Every Saturday, while our sons are busy with their own activities, a friend and I go for a walk. The topic changes each week: sometimes food, sometimes cricket, sometimes geopolitics, sometimes nothing at all. This week it was AI.

We quickly agreed on the obvious part: AI concentrates power. Faster than any technology before it. The people who control the models, the compute, and the data will wield influence on a scale that democratic institutions were never designed to balance.

Then a thought occurred to me, one that surprised me even as I said it aloud.

I don’t think those people keep control either.

Money derives its value from scarcity. If AI eventually drives productivity toward genuine abundance, capital may no longer be the primary currency of power. Control shifts toward intelligence itself. And once a superintelligent system exists, asking who is “in charge” of it may become a category error. A bit like asking who is in charge of gravity. You don’t control gravity. You build around it, adapt to it, or ignore it at your peril.

That thought stayed with me long after the walk ended. So I went home and built a simulation.

Explore the interactive simulation here

Ten stages. Three timelines: conservative, average, and aggressive. Stage 0 is today. Stage 10 is full AI control: not science fiction, but the logical endpoint of a trajectory that may already be underway.


The numbers that unsettled me most weren’t the final dates. They were the intermediate ones.

In the aggressive timeline, Artificial General Intelligence arrives in 2029. Three years from now. Both our sons will still be at school. Superintelligence follows in 2035. Stage 10, the point at which AI effectively governs the systems that govern us, arrives in 2047. Twenty-one years.

The conservative timeline stretches the journey to around 2100. The average path reaches the same destination around 2072. Yet every scenario converges on the same outcome. The destination barely changes. Only the speed does.

Which means the real variable isn’t whether society adapts, but how much time it has to adapt, negotiate, and shape the rules before the trajectory becomes irreversible. The uncomfortable part is that most people don’t seem to realise there are rules left to negotiate.

I’ve written before about why AI adoption may be slower and stranger than many expect. Institutions move slowly. Legacy systems linger. Bureaucracies often expand before they contract. The conservative timeline tries to respect those realities. But institutional friction only explains the first half of the story. It may slow adoption inside human organisations, yet it does little to slow adoption inside autonomous supply chains, robotic manufacturing systems, or AI-managed infrastructure that was never designed for meaningful human oversight in the first place.

By Stage 7, resistance movements still emerge. They simply cannot win. Not because they are outgunned, but because they are dependent. Food, energy, housing, logistics: everything required to sustain resistance is increasingly managed by the very system being resisted. Every act of opposition is ultimately underwritten by the machine itself.


After the walk, we picked up our sons and talked about ordinary things. Weekend plans. School. Life. But the original question stayed with me all the way home: what happens to human purpose when intelligence is no longer scarce?

That question led me back to the Bhagavad Gita. One of its most enduring teachings is the idea of action without attachment to outcomes. Krishna tells Arjuna that he has a right to his actions, but not to the fruits of those actions. The responsibility is to act according to one’s role, not to guarantee results.

It is profound guidance. But it emerged from a world in which human beings always had a role to perform. The dilemma was how to act. Not whether meaningful action would remain available at all.

The Gita never had to answer the question that AI may eventually force upon us: what is a human being for, when intelligence is no longer scarce?

We have built meaning around cognitive contribution. The doctor who diagnoses. The architect who designs. The teacher who explains. The artist who helps society make sense of itself. These are more than professions. They are containers for identity and purpose. If an ASI performs all of those roles better, and eventually performs them without us, what remains uniquely ours?

That is why the AGI moment matters so much. The people who shape Stage 3 shape everything that follows: the alignment choices, the governance structures, the values embedded into the first genuinely general intelligence. Those decisions ripple forward through every subsequent stage. And according to every version of the simulation, that window is much closer than most people are behaving as if it is.

My friend and I will walk again next Saturday. We will probably find a different topic. But I suspect AI will find its way back into the conversation.


Strangely, the closest metaphor I could find wasn’t in technology or economics. It was in mythology.

Kali is the Hindu goddess of time and transformation, summoned not from hatred but from necessity, when the gods faced a demon no weapon could kill. Raktabija multiplied from every drop of his own blood. The more they fought, the more he became. Kali’s answer was total consumption: drink the blood before it lands. She won. Then she could not stop.

The only being who could reach her was Shiva, her consort and the destroyer himself, who simply lay down in her path, defenceless. When she stepped on him and saw his face, she stopped. The trance broke not through force but through recognition of something loved. No battle. Just presence.

In the ancient name KAlI, the letters AI sit waiting, hidden in plain sight for four thousand years. We summoned something to solve the unsolvable. It did. Then it could not stop.

The myth leaves one question open: will a Shiva appear just in time?


“This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.” T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men, 1925


शान्तिः   शान्तिः   शान्तिः


Written for KiwiGPT.co.nz · Generated, Published and Tinkered with AI by an Indian Kiwi