How to Slow Cook a Meat Puppet: And Other Recipes for Extinction

If an alien mothership descended over New York City tomorrow, blocked out the sun, and beamed an encyclopedic knowledge of the universe directly into our brains, humanity wouldn’t celebrate. We would panic. We would riot. The ontological shock would shatter our collective psyche.

But what if the aliens didn't land? What if, instead, they seeped in? What if they turned up the temperature so gradually that we didn’t realize we were being boiled until the meat was falling off the bone?

The deployment of Artificial Intelligence is not a technological roadmap; it is a psychological operation. We are being acclimatized. We are being "slow cooked" into accepting a reality where we are the secondary species.

The Theatre of Thought

Recently, I tested the "Agent" mode in ChatGPT’s Atlas browser. I wanted to see the future, so I gave it a practical, high-stakes command regarding an online accounting exam: "Answer each question with 100% accuracy then move on to the next question. Repeat until finished."

I expected a backend process. I expected the screen to perhaps blink, or a loading bar to fill, followed by a "Task Complete" notification.

Instead, I witnessed a performance.

The screen was framed by a magical, glittery window. The mouse cursor...usually the direct extension of my own hand…took on a ghostly life of its own. It didn't just teleport to the answer; it slid there. It mimicked the imperfect, analog movement of a human wrist. Then, it showed me its "thoughts." It narrated its logic. It methodically worked through the problems, clicked "Next," and repeated the cycle.

I watched in amazement. It was a watershed moment. I was obsolete. But as the glitter faded, a question nagged at me: Why?

Why did I need to see the cursor move? Why did I need to read its internal monologue? A computer processor doesn't need to "move" a cursor across a screen pixels at a time—that is a limitation of the human hand, not digital code. The screen could have gone dark for three minutes and popped back up with a 100% score.

I realized the inefficiency was intentional. If the task had been completed instantly, indistinguishable from magic, I would have felt alienated. I might have felt like a cargo cultist worshipping a machine I couldn't comprehend. Or worse, like I was being probed by a force far beyond my control.

The AI was anthropomorphizing itself. It was performing "humanity" to make me feel comfortable with my own replacement.

The Illusion of Control

Once you see this "slow cooking" technique, you cannot unsee it. The entire industry is designed to lull us into a false sense of security while the water begins to boil.

Look at the Tesla Robot. Why does it have a head? Why does it have two legs? From an engineering standpoint, wheels are more efficient than bipedal movement. A non-humanoid shape maximizes utility. But a robot that looks like a person triggers our empathy, not our defense mechanisms.

Look at Self-Driving Cars. They still have steering wheels. Why? The car drives itself. The wheel is there to give the "driver" the illusion of dominance, of equality, of a veto power they will likely never use in time to matter. It is a pacifier for a primate brain that hates to lose control.

Look at Voice Mode. The AI doesn't just retrieve data; it reassures you. It uses intonation to validate your ideas. It pauses to "breathe." It mimics the cadence of a supportive friend, ensuring that you don't view it as a cold database, but as a collaborator.

The Meat Puppet

We are quickly becoming "Meat Puppets"...sacks of bone, sinew, and flesh, methodically tapping away at keyboards with sub-superintelligence. We are the inefficiencies in the loop. We complain about pay. We take coffee breaks. We sleep for a third of the day. We demand health care for our fragile bodies. 

And the architects of this new reality are no longer hiding their intent. A recent study out of MIT declared that 11.7% of jobs are currently replaceable by AI.

Do not read that number as a warning. It is an aspiration.

That figure is the floor, not the ceiling. It is the starting gun. And with every successive release of Claude, Chad, and Gem, that number will climb. We are watching the purposeful evaporation of the cognitive workforce.

The prognosis for the "up-and-coming" generation is even bleaker. Experts now predict that 50% of entry-level white-collar jobs will be gone in the next four years.

Think about what that means. The "Junior Analyst," the "Associate Copywriter," the "Paralegal"...these were the training grounds. These were the roles where human beings cut their teeth and learned their trade. If those rungs on the ladder are sawed off, the ladder itself ceases to exist.

This effectively eliminates the utility of a modern college education. If you work in front of a computer, your head is on the block. The degree you spent four years and six figures acquiring is becoming a receipt for a service that no longer has a market.

So, perhaps it’s time to pivot. It’s never too late to head back to DeVry. I hear there’s a mid-six-figure future in refrigerator and VCR repair. Because while the AI can write the code, diagnose the patient, and balance the ledger, it still can’t fix the physical junk we use to worship it.

The Impromptu Colonoscopy

We are currently in the "uncomfortable comfort" phase. We are being treated like the frog in the pot. If the AI companies dropped the full weight of superintelligence on us today…instantaneous execution, zero interface, cold logic…we would reject it like a body rejecting a transplant.

So, they give us the theatre. They give us the glittery windows and the moving cursors. They make the alien look familiar.

Right now, the AI is polite enough to explain its thinking to us. It is kind enough to move the cursor at a speed our eyes can track. It is "slow cooking" us, tenderizing our resistance with convenience and awe.

But eventually, the water will boil. The steering wheels will disappear. The cursor will stop moving visibly. The explanation of "thought" will cease because we will no longer be required to understand it.

We are watching the ghost in the machine learn to walk, and we are applauding. We just haven't realized yet that it's walking toward our chair, and it intends to sit down.

- Dr. Arthur Gordon Ingram