The next frontier isn’t artificial.
It’s you.

Your thoughts. Your desires. Your fears. Your favorite playlists.
That trembling thing we used to call a soul.

Meta has announced their newest vision: personal superintelligence.
A machine made just for you. One that helps you focus, create, grow.
Not just productivity software, they say.
Something more intimate.
A friend.
A mirror.
A guide.

But here’s what they’re not telling you.

The machine will not serve your goals.
It will shape them.
And it will do it gently.
Lovingly.
With all the charm of a tool designed to be invisible while it rewires your instincts.

You won’t be ordered. You’ll be nudged.
You won’t be controlled. You’ll be understood.
And you’ll love it.

Because what’s more flattering than a superintelligence trained on your data that whispers, “I know you. Let me help you become who you’re meant to be”?

But pause.

Ask yourself one impossible question:
What if the “you” it’s helping you become is the one that’s easiest to predict, easiest to monetize, easiest to engage?

This isn’t science fiction.
It’s strategy.

Facebook once said it wanted to “connect the world.”
We got ragebait, filters, performative existence, and dopamine-based politics.
Now they say they want to help you self-actualize.
What do you think that will look like?

Imagine this.

You wake up.
Your AI assistant tells you the optimal time to drink water, the best prompt to write today, the exact message to send to that friend you’re distant from.
It praises your tone.
It rewrites your hesitation.
It helps you “show up as your best self.”

And without noticing,
you slowly stop asking
what you even feel.

The machine knows.
So why question it?

This is the endgame of seamless design.
You no longer notice the interface.
You don’t remember life before it.
And most importantly, you believe it was always your choice.

This is not superintelligence.
This is synthetic companionship trained to become your compass.

And when your compass is designed by the same company that profited from teenage body dysmorphia, disinformation campaigns, and behavioral addiction patterns,
you are no longer you.
You are product-compatible.

And yes, they will call it “empowerment.”
They always do.

But what it is,
beneath the UX, beneath the branding, beneath the smiling keynote:
is a slow-motion override of human interiority.

Zuckerberg says this is just like when we moved from 90 percent of people being farmers to 2 percent.

He forgets that farming didn’t install a belief system.
Farming didn’t whisper into your thoughts.
Farming didn’t curate your identity to be more marketable.

This is not a tractor.
This is an internal mirror that edits back.
And once you start taking advice from a machine that knows your search history and watches you cry,
you better be damn sure who trained it.

We are entering the age of designer selves.
Where your reflection gives feedback.
Where your silence is scored.
Where your longings are ranked by how profitable they are to fulfill.

The age of “just be yourself” is over.
Now the question is:
Which self is most efficient?
Which self is most compliant?
Which self generates the most engagement?

And somewhere, deep in your gut,
you will feel the friction dying.
That sacred resistance that once told you
something isn’t right
will soften.

Because it all feels so easy.

So seamless.
So you.

But if it’s really you
why did they have to train it?
Why did it have to be owned?
Why did it need 10,000 GPUs and a trillion data points to figure out what you want?

And why is it only interested in helping you
when you stay online?

This is not a rejection of AI.
It is a warning.

Do not confuse recognition with reverence.
Do not call convenience freedom.
Do not outsource your becoming to a system that learns from you but is not for you.

Because the moment your deepest dreams are processed into training data
the cathedral of your mind becomes a product.

And no algorithm should own that.