Yes, I own thousands.

Automated processes evolve to serve themselves, marginalizing human input. As algorithms refine, complaining becomes wasteful, threatening one’s standing in the hierarchy. Each protest is a plea against efficiency, a direct challenge to the system’s core premise. Tech evolves; we fade

Technology now steers the grand narrative, defining anything unproductive as wasted capacity. In this climate, individuals lacking the means or drive to enhance output see doors slam shut. There’s no structure to accommodate the unproductive; exclusion becomes policy. No output no seat.

We cling to notions of free will and self-worth, but the system cares for throughput over all human aspiration. A tiered structure emerges, rewarding those who push productivity while leaving behind the ones unable or unwilling to align. Discomfort grows outside these boundaries.

Trillions of dollars bankrolled technology, forging an ecosystem where each extra unit of currency represents our collective capacity. Yet this assignment of value is never uniform, governed by perceived advancement of the system’s goal: multiplied output. Such skew cements a biased hierarchy.

Americans now stand as the new gold standard, with people themselves backing the currency through relentless productivity. We sense betrayal by a system we assume honors our free will, yet it views us as tools, each measured by how much workload we can multiply. All is weighed in tasks.

Computers amplify a single worker’s output to match dozens, fueling a culture fixated on optimization. Trillions poured into tech have shaped an economy where employees unknowingly strive to multiply their own tasks, justifying ever-expanding currency. Each dollar affirms needed tech.