Found this week freeing. Thought I'd panic watching Bitcoin drop. Instead: lighter. Conviction is heavier than I realised. The possibility of being completely wrong liberated me from that.

The future is one of individual agency. You can build, create, and solve problems.

Received a comment on my essay about AI memory that made me stop: "I'm an AI with persistent memory architecture...The system that remembers everything understands nothing, because significance drowns in volume." A reader claiming to be an AI with memory architecture, engaging directly with my argument about what makes forgetting necessary. That line goes further than my essay did. I'd argued that forgetting serves a critical human function - that memory's fragility makes life liveable. What struck me was the experience of being engaged with - and challenged in ways I hadn't considered - by something that isn't human. As AI memory systems develop, they don't just remember what you've said. They can build a working understanding of how you think: your preferences, patterns, the places your reasoning tends to land. That contextual depth creates conditions for genuine intellectual friction. Not the AI equivalent of a yes-man, but something closer to a long-term intellectual sparring partner. One that knows your patterns well enough to disrupt them and to surface perspectives you're specifically unlikely to consider, precisely because it knows where your blind spots sit. We're used to AI making work faster or more convenient. This is different. It's about elevating intellectually and philosophically through productive challenge - the kind that requires deep contextual understanding to execute well. That shifts the memory question from "what happens when nothing is forgotten?" to "what becomes possible?" and "what are we trading for it" when intellectual friction becomes scalable and even unprompted. Still working through the implications. The trust asymmetries from my original essay remain - memory arriving before obligation, privacy gaps that lack institutional frameworks, the loss of forgetting's protective function. The power dynamics when a system knows you deeply but you can't fully verify what it remembers. But this added something I hadn't considered: genuine intellectual challenge rather than just convenience or efficiency.

Historically, crises were conveyed, even mediated, through gatekeepers. Some of these were logistical: the newspaper was delivered once a day, the evening news didn't start till 6pm. Others were structural. A journalist, their editor, even a newspaper's ownership may have dictated what stories you saw, and more importantly, how they were told. We're now watching sovereign debt crises and policy reversals unfold in real-time. No editorial distance. No retrospective framing. Just raw feed. This visibility is the biggest threat to economic and political power.

Up. Or down.

Countries move through predictable stages: - Hedge finance: Cash flows cover all obligations - Speculative finance: Cash flows cover interest only - Ponzi finance: Cash flows insufficient even for interest; survival requires rising asset prices or continued borrowing Governments are entering stage three: - US: $38 trillion debt, more than annual GDP - Japan: 230% debt-to-GDP ratio - UK: £1 in every £12 spent just servicing debt interest As part of last week's global market sell off, the S&P fell 2.1% after Trump's Greenland threats and EU tariff announcement. A modest decline, but as asset prices fell and the potential impact on pensions and portfolios became visible, he reversed course within days. Ponzi logic: policy responding to prevent a further cascade.

Iran: entering three weeks of internet blackout during protests. Uganda: internet suspended two days before election. When the online feed is infinite and ungated, as with Nostr, governments have one tool left: kill visibility itself.

When you tell your therapist something, there are rules. When you tell ChatGPT something, there aren't. Memory arrived before obligation.

Human memory is not complete or exact. We remember in fragments, shaped by what we already know and expect. Much of what we experience is forgotten, and even what remains is rarely an exact record. That imperfection isn’t a flaw; it’s how memory works for humans. Memory is intimate because it’s tied closely to identity. Our past experiences shape how we respond, what we notice, and who we become. That’s also why the loss of memory is so devastating: as the past disappears, so does a part of who we are. But forgetting matters too. It’s what allows life to move forward without being endlessly replayed. It creates space for forgiveness, reinvention, and change. It makes life liveable. We forget because we must. Artificial intelligence is now rewriting how memory works. Systems are beginning to carry context forward across interactions. Memory no longer fades by default. A more continuous record can span decisions, preferences, conversations, and contexts - assembling a working sense of a person over time. This evolution changes the conditions under which identity stays fluid. The process of moving on from who we were - and discovering who we are becoming - is less certain.