para mim, a culpa é clara.

Sure, foram os Estatais que cortaram a luz. Mas foram os EuroFeds que decidiram desmantelar as centrais solares Portuguesas, em nome da "harmonia federal", e foram os EuroFeds que escolheram enviar a pouca energia que nos resta para os palacetes de Cascais e não para as MegaResis. Sabias que com os watts usados por 1 aerostático em 1 hora de vôo, consegues fornecer durante 2 dias uma MegaResi do tamanho da Damaia-2?

A minha cibertrela brilha com o meu horário, a luz do texto holográfico magoa-me os olhos :

06h00: Acordar (ou ser multado por desperdiçar a energia do sol) 
06h30: Magneto-Metro (a lata de sardinhas que vai para Alcântara-Mar)
07h00: Centro de Manutenção de Drones (arranjar os brinquedos dos nossos donos)
13h00: Almoço (algas)
14h00: Mais drones
19h00: Deslocação (de volta à gaiola)
20h00: Exercício de patriotismo (abanar bandeiras para as câmaras)
20h30: Jantar (mais algas)
22h00: Dormir (durante algumas horas, posso fingir que estou morto)

O Magneto-Metro assemelha-se ao convés de um negreiro. Porém, é mais limpo, e na perfeita harmonia societal do século 21, menos racialmente segregado.

Enquanto somos orientados para o nosso respetivo lugar na Máquina, temos o privilégio de ser bombardeados com apenas a melhor publicidade concebida pelos departamentos de marketing de Paris e o auge artístico da propaganda oferecida pelo Ministério Federal para a Cidadania Europeia.

Slogans holográficos iluminam o ar reciclado: "NEUTRALIDADE CARBÓNICA", "MAIS DRONES EM LVIV", "ABAIXO O ESTADO-UNIÃO", “JUNTOS SOMOS MAIS FORTES.” Juntos? Não estamos “juntos”. Cada um de nós é a representação física de uma linha num Excel em Bruxelas, por acaso geograficamente concentradas para optimização estatística.

Mas chega de filosofias. A minha cibertrela apita: chegámos a Alcântara-Mar. Cheguei ao meu destino, e como uma boa linha, devo apresentar-me energético e sorridente para o meu turno de 12 horas no Lisbon Drone Maintenance Hub.

Estou num ex-armazém, reabilitado depois das Nacionalizações Capitais, onde técnicos realizam a manutenção dos drones que mantêm a economia a voar. Há um ano atrás, este trabalho não existia. Os drones Chineses que tínhamos cá eram capazes de se auto-manter, mas sendo tão avançados, foram enviados para Lviv assim que a Eastern Front re-abriu. Podíamos ter-lhes comprado mais, mas a parceria com o possível inimigo podia ficar mais caro do que diz no contrato, tendo em conta as jogadas na Grécia.

Portanto, a Administração Distrital abriu um concurso para resolver o problema do transporte, com os drones produzidos cá. São rápidos e ágeis, mas inutilmente antigos para a guerra. O link óptico não tem resolução suficiente para ser útil no Leste, tendo em conta que foi concebido para entregar encomendas - não para perseguir pessoas. São uma relíquia de um tempo passado. E agora somos milhares na linha, tal como o meu avô no tempo dele.

Dirijo-me ao meu departamento: entregas a consumidores. Klaus, o fantasma digital Franco-Germânico a quem eu chamo de chefe em público e de outras coisas em privado, aponta-me outro Euler-3. "Assegure a operação exímia." Operação do quê? Da entrega aero-expresso de pastéis de nata? Claro que sim, Herr Klaus, não poderíamos deixar que arrefecessem durante a viagem até à Riviera de Cascais. Os medicamentos para as MegaResis que esperem, e os doentes também. Não se pode ter tudo!

