When a Childhood Prophecy Starts to Feel Real

 

Sniped from a diary page

I remember when we were growing up, there was a pseudo-scientific prediction about the future of the human species. I never figured out the original source — it might have been part imagination, part street folklore, part schoolyard “research.”

It was during the time we were being introduced to evolution, natural selection, adaptation — so these predictions slipped easily and convincingly into our young minds.

The prophecy was that someday human bodies would turn spherical from inactivity, while our heads would grow bigger because the brain would be working harder than ever.

The idea was simple: as technology advanced, humans wouldn’t need to work. Machines would do everything. Physical effort would vanish, and as a result, the limbs would slowly lose their purpose and shape. The new human would look like two spheres.

Strangely, it all sounded perfectly logical back then.

Fast forward to November 2025 — Elon Musk, at the US–Saudi Business Forum, predicted that in just 10–20 years, work might become optional. A hobby, he said. Something you’d do the way you grow tomatoes on your balcony — because you want to, not because you have to.

So yes, a part of that childhood prophecy seems to be inching toward reality. “Optional work” doesn’t sound like fiction anymore.

But unfortunately, the other half of the prophecy seems to be drifting in the opposite direction. Instead of thinking more, we’re slowly outsourcing thinking.

We have been drifting away from simple, brain-engaging activities as basic as writing letters. Half the fun was lost when emails replaced handwritten letters, and now my Gmail wants me to reply with emojis. Not sentences. Not thoughts. Not even words.

Just… symbols.

And when I insist on writing a few words, it tries to finish them too — almost nudging: “Leave it to me.”

Meanwhile, AI is drafting reports, taking minutes, generating action items, telling stories, solving math problems, translating languages — almost thinking on our behalf.

It’s strange. We once imagined a future where our brains expanded and became more powerful. Instead, our expressions are shrinking — and so is the brain’s engagement.

So when Gmail offers me an emoji as a reply, I pause.
Not because I dislike emojis, but because I wonder what we slowly lose when we stop forming thoughts… and slip toward symbol-based communication, almost like walking backwards into a pre-language era.

If work becomes optional someday, that’s fine.
But thinking — that should remain non-negotiable.

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