Accelerate or Die

Introduction

Since time immemorial, people have needed to project their emotions and materialize their inner worlds. In culture, this appeared on cave walls, papyri, and manuscripts. With the advent of the typewriter — and later, computers — information became more accessible and easier to store. But at the same time, it drifted further from the “human” and morphed into abstraction. A century ago, the idea that we’d be tapping out billions of characters per second with two fingers on a screen would have sounded absurd. Today, it’s commonplace.

The Abstraction of Culture

Throughout history, the informational “equation”—the balance between analog and digital—leaned toward the former. In our era, the scales have tipped: the digital now outweighs the material. We construct digital facsimiles of reality that you can neither touch nor smell, yet they accrue value nonetheless.

The Crisis of “Organic” Labor

Since the late 20th century—and especially in the 21st—automation has been “eating away” at the organic nature of work. It’s harder and harder to say, “I made this with my own hands.” Where once only rote tasks were automated, now “white-collar” roles and creative work are under the knife.

In programming, a phenomenon called Vibe Coding has emerged: a language model does the heavy lifting while the programmer plays curator. Those who once saw AI as merely a tool now wonder: are they even needed if the system can churn out the very code we spent years mastering in seconds? Can you claim the work as your own when a model writes the text or code, and you just watch?

This is the loss of organic labor that the Frankfurt School foretold. When a system can replace everything, labor uprisings won’t be revolts—they’ll be absorbed.

We’re witnessing the waning of material capital, giving way to digital capital and the exploitation of simulacra. Power now belongs to those who control the means of producing digital personalities. Embracing ethical, open-source alternatives is one way to push back against this new elite.

The Creativity Crisis

The crunch is especially brutal for creative professions—designers, artists, musicians. What remains of art if you can “generate” it with Midjourney in a couple of minutes? There’s no sublimation, no deep feeling, no authorial intent—just a wrapper at best fit for a café landing page background.

We’re heading into a world where the wrapper is the thing, surrounded by simulacra and commoditized formats. Open TikTok or YouTube and you’re faced with an endless stream of information fast food. Meanwhile, our minds develop not in depth, but in sheer distraction and consumption.

Paths Forward

Finding a concrete, non-manipulative recipe is tough, but I see a few directions:

  1. Focus on inner well-being and genuine emotion. What brings you joy in your work?
  2. Support open-source, volunteer initiatives, and grassroots movements over mega-corporations. Technology isn’t evil in itself—it matters who owns it. Ditch subscriptions to the giants and choose local or free alternatives.
  3. Invest in community rather than chasing corporate ladders. This way you can earn from your own creativity, not from an algorithm that has “chewed” it for you.

The problem isn’t technology itself, but who owns it and how it’s used. If we return to supporting communities and push automation into routine tasks, we’ll carve out space for genuine creativity and deep work. Otherwise, we’re doomed to the logic of “accelerate or die,” where people are valued only as long as they remain profitable—and then cast aside.

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This text is released into the public domain and may be used by anyone for any purpose.