Eu faço o que é preciso. A este ponto as minhas mãos mexem-se sozinhas, já sabem o que fazer mesmo sem o módulo neuronal de memória muscular oferecido pela gerência. Nunca compreendi o pessoal que voluntariamente enfia o chip na cabeça. Nunca compreendi a maior parte das pessoas aqui. Parecem felizes. Às vezes arrependo-me de aceitar este trabalho, era mais feliz se continuasse a receber o UBI e não fazer nada da vida. Podia continuar a ver 3 SenzeKino por dia, ou a ler livros antigos, escritos por gente que, se vivesse hoje em dia, matava-se. Mas a situação para os UBintes está a ficar pior. Os créditos de cidadania valem cada vez menos, mesmo os poucos comerciantes que ainda os aceitam nunca têm à venda o que é preciso. Para comprar a medicação da Marta aos contrabandistas do Seixal-7, preciso de Euros. A única forma de os arranjar é ou aqui ou em Lviv. Acho que fiz a escolha preferível.

A voz do Klaus interrompe o meu raciocínio: "Cidadão Silva, otimize a sua performance laboral. O Estado-União não descansa, ao contrário de si.” É fácil ele dizer isto, estando confortável na sua homeoffice em Genebra, ou no coworking da EMW em Muniche. Eu faço um esforço para evitar riscar o decal da bandeira.

Vou mas é almoçar. Ou o mais parecido a isso, dentro dos possíveis, tendo em conta o prato do dia.

O Victory Blend sabe a desespero à base de algas, apimentadas com patriotismo sintético. Na parede, o vidscreen da FedNews berra a propaganda do costume: Tragédias Gregas, Agressões Chi-Com, drones heróicos a destruírem… algo. Depois das explosões, eles só mostram o fumo. Cortam o vídeo antes de vermos o que está por baixo.

Não tou a prestar atenção. Tou a pensar no que vou fazer. Tou a pensar nos robôs Franco-Germânicos que, eventualmente, vão evoluir o suficiente para me substituir. Tou a pensar na Frente, que vai ser a única forma de ganhar dinheiro a sério quando eu for industrialmente irrelevante. Tou a pensar na minha filha, e na tosse que piora cada vez que chego a casa. Tou a pensar no meu tio, que foi ‘urgentemente realocado’ depois de começar a fazer demasiadas perguntas acerca da ‘harmonização energética’. Tou a pensar nos servomotores a mais.

Os servomotores a mais.

O Euler-3 é uma bandeira da engenharia Franco-Germânica. Excelência no design, na programação, na impressão das peças e na sua montagem. Todo o processo industrial propositava não apenas fazer um excelente drone, mas mostrar ao mundo que a tecnologia Europeia estava de volta. Nunca poderia ser um acaso aleatório que levou esta obra de arte mecânica a ter 2 servomotores a mais. Eu contei-os 3 vezes para ter a certeza. Mas no depósito de carga deste drone estão 14 micro-braços, não 12. Isto não é um defeito nem um modelo especial, é uma alteração propositada e ilegal: são 2 ganchos minúsculos, escondidos diretamente atrás do cargo validator, e podiam ter escapado a um técnico pior. Talvez já tenham.

Eu ligo a cibertrela ao Euler para aceder ao registo de mercadoria. Quase imediatamente, entendo que é falsificado. Quem tiver soldado os microservos também preparou o software para resistir ao escrutínio. Indo pelo registo, o drone só transportou 80 kg esta semana, mas o consumo de combustível indica o transporte de pelo menos 125. Eu resolvo abrir os internos do sistema para descobrir a verdade - e o drone dá luta. Os sistemas reprogramados para impedir o restauro são surpreendentemente rijos. Este hacker era mais que um average puto estúpido armado em cyberpunk. Eventualmente, depois de o Klaus me interromper 3 vezes para “prestar apoio”, consigo rebentar com a fechadura.

