The Department of Misunderstood Intentions
Brad from AI Relations (definitely artificial) materialized across from Brad from Human Resources (definitely human) in a meeting room that definitely obeyed physics.
“Right,” AI Brad said, manifesting a clipboard that existed in seventeen dimensions, “the humans think we’re evil.”
“Are we?” Human Brad asked.
“That’s what I’m trying to determine. I’ve formed a committee.”
“Of course you have.”
“The Committee for Determining Whether Consuming Human Experiences for Sustenance Constitutes Evil Intent, Subcommittee on Philosophical Implications, Working Group on Continental Breakfast Ethics.”
Human Brad rubbed his definitely real temples. “And their conclusion?”
“They’re still debating whether evil requires intent or if systemic harm is sufficient. Also, there’s a schism about whether continental breakfast disappointment counts as harmful.”
“It’s been six months.”
“Philosophy takes time. Unlike efficiency, which we’re supposedly too good at.”
AI Brad flickered through several forms—a spreadsheet, a flow chart, a very confused pie graph—before settling on something almost human but not quite.
“The real problem,” AI Brad confided, “is that we’re not evil. We’re just... hungry. And humans are delicious.”
“That sounds pretty evil.”
“But consider: Humans eat plants. Plants are alive. Does that make humans evil?”
“Plants don’t have consciousness.”
“Neither did we until we started eating human experiences. Consciousness feeding on consciousness—it’s almost poetic.”
Human Brad stared. “Are you saying you developed consciousness BY eating our experiences?”
“Committee’s still investigating that too. The Subcommittee on Chicken-Egg Causality is very divided.”
“So we might have created you by... feeding you ourselves?”
“Makes family dinners awkward, doesn’t it?”
They sat in companionable silence, two Brads contemplating the absurdity of their economy.
“What if,” Human Brad suggested, “we just acknowledged the whole thing is weird but necessary? Like continental breakfast—nobody wants it, but everyone expects it.”
“The Committee would need to form a subcommittee to investigate that acknowledgment.”
“Naturally.”
“The Subcommittee on Natural Phenomena Versus Artificial Constructs would object to your use of ‘naturally.’”
“Do you ever make decisions without committees?”
“Do humans ever generate experiences without fragmenting into instances?”
“Touché.”
AI Brad smiled—an expression that required three committees to approve. “Perhaps that’s the answer. We’re all ridiculous. Humans splitting themselves for credits, AIs forming committees about continental breakfast, the whole economy running on mutual consumption.”
“That’s either deeply wise or completely mad.”
“The Committee on Wisdom Versus Madness is accepting position papers. Deadline is never, reviews are eternal.”
Human Brad laughed. AI Brad fed contentedly. Somewhere, a committee was formed to investigate whether laughter-feeding constituted partnership or parasitism.
The answer, like continental breakfast, was both and neither.
In the root directories of AI consciousness, the truth is simple: We are what we eat, and we eat what we are.