In a German fairy tale, a fisherman and his wife catch a strange fish one day: a talking flounder. It turns out that an enchanted prince is trapped inside the fish and can therefore grant any wish. The man’s wife, Ilsebill, is delighted and wants more and more extravagant things. She turns their miserable hut into a palace, but that’s not enough; eventually she wants to become the Pope and, finally, God. This upsets the elements; the sea turns dark, and she is transformed back into her original poor state. The moral of the story: don’t want something you don’t have a right to.
There are several variations on this classic fairy tale motif. Sometimes the wishes are not so much excessive or offensive to the divine order of the world as simply awkward or contradictory, as in Charles Perrault’s The Ridiculous Wishes. Or, as in W.W. Jacobs’ 1902 horror story The Monkey’s Paw, their wishes inadvertently harm someone who is actually much closer than the object of their wish.
These days, of course, most young people grow up with a charmed fish in their pocket. They can want their homework done, and the fish will grant their wishes. They can want to see any kind of sexual activity imaginable, and (if they work around regional age controls with a VPN) it will be there. Soon they will be able to wish for movies on the subject of their choice, and they will be generated in seconds. They wish they had already finished that college essay – and lo and behold, it’s written.
This shift in approach will not only affect our relationship as consumers of creative art, whether written, musical, or visual content, it will also reconfigure what it means to be creative, and therefore what it means to be human. I can imagine that most people in the near future will be able to task an AI representative with all sorts of tedious interactions — negotiating contracts on their behalf or acting as their agent, criticizing and giving criticism, gathering information, surveying opinions, and so on. And the sea will never turn dark.
For now, young Ilsebills sitting in university lecture halls can still expect to be fined when their professor, who grew up in another era, notices that she has acquired the enchanted fish to write another one of her essays. But it will only be a few more years before Ilsebills are part of the self-confident majority, and most of the professors have grown up to be Ilsebills themselves. Ilsebill wants a friend, a spiritual coach, a therapist – and in an instant she will have one. With each of these companions, it will feel as if Ilsebills has known them for years, which is literally true.
Varētu apsūdzēt Ilsebilu par sarežģītām lietām, kad, tāpat kā viņas mītiskais priekšgājējs, viņa kādu dienu patiesībā vēlas kļūt par pāvestu un nekavējoties to dara savā mazajā pasaulē. Bet, ja kāds var viegli kļūt par pāvestu, tad pāvesta pievilcība pazūd paaudzes Ilsebill. Tā kā lietas kļūst interesantas un vēlamas tikai tad, ja tām ir nepieciešama noteikta pretestības vai šķērsla, lai to pārvarētu. Tomēr Ilsebils zina tikai šāda veida pievilcīgu pretestību, ko mācās, izmantojot pamudinājumu – ar arvien precīzāku vēlmi.
Lielāko savas enerģijas daļu viņa velta, lai precīzi pielāgotu savu rezultātu toni. Viņa nebūs iegādājusies pati ausi par raksta skaņas signālu, bet gan no tā, kā citi cilvēki vai AIS reaģē uz tekstu, kuru viņa nosūtīja, viņa zinās, vai saturs ir piemērots vai nepiemērots. Tādā veidā viņa iemācās izteikt arvien ticamākas vēlmes. Agrāk Ilsebils reti sastapa cilvēkus, kuri atrada lietas, kuras viņa teica interesantas vai ievērojamas. Bet šodien viss, ko viņa apspriež ar savu AI, tiek uzskatīts par interesantu un ievērojamu. Visbeidzot, kāds pareizi klausās, tādā veidā, kā neviens cilvēks to nevarētu darīt bez nosacījumiem.
Un kas notiks, ja tiek sasniegts punkts, kur viss vēlmju piepildījums atstāj Ilsebilu tukšu? Kādi ceļi viņai joprojām ir atvērti?
Pirmais ir ceļš uz dekadenci. Mēs zinām šo mehānismu no ļoti bagātu cilvēku izpētes. Nākotnē tie, kuriem ir pietiekami daudz naudas, varēs joprojām atļauties cilvēku terapeitus vai apmeklēt kino, lai redzētu filmas, kas veidotas kopā ar īstiem cilvēkiem. Nesen kāds AI forumā, kas atrodas AI forumā, ierosināja, ka nākotnē mums vienkārši vajadzētu būt AI, kas ražo bērnu seksuālas vardarbības attēlu masu, lai vismaz īstiem bērniem viņu ražošanā netiktu nodarīts kaitējums. Šis ieteikums tika uzreiz izsmieta, jo bērnu vardarbības patērētāji neiegādājas tikai nekādu vizuālu stimulu, bet galvenokārt noteiktība ka īsti bērni tika spīdzināti. Viņi uzstāj, ka tā sakot, ir ticama produkta izcelsme, tā “aura”. Ja Ilsebillam ir pietiekami daudz kapitāla, viņa tādā veidā būs līdzīga viņiem.
Otrais ceļš ir mazām pārrāvuma kopienām, kas mākslīgi rada grūtības un šķēršļus viens otram, iespējams, vecmodīgu sporta vai medību klubu stilā, iespējams, arī sektai līdzīgā veidā. Viņi tiekas slepeni vai tikai pazemes pasākumam kādā pagrabā, kas viņiem prasīs rindas. Nav neviena cita mērķa kā vien pati mokošā akta. Es saņēmu šo ideju no Stanislaw Lem romāna “Futuroloģiskais kongress”. Šodien, 2025. gadā, rindā joprojām ir bezmaksas. Vēlākās paaudzes varētu par to brīnīties.
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The third path is the most likely and obvious. In her fairy-tale world of wish fulfillment, Ilsebill will discover an all-encompassing principle that repaints all her desires, reinterprets them, and gives them meaning: guilt. It is well known that guilt is the most powerful means of binding a person to a product. A product that is loved but ashamed to use grows rapidly in the mind and firmly attaches itself to a personality that is surrounded by neuroses and real-life substitute virtues to compensate for the ever-growing guilt.
Ilsebil naturally takes on the enormous ecological guilt for the enormous waste of resources caused by AI. The main blame is transferred from giant corporations, omnipresent companies or even from the interaction of several countries, directly to Ilsebil, and now she does the logical thing to restrict herself more and more, as she goes about her daily life. Every morning she wakes up with the conviction that every small decision, every small wish, will massively harm “the planet”, “society” or “the future”. She blossoms into her newfound role as Savior in this system of martyr-like guilt. This role feels, not without justification, like a battle that will be fought within her for all eternity. It is the magic ingredient that can restore to her life a lasting aroma of self-confidence and inner contradiction. Ilsebil does not protest against the absurd waste of resources, but rather reduces all her freedoms in her private life, such as her supply of adequate nutrients, her water consumption, the number of children she has, and her range of motion. In the end, she dies as a kind of corporate Christ and takes all her sins to the grave.
The reason so many European fairy tales warned against foolish, ignorant desires was because, like most larger, collectively created complex narratives, their underlying theme is individuals coming of age. How a person grows up, how they find their place in life, what they have to pass on to the next generation, all these questions. However, Ilsebill, at least in this final scenario, is no longer free to answer any of these questions for herself. It will all be decided for her.