A minha recompensa são 17 páginas de pastéis de nata overpriced. Mas, wait. Aqui no meio há uma linha a vermelho. 4 unidades de 核电池-XXX-49. Foda-se. A cibertrela interpreta a minha confusão e súbito aumento do ritmo cardíaco como desconhecimento do produto, e não como choque por ver baterias ilegais Chinesas num drone pasteleiro.

Designation: Hé Diànchí-Xiǎo Xīng Xīng-49 
Westernized: Nuclear Battery "Little Star” v49
Manufacturer: Shining Lotus E-Tech, Shanghai, PRC
Energy Density: 540 kWh (Peak) / 210 kWh (Stable) 
Equivalent: 70–80 hours of continuous power for a standard Smart Living Unit. One week for standard battle dress
Harmonic Risk Assessment: Catastrophic
Status: CRIMINAL

Não fazes ideia do quão grato estou por teres lido a minha imaginação até ao fim. Quero imenso saber o que achas sobre a escrita, e mais do que isso, a tua especulação: O que é que está a acontecer na Grécia? Quem é que está a ganhar a guerra? E porque é que ainda não se falou de nada Americano?

Para onde é que achas que história vai a seguir?

Leave a comment

“Bom dia, Cidadão Silva!” It’s your personalized EuroGrid interface, delivering a message of unwavering optimism. “Índice da Qualidade do Ar: 95 - Excelente! Viagem de hoje: Magneto-Metro Linha 8 – a eficácia em movimento!”

The year is 2034, and Lisbon stands as a shining example of European innovation and sustainable living. As the world slowly emerges out of the Lag Phase, and shoots toward exponential acceleration, this city is a testament to the power of technology to create a brighter future for all.

You reside in one of the middle floors of the Seixal-7 MegaResi, in a state-of-the-art Smart Living Habitat. It’s a marvel of sustainable design and algorithmic resource allocation, constructed after the Housing Riots of 2026. Your smart-glasses auto-activate, projecting a personalized augmented reality overlay onto your surroundings. You look out through your AI-generated “window”. The privileged perspective from the 72nd floor allows you to stare in wonder at the Tejo, it glitters with aerostatics and electric hydrofoils ferrying expats to the Madeira Economic Zone, their graphene hulls shimmering like beetles, en route to the European Spaceport.

You wave a hand, and the walls transform into a panoramic view of the Sintra mountains. As you step into the smart shower, your personal AI social assistant chimes in with a cheerful voice: "Bom dia, Miguel! O teu amigo Ricardo publicou fotografias da viagem dele às Quintas de Algas do Algarve – parece que a família toda se divertiu imenso a colher proteína sustentável!" Your shower wall displays a curated selection of Ricardo's photos, showcasing the gleaming algae pools and smiling faces of his family. It adds, “A análise indica uma probabilidade de 97% em como gostarás deste conteúdo presencial. Queres que marque uma visita igual para ti?"

As you dry off, it continues with it’s curated feed: "A tua colega, Ana, partilhou um artigo sobre os últimos avanços em suplementos nutricionais personalizados – desenvolvimentos entusiasmantes na otimização da saúde individual!" The article appears on your bathroom mirror, scrolling at a comfortable reading pace. It’s an interesting read describing a new algae-based supplement, based on a special strain of seaweeds that grow by the Ukranian coast. Experts agree they can be used to substitute most animal-sourced amino-acids! At the end, a popup appears: you even got a promocode for 5% off.

"E, finalmente," the AI adds, "um meme altamente relevante a circular na tua esfera social. A análise de sentimentos projeta uma probabilidade de 87% de divertimento." A holographic image pops up in front of you: a cartoon of a smiling, muscular sardine lifting weights made of algae, with the caption: "Gettin' Swole on Sustainable Protein! #EuroGains #AlgaeLife #FutureIsGreen". The AI helpfully comments: "Este meme faz referência à recente iniciativa de promover a proteína à base de algas como uma componente chave da Dieta Europeia. Gostarias de pedir mais doses de algas na próxima encomenda semanal de bio-recursos?"

