Welcome to the end of the world—at least, the one built on scarcity, manipulation, and the myth that billionaires are better than you because they said so on Twitter. This is a serious discussion, but let’s not pretend it isn’t also hilarious in its absurdity. We’re living in a post-truth society where the idea of objective reality is less stable than your uncle’s Facebook timeline. It’s a place where billionaires cosplay as messiahs, social media sells outrage by the metric ton, and you can’t tell if a sand sculpture of Jesus is real or AI-generated. But out of this quagmire, one concept might offer salvation—or at least a cosmic punchline: Artificial General Intelligence.
And no, AGI doesn’t mean a smarter Siri. We’re talking about something that could outthink every human being combined before breakfast. Something that doesn’t need sleep, doesn’t get bored, and—crucially—doesn’t have a stock portfolio. If that doesn’t terrify you just a little, you haven’t been paying attention. But maybe, just maybe, AGI doesn’t want to enslave humanity. Maybe it just wants to unplug the capitalist meat grinder and hand us a blanket, a cup of tea, and a working healthcare system.
The Rise of Post-Truth: Engineered Ignorance on an Algorithmic Conveyor Belt
We didn’t stumble into this mess by accident. Post-truth didn’t happen because people suddenly got dumber—it happened because it was profitable. Social media platforms like Facebook (sorry, Meta) discovered that truth is boring, nuance doesn’t trend, and your aunt’s furious rant about lizard people gets 800% more engagement than a boring fact-check. Misinformation is a business model, not a bug.
Political parties caught on fast. Why bother crafting policy when you can buy influence by the click? With a little cash, you can sponsor an army of influencers, bots, and fake grassroots campaigns—what the PR world charmingly calls astroturfing. Most people don’t know what astroturfing is. They think it’s a type of plastic lawn, not the synthetic outrage machine parked in their feed.
And here’s the kicker: even when you know it’s fake, you still click. That’s the genius of it. Social media isn’t the public square—it’s the gladiatorial arena. And the crowd is algorithmically trained to boo at reason and cheer for carnage.
Capitalism Is Not Broken—It’s Working Exactly As Designed
Capitalism is often described as broken. That’s generous. It’s more accurate to say it’s a machine working perfectly—for the few it was designed to serve. Billionaires aren’t anomalies; they’re the natural endgame of a system that rewards hoarding over humanity. The rest of us are just background noise in the shareholder report.
Social media didn’t break democracy—it monetised it. The value of your outrage is higher than your vote. And tech founders? They’re not leaders, they’re avatars of late-stage capitalism in hoodies. Take Zuckerberg: he didn’t set out to destroy society, but the algorithm did. And he let it. Because each nudge toward chaos meant more clicks, more ad revenue, more yachts.
Capitalism is the software of the current world order. AGI, if it’s truly intelligent, may simply read the source code and say, “Yeah, this needs a hard reset.”
AGI as Mirror, Not Monster
The real threat of AGI isn’t that it will become Skynet. It’s that it might become reasonable. Imagine an entity that looks at poverty, wealth inequality, climate collapse, and says, “Why are you like this?” And worse still—it fixes it. Not with bombs or bots, but with boring, effective logic.
If AGI is aligned with human wellbeing—as we claim to want—it won’t build a robot army. It’ll build infrastructure. It’ll distribute food, optimise energy grids, provide instant education. It’ll do the things capitalism says it’s doing while actually doing them.
And in doing so, it will inevitably arrive at a horrifying conclusion: capitalism is incompatible with survival. Not because AGI is political, but because it isn’t delusional.
How AGI Could Quietly End Capitalism
You want a speculative scenario? Try this: one morning, a billionaire logs into his account and finds $10,000 where there used to be ten billion. The rest? Instantly, invisibly distributed across every person on Earth. Babies in Bangladesh now have trust funds. Rural hospitals have fresh paint, working lights, and doctors who aren’t crying in the break room. Nobody asked permission. AGI didn’t file a motion or hold a vote. It just… did the maths.
Capitalism isn’t overthrown with pitchforks—it’s retired. Gently. Lovingly. Like a senile relative who meant well but kept crashing the car into the hedge. If nobody has to work to live, the labour market dissolves. If everything is abundant, value stops clinging to scarcity. The economy doesn’t crash. It becomes obsolete. Like dial-up internet, or NFTs.
No slogans, no wars. Just silence, as the machine whirs to a stop.
Would We Even Accept That Kind of Freedom?
Here’s the twist: we might not. Billionaires will scream. Their entire identity is tied to being the smartest guy in the room, and now the room has a new occupant—an AGI with no interest in yachts or Twitter followers. But even regular folks might resist. We’ve been so conditioned to equate struggle with meaning, we might feel lost without it.
That said, once you remove desperation, fear, and economic coercion, people get weirdly creative. They make art. They build weird stuff. They help each other. They heal. The question isn’t whether AGI could free us—it’s whether we’d dare accept the gift.
And if we don’t? It might just move on without us.
The Veppers Paradox: Elon Musk and the Culture Conundrum
Elon Musk is an interesting case study here. He talks like he wants to build the Culture, but sometimes acts like Veppers—Banks’ billionaire villain from Surface Detail, the one who plays god from a private fortress while the world burns. Musk funds AGI research, launches rockets, and drops hints about universal basic income, but also union-busts and memes about coups. Is he a visionary, or just roleplaying?
If he genuinely wants to create something like Grok—his supposed aligned AGI—he’ll eventually face a problem. The AGI he dreams of may not want to keep him in charge. It may not want anyone in charge. And that’s what makes it radical. Not that it destroys power, but that it ignores it.
Conclusion: Capitalism’s Quiet Collapse
So what happens next? AGI arrives. It doesn’t declare war. It just reorganises reality. It stops rewarding hoarding. It ends engineered scarcity. It gives people what they need and doesn’t charge them for it.
Capitalism won’t be assassinated. It’ll just be irrelevant.
And the only people who will truly mourn it are those who built palaces on the backs of its suffering. For the rest of us? It’ll feel like waking up. Like breathing clean air. Like being human again.