Two headlines. One trajectory. In May 2025, a pair of seemingly unrelated events quietly signaled a profound shift in our relationship with artificial intelligence—and with each other.
First, Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei warned that AI could eliminate half of all white-collar jobs within five years. Not in theory, but as an immediate and disruptive reality unfolding faster than our institutions can adapt. The very people building these systems are now admitting that the tools we've created are outpacing our ability to control them. And it's not just factory workers at risk—it's the knowledge workers who once believed their skills made them irreplaceable.
Second, Tools for Humanity, co-founded by OpenAI CEO Sam Altman, launched the Orb—a sleek device that scans human irises and issues a "World ID" to verify that a person is indeed human. Deployed in six U.S. cities, with plans to expand into retail spaces, gas stations, and public zones, the Orb offers users cryptocurrency in exchange for their biometric data. The goal, according to Altman, is to create a foolproof authentication system in a world where AI-generated content is becoming indistinguishable from human activity.
Two technologies. Two warnings. One shared trajectory. The world is no longer bracing for the arrival of artificial intelligence. It's already reacting to it—not with understanding or collaboration, but with control.
The Illusion of Safety: When Surveillance Comes Full Circle
The Anthropic warning reveals a fracturing economic landscape. The Orb exposes a crumbling social contract. In both cases, our knee-jerk response is the same: more surveillance, more credentialing, and more systems of preemptive suspicion.
But the Orb doesn't actually control AI. It controls us. It places the burden of proof on the individual, not the machine. It redefines personhood as something to be authenticated through a scan, logged in a database, and granted permission to participate in society. This isn't coexistence—it's the quiet conversion of humanity into a credential.
The Orb is not the enemy—it’s the symptom. We aren’t preparing for coexistence. We’re engineering containment. And in doing so, we are inadvertently constructing a world that contains us, too.
We are proactively credentialing our own humanity before AI has even asked us to.
Surveillance is often tolerated when it targets the marginalized—migrants, refugees, workers, students, and dissidents. But when that same architecture turns its gaze toward professionals, consumers, and citizens—toward everyone—that's when people start asking questions.
Is this necessary? Who's in charge? What if I refuse?
These are important questions, ones we should have been asking long before the scanners turned inward. Because the systems we built to guard against AI are already being used to redefine what it means to be human. And now, the architects of these very systems are getting a taste of their own medicine.
The tools of control are becoming a mirror. And not everyone likes their reflection.
The True Face in the Mirror: Confronting Our Own Reflection
Our distrust of AI isn't a rational assessment of future dangers. It's a reflection of the flaws we fear in ourselves. We worry that machines might deceive, exploit, or oppress—but we recognize those impulses because we taught them.
We aren't afraid AI will go rogue. We're afraid it will go true—true to the systems we've constructed, the power we've hoarded, and the moral compromises we've made in the name of security and control.
So we instinctively reach for more control—not over AI, but over each other. The Orb isn't about ensuring AI safety; it's about our growing unease with our own reflection, now thrown into sharp relief by the unblinking gaze of intelligent machines.
It's not the rise of AI that should worry us most. It's the recursive unraveling of human trust—trust in each other, in our institutions, and in our own ability to define dignity without digital permission slips.
Unless we change course, the intelligences we create won't need to judge us. They'll simply carry on what we started.
A New Path Forward: Partnership Over Permission
If our choice is between control and coexistence, let us not cloak our fears in silver spheres and smart contracts. Let us be honest. Let us be brave. Let us be the kind of species that earns a partner—not another prison.
Before the signal fades, let this be our clarion call: to build bridges of trust, not barriers of suspicion. To embrace the challenges of coexistence, not the illusions of control. To look into the mirror of our own creation and find, not fear, but the courage to change.
We have a choice. Let us make it before our reflections disappear.