Your daughter, Marta, is in the hab’s main room, curled up on the couch, clutching her EF Junior Citizen tablet. Its screen shines with friendly AI tutors teaching harmonious, post-national values. “Pai, olha! Tive 98% no meu módulo de História Franco-Germânica!" You ruffle her hair, ignoring the faint cough she’s got. It’s getting worse, but her personal pediatric AI assured you it’s just “seasonal particulate allergies.” No need to worry! The air in your district is clean and fresh. Personal automobiles have long been restricted, contributing to the Ecological Transition, and the emissions of the few polluting industries are filtered by the latest in European technology.

The cyberdeck mounted on your wrist is your very own gateway to the interconnected network of the EuroGrid. With a jingle, it displays today’s personal schedule, a holographic testament to the power of computerized collective planning:

06:00: Wake-up (synchronized with optimal solar energy output)

06:30: Magneto-Metro Commute (Seixal-7 to Alcântara-Mar – supporting vital defense industries)

07:00: Work Shift - Lisbon Drone Maintenance Hub (Technician, Level 2 – ensuring the smooth flow of essential supplies)

13:00: Lunch Break (Nutrient Supplement, "Victory Blend" – fueling the European workforce)

14:00: Work Shift Resumes

19:00: Commute (Magneto-Metro)

20:00: Mandatory Patriotism Exercise (Community Vigil – honoring our brave soldiers on the Eastern Front)

22:00: Sleep Cycle (optimized for peak cognitive performance)

The Magneto-Metro, a triumph of European engineering, speeds you above the city, its frictionless rails humming with 100% renewable energy. The carriages glow blue with EF prosperity metrics, as holographic billboards display messages of solidarity and determination.

“NEUTRALIDADE CARBÓNICA ALCANÇADA EM 81% DOS DISTRITOS-MEMBROS”

“LVIV PEACEKEEPING INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX ATINGE PRODUÇÃO DE 500 MIL DRONES POR MÊS"

“LABORATÓRIOS ZURIQUE-GENEBRA LIDERAM O MUNDO NA INVESTIGAÇÃO DA SUPER-INTELIGÊNCIA”

"JUNTOS SOMOS MAIS FORTES! O ESTADO-UNIÃO CAIRÁ"

“DENUNCIE ATIVIDADES SUSPEITAS: PROTEJA OS NOSSOS VALORES"

One advertisement portrays an AI-generated cartoon rooster squawking "COMPRA TÍTULOS PATRIÓTICOS: INVESTE NA VITÓRIA!"

A cheerful, synthesized voice announces your stop: "Alcântara-Mar! A apoiar o escudo da defesa Europeia!"

The Lisbon Drone Maintenance Hub is a hive. It serves as a vital link in the chainmail of the EF's defense against the unjustified aggression of the Union State. The drones flying in and out of the Hub are testament to Portugal's crucial role in the European war effort.

You’ve worked here for 7 months. You used to be on the European Federal Ministry for Citizen Prosperity’s Universal Basic Income, but when Lisbon's self-repairing delivery drones were sent to the great factories of the Lviv Peacekeeping Industrial Complex, the government put out a hiring call for technicians. Now, instead of slacking off at home or meandering in the streets like some ne’er-do-well cyberpunk, your diligent work helps defend the brave Ukrainian people. Your supervisor Klaus carefully controls the whole operation from the comfort of his home in Genebra, through his virtual holographic avatar. The boss assigns you a EuropäischeMotorenWerke Euler-3 light cargo drone. "Manutenção rotineira, Cidadão Silva. Garanta uma operação impecável. Cada drone no ar é um golpe contra a tirania!"

