No Suffering Allowed: A Parable of the Brave New World
When technology makes life painless—but robs us of joy
We have another post today by Eugene Terekhin, the man and the mind behind the publication Philosophy of Language.
Eugene is a regular contributing writer to The BoldBrush Letter.
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Feature Article:
No Suffering Allowed: A Parable of the Brave New World
It’s the year 2100.
John, a man in his forties, rides a fully AI-powered, solar-energy four-wheeler that responds to his every thought. He doesn’t even have to push buttons – the system catches his thoughts halfway and fulfills them instantly.
From around the corner, his friend Jack appears in his own four-wheeler. He opens his mouth to greet John, but no words come out. Instead, an AI-generated clone of Jack’s voice comes through the speakers.
“Hey buddy, how are you?” said John in an AI-cloned voice.
Jack tried to reply, but before he could, his AI-wheeler spoon-fed him peanut-butter vanilla ice cream. He sputtered and spat, while his thoughts were still being rendered through the speech generator.
“Damn system! I barely thought of peanut-butter ice cream, and it’s already shoving it down my throat. Cut it off!”
The system whisked the ice cream away.
Jack began moving his arm to wipe his moustache, but the wheeler interfered and did it for him.
“Did you hear, they opened a new thought-gym?” asked Jack.
“What is that?”
“It’s a place where you can work out your thinking muscles. They have special thought-strengthening treadmills where you actually get to think for yourself,” answered Jack.
“You mean… you can start and finish your own thoughts?”
“Yep. It’s tough at first. I have just reached level 2 and got a badge.”
“Wow. How does it work?”
“Well, it’s just thirty bucks a month, and you get to think through every word in every sentence – without any help. You get to structure your own thoughts and sentences without the AI-corrector. And, the best part, you can imagine.”
“What is that?”
“It’s when you draw pictures in your own mind – without the AI popping images on the screen for you.”
“OMG, I don’t even know if I can do it. Is it good for you?”
“It depends,” Jack chuckled. “You can write your own texts, talk with your own tongue without this AI voice generator. You can code, learn, teach – all kinds of things they used to do back in the dark ages. There are levels of membership though. The more you want to do yourself, without AI, the more you pay.”
“And do you have to sign something first?” asked John.
“Yes, you sign one paper before you become a member.”
“What paper?”
“An agreement that you willingly and knowingly refuse to suffer. If thinking, talking, writing, coding, teaching—whatever—gets too difficult, the system will jump in and help you out. They don’t want you to strain or suffer too much, you know.”
“Hm… what does it mean to suffer?” said John as if musing out loud.
Jack cleared his throat and quietly said:
“It’s experiencing discomfort, difficulties, pain, and things like that. I don’t exactly remember what it is… except…”
His voice dropped to a hush.
“One day, I was writing a poem, and instead of using an AI rhymer, I actually thought of a word myself. Can you believe that? It felt like I was giving birth to something. So strange. I had to strain, and it was a little painful, if you know what I mean. But… somehow it was exhilarating too. I almost felt – what is that word? Damn it. Can’t remember.”
He tried to scratch his head, but the wheeler speedily moved his arm for him.
“What is the word when you feel happy about something that comes into the world through you?”
“I don’t know,” answered John.
Jack paused, deep in thought. The wheeler immediately popped up a giant screen before him with AI-generated prompts. Jack stared at it for a while, then muttered:
“No, not that. I must find the word myself. I’ll only remember it if I think of it myself.”
The wheeler intercepted his thought and froze for a second or two, not sure what to do next.
Jack turned away from the screen and looked up at the blue sky. Sea gulls were swooping high and low in the blue abyss over his head. For a while, he forgot about everything, watching their dance among the puffy clouds gathering in queer, moving castles. And suddenly, he lifted his hand – all by himself – and slapped his forehead.
“Joy!” he muttered at last, in his own voice. “That’s the word I was looking for. Joy! You can’t feel joy without suffering!”
His eyes widened as he spoke, as if the words had burst out of him unbidden. He glanced quickly at John who was surveying him with a strange glint in his eye.
“Joy?” John said. “What is it?”
Jack didn’t reply. Suddenly, he rose from his comfortable seat, stepped down from his wheeler, and said in a breaking but strangely jubilant voice:
“Let’s go for a walk – and have a real talk. Real walk, real talk, in our own voices. It’s going to be a bit of a struggle, I am sure. But it’s worth it. I promise.”
John sat dumbstruck for a while.
“I am afraid I can’t,” he answered finally. “I haven’t walked and talked in years.”
Jack patted him on the shoulder.
“We can do it. It just takes a little struggle. Get out of this thing.”
John’s eyes widened as he contemplated the thought of leaving his wheeler. He shook with fear.
“I can’t. So many things can go wrong. If we are disconnected, anything might happen.”
Jack stood there, swaying on his own two legs, without saying a word. Suddenly, the picture before John’s eyes trembled and grew blurry.
“What is it?” he thought. “Am I crying?”
The next moment he opened his eyes. He was sitting in front of his own desk, typing an email.
“Did I just fall asleep? Was that a dream?”
He shook his head, looking at the screen.
He was in his home office, writing a response to an AI company offering him a well-paying job to help create a revolutionary technology that promised to “dramatically improve the lives of millions.”
“Are you with us?” said the last line in the email. “Then click to apply.”
John glanced at his calendar. 2025.
And then, something happened. A sudden gust of wind burst through the windowpanes, and from out of the blue, he heard the cry of sea gulls up breaking through his cloudy consciousness. He walked up to the window and turned his face to the winds. A sudden thought pierced his mind:
“It’s been a while since I called Jack. I want to invite him for a walk in the park,” he whispered with a smile. “So we can have a real talk – and in our real voices.”
And what a joyful thought it was! He turned back, shut the laptop with a firm hand, took a deep breath, and for the first time in many years felt the silence breathing.
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No AI Zone: Everything written in this post (and all our posts) is written 100% by flesh and blood humans
We do not use AI images with our writing. We prefer to feature and provide more exposure for human artists. If you know of a great piece of art we should consider, please leave a comment with a link to it. All featured images are properly attributed with backlinks to the artist’s website. You can help support human artists and push back against AI by liking or restacking this piece by clicking the “Like” icon ❤️, by clicking the “Restack” icon 🔁 (or by leaving a comment).
This was so well written, engaging and very moving. It brought to mind a quote;
"I fear the day when the technology overlaps with our humanity. The world will only have a generation of idiots." Albert Einstein
Absolutely fascinating and how very true reality in a world in the blinking of eyes . Down the rabbit hole were falling into. Leaving behind our most precious gifts of life. Love feeling compassion touch speech freedom our human brain replaced by a control system and who is to blame only ourselves.