When AI Reigns, Will Billionaires Keep Us Around For Show?

The rise of artificial intelligence and advanced automation isn't just a technological shift; it's a societal earthquake. We're hurtling towards a future where the traditional need for human labor could drastically diminish, leaving a vast number of people without conventional employment.

But here's the unsettling thought that keeps me up at night: what happens to our societal structure when the very forces that traditionally bind us – economic necessity and shared purpose – begin to fray? While the general population grapples with the existential challenge of a workless future, the super-wealthy are on a different trajectory entirely.

Imagine a world where the ultra-rich aren't just richer, but also more powerful, living significantly longer, and even genetically enhanced. They're not just accumulating wealth; they're acquiring the keys to a potentially different evolutionary path, cementing their status at the absolute apex of existence.

Today, there's a certain unspoken dynamic at play. A significant portion of the global population, often referred to as "the poor" or "the working class," is, in a brutal economic sense, 'needed' by the super-rich. They serve as consumers, as labor (even if increasingly automated), and perhaps, in a more abstract way, as a benchmark. The existence of a vast majority struggling to get by can, for some, highlight the 'success' and 'superiority' of the elite.

But what happens when even that ceases to be true? When AI and automation can produce everything, perform all services, and manage all infrastructure with unparalleled efficiency, what purpose do the masses serve for the ultra-elite? If they can create their own perfect, automated paradises, why would they need or even tolerate the rest of us?

The question isn't just about jobs; it's about perceived value. Will the super-rich, detached and insulated in their advanced cocoons, still feel a need for a broader humanity? Or will they, perhaps, keep us around, not out of altruism or necessity, but for more... superficial reasons? To serve as a historical reference? As a fascinating, if somewhat pathetic, living exhibit of a bygone era? Or, as the original thought so provocatively suggested, simply to "feel better about themselves" by having a contrast?

It's a chilling prospect. The idea that humanity's future existence could hinge not on our inherent worth or contributions, but on the psychological needs of an omnipotent few, is a narrative straight out of dystopian fiction. Yet, as technology advances and wealth disparities widen, it's a question we might soon have to confront. What will be our enduring purpose in a world where the architects of tomorrow no longer 'need' us in any traditional sense?