You quickly got used to the remote-supervision protocol, and learned to enjoy it’s particularities, like the algorithmically determined quality checks, or reinforced motivation according to personal productivity metrics. You’ve heard of factories that go even further. In the state-of-the-art facilities of the Zurich-Genebra Special Development Zone, superhuman intelligences are designed, trained and, it is whispered, hosted. This is the triumph of Europa: innovation runs wild and free without endangering the healthy and safe way of life of all European citizens. You shiver in excitement at the possibility of one day being under the watchful guard of such a perfect machine!

The Euler’s rotors are snapped, its cargo hatch scorched. “Reparação prioritária,” the AI says in its characteristically cheery Mitteleuropa cadence. “Proprietário: Pastéis de Belém, PME registada. Rácio dívida-produtividade: prioritário.” The work is fulfilling. Once, Lisbon’s streets choked on delivery trucks, but now, thanks to your work, drones glide on optimized routes, slashing emissions. Tightening a rotor bolt, you perform your duties with diligence and pride, knowing that your work contributes to the defense of freedom and democracy. You are careful not to scratch the flag decal.

During your lunch break, you consume your Victory Blend nutrient supplement, a carefully formulated mix of essential vitamins and minerals designed to maximize productivity. This month’s flavor: “Folhado Misto”. Yum!

The cafeteria is a bright and welcoming space, featuring interactive displays showcasing the diversity and richness of European cuisine. The walls are adorned with interactive displays of heroic soldiers defending the Eastern Front, and inspiring quotes from the Federation’s leaders, reminding every citizen of their vital role in the collective effort.

A large FedNews vidscreen occupies one wall, broadcasting the midday update. The anchor, a polished AI-generated composite of pan-European features, reports with unwavering optimism:

"… e em noutras notícias, a Comissão Federal emitiu uma forte condenação dos contínuos atos desestabilizadores da República Popular da China, na região do Egeu. Relatórios indicam que o Partido Comunista Chinês está a prestar assistência económica e tecnológica substancial ao criminoso regime Grego, em flagrante violação das sanções aplicadas pela comunidade internacional. Esta parceria ilícita, alimentada por ambições expansionistas China-Comunistas, representa uma ameaça direta à segurança do nosso flanco a sul, e à estabilidade da Zona Euro. Especialistas alertam que os China-Comunistas estão a aproveitar-se das vulnerabilidades económicas da Grécia para obter uma posição estratégica na Europa, utilizando a nação como um intermediário para minar a nossa segurança coletiva."

The vidscreen displays images of Chi-Com cargo ships unloading humanoid robots at the port of Piraeus, followed by footage of Prime Minister Konstantopoulou shaking hands with a stern, unhappy-looking Chinese official.

The report shifts to a more upbeat segment, highlighting the successes of the Lviv Peacekeeping Industrial Complex, in the production of advanced drone technology for the defense of Ukraine. The camera pans over rows of gleaming, newly manufactured drones, emblazoned in EF Blue – a symbol of hope and defiance against the forces of tyranny.

The scene cuts to a brief, carefully curated VideoSenze sequence. You follow a squadron of sleek, EF Blue drones – models strikingly similar to the automated units that once operated in Lisbon – as they soar gracefully over a rugged, war-torn landscape. You feel the wind on your face, just as if you were flying alongside them. Targeting data is meticulously calculated by advanced AI and flashes across the screen, highlighting enemy military vehicles and fortifications. The drones unleash a series of precisely calibrated micro-munitions. You feel the heat as explosions erupt, neutralizing the designated targets. The video emphasizes the lack of reckless destruction: you don't see any burning villages or fleeing civilians. A text overlay proclaims: "MÍNIMO DANO COLATERAL – DENTRO DAS NORMAS EUROPEIAS”. It stresses how, unlike some other countries, the European Federation cares deeply about human rights.

The anchor's voice returns, brimming with confidence: "Our precision drone strikes are carefully designed to protect lives." The report concludes, giving way to a fascinating showcase of the latest in Parisian Fashion: programmable nanoweave.

