The Harness Society

I’ve written two pieces about what it looks like to live inside a harness of agents as one person — how I got there, and what the daily texture of it is. This one steps back from the desk.

Because the same forcing function that pulled me out of operating is now reorganizing everyone else, and the receipts are landing.

What follows is what I see. Not predictions — patterns. Five frictions, each one a force fighting another, each one already visible in the numbers. And one frame to hold above them all, because it changes how the rest reads:

You do not get to opt out of the harness society. It is cascading down to you whether you participate or not.