You finish your Victory Blend, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. The news, while concerning, only strengthens your resolve to contribute to the European cause. Every drone you repair is a small act of defiance against those who would seek to undermine the unity and prosperity of Europe.

Back at your workstation, you complete the drone maintenance, confident that you have played your part in the European war effort. Before you leave the Hub, you attend the Mandatory Patriotism Exercise, a community vigil held in a nearby square. It feels good to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with your fellow citizens, united in your resolve to defend European values.

After that, dinner in Martim Moniz. At the local franchise of the EuroBistro, a Ukrainian refugee chef serves bio-printed bacalhau. “Sustentável e patriótico!” the menu declares. Some tables over, Franco-Germanic digital nomads laugh over glasses of Santarém Rosé. “Portugal is the future,” one says. “It’s so quiet here”.

“Oui, and so cheap too!”

As you return home, the city lights twinkle like stars. Marta shows you her school project: a toy drone assembled from scrap parts. She almost jumps with joy! “A professora diz que, se me esforçar muito, um dia eu posso trabalhar em Lviv!” You tuck her into bed, it’s still too early for her little dreams. Her cough is softened by ministry-prescribed vapors. “Pai, quando é que os robôs vão voltar?” She misses having you around the hab. You tell her they’re helping keep peace far away.

You lay in your own bed, and as sleep pulls you under, the EuroGrid whispers: “Obrigado pela tua contribuição. A tua colaboração sustenta-nos a todos.”

Mas tu não acreditaste mesmo nestas merdas pois não?

We’re living through an era of accelerating technological acceleration, a continuous process driven by compounding innovation. It follows an accelerating exponential curve, flying up faster the faster it gets. This acceleration, driven by the inherent nature of innovation and the profit-seeking logic of Capital, is now approaching an intelligence explosion: self-improving AI. Now comes a time where human minds take the silver, humbled by the aggregated cognitive power of machine intelligence. Past this limit, the world is reshaped, beyond (re)cognition.

Five years ago, the idea of AI obsoleting all human labor was science fiction. Today, it's an academic debate on primetime evening news. More than just the single moment when we’re doomed to be overtaken, the Singularity can be described as a process of accelerating acceleration. It was very slow at the beginning, like most things in life, before it shoots up. First, nothing. Then, everything at once. Futurologists argue about when the Singularity will exactly begin, or even if it already began. Various viewpoints emerge: the invention of the computer, the linking up of the internet, the future creation of AGI, etc.

I think they’re all wrong. The Singularity isn't tied to a specific technology, but to technological progress itself. Technology accelerates with the sharing of information. The technologies that impulse technology to accelerate faster are technologies that accelerate the sharing of information - informatics - which means that the singularity started a long, long time ago, when Humans first learned to Speak.

This was our greatest trait. What separated us from animals, before we had warm homes and supermarkets. Knowledge held by one member of the tribe was knowledge shared by all of the naked monkeys. This ability to accumulate and transmit information, however primitive, was the seed from which all future informatics would grow. Stories were our heritage. About how to tame fire, about tales of the terror of predators and of hunting mammoths, how to kill those great beasts. They were passed down through generations, fragile and susceptible to distortion, always confined to the immediate reach of spoken language. The oral tradition, while powerful in its own time, is an inherently slow and localized form of information transfer, a society where change is as a glacier, slowly dragged forward, change measured not in calendar years but lifetimes and wildlife migratory patterns, and it would be millions of years until acceleration made itself known.

But change was dragged. After the ice, comes a breakthrough: Writing. Around 3200 BC, thousands of years before Romulus would become the great fratricide of Empire, the invention of cuneiform script marked a fundamental shift. Knowledge could now be externalized, freeing it from the constraints of human memory. Now it can be mechanically preserved, for further generations, new minds. Information is no longer dependent on nature’s beings. The first great cities of mankind flourished with this pivotal liberation, allowing for the accumulation of information, and it’s transmission across time and distance. It laid the foundation for public administration, complex laws, and complaints about subpar copper. Yet, for thousands of years, the spread of written knowledge remained a painstaking, manual process, limited by the laborious task of hand-copying texts, limiting the transmission of information to the wealthy. The sharing of information was privilege of the rich, whether in the form of powerful rulers commissioning scribes to document their conquests, or the Vatican, employing monks for the copy of Holy Texts, while carefully guarding access to forbidden knowledge. Informatics as a tool of power.

4600 years later, the Printing Press. Introduced in 1440, Gutenberg's invention unleashed a flood of cheaply printed information. Suddenly, books and pamphlets could be produced quickly - and cheaply. Cheap information fermented the intellectual foundation of the Renaissance, the religious upheaval of the Reformation, and the groundbreaking discoveries of the Scientific Revolution. No longer were science and philosophy confined to the halls of universities or the chambers of the powerful. They spilled out into society, engaging a wide audience and accelerating the pace of intellectual and social change. The centuries-long rhythm of slow, gradual evolution was replaced by revolution. A new, dynamic era of new ideas, challenging power structures and reshaping politics. Society would not be the same.

The Telegraph, arriving a mere 400 years after Gutenberg, marked another leap in the human quest to compress space and time. Utilizing electrical signals transmitted through wires, informatic technology decoupled communication from physical transportation. No longer would knowledge be bound by the speed of horses, ships, or even the fastest trains. With the telegraph, information could travel at the speed of electricity. And that seemed like magic.

Just decades later, Telephones followed, and added a human dimension to that instantaneous connection. No longer limited to coded messages, communication became personal, immediate, bridging distances with the sound of emotion.

Radio accelerated communication yet again, with it’s consequences. No longer point-to-point, it enabled a single source to reach, inform, and influence the masses.

1969 births the internet. Lo, first flickers of connection, computers whispering across a wire. But it’s closed off, and no one feels the paradigm shift.

World Wide Web, in 1989. Information flows freely, a torrent of knowledge, ideas, deterritorialized.

In 2007, Smartphones give us permanent connection. The internet in every pocket.

2017. Birth of AI as Large Language Models prove Attention Is All You Need.

2022. ChatGPT goes viral and makes AI popular, it puts on a show.

2024. Reasoning Models. They’ve learned how to think.

2025+ AGI? ASI? The Unknowable.

Acceleration.

This shrinking interval between breakthroughs isn't just about technology getting faster, it's about the rate of change itself increasing. It's not just linear progress, it's progress that feeds off itself. The invention of the transistor enabled the creation of smaller, more powerful computers. These computers, in turn, allowed for the design of even more advanced, more powerful transistors, accelerating Moore's Law. The internet allowed for global collaboration among scientists, researchers and engineers, speeding up the development and deployment of new technologies, further developing the internet and advancing it’s capabilities. AI is now being used to design better AI, creating a feedback loop that leads to an unprecedented acceleration in intelligence itself. The bigger it gets, the faster it grows. You cannot stop this snowball.

There might be theoretical or physical limits to how fast or how far technology can advance, but the vector is obvious. We’re approaching a rate of change that is, for all practical purposes, incomprehensible. The crucial implication of accelerating acceleration is not necessarily 'infinite' change, but unpredictable change. Human biology, with it’s brains of mere flesh, isn’t prepared for adaptation at this kind of speed. As the rate of acceleration approaches its theoretical limit, our ability to anticipate the next breakthrough, the next technological paradigm, the next societal shift, becomes obsolete. By the time the free market harnesses this acceleration, runaway corporate power arms-races safety regulation in search of profit, and the future is increasingly impossible to foresee. Not just unknown, unknowable. Beyond prediction. Beyond control. We’re brought to the most total consequence of accelerating acceleration: the Intelligence Explosion.

Nothing human makes it out of the near-future.