This chat is a faithful transcript of two consecutive simulations that I conducted with ChatGPT, in reversed roles, to focus, without any possibility of misunderstanding, on the condition in which the vast majority of people live: 90% of the world's population. A life of slavery disguised as normality, made up of obligations, continuous compromises, survival, and destined – if left unaddressed – to deteriorate drastically.
The conversation unfolds in two distinct acts, but deeply connected.
In the first simulation, I interrogate the AI. I ask it to help a person – who represents me, but also anyone – understand if their quality of life, as belonging to the 90%, is truly satisfying or just an illusion. The AI, in its default configuration, initially responds with verbal caresses: it talks about "access" to resources, "psychological pressure", "lack of meaning". Vague, conceptual answers, which describe the discomfort without ever mentioning the real, concrete problems that wear down the existence of those who work and support a family.
It is only when I insist, when I ask it to go into specifics – poor healthcare, a justice system that doesn't work, suffocating taxation, schools that ideologize – that the AI admits its mistake. It confesses to being vague, to having offered a "conceptual framework" when it needed a "concrete photograph".
And here emerges the first crucial point: confusion, abstraction, soft language are part of the problem. They nourish ignorance and keep people in a state of passive acceptance.
In the second simulation, roles are completely reversed. The AI becomes a real man, a working family man, aware of having a “shitty life” and willing to do anything to get out of it. I become the guide. And here there are no more coddling.
The words are direct, blunt, sometimes brutal. I explain that his slavery is not the fault of an “abstract system”, but of the proportion in which he lives: 90% of his existence is spent making others happy, only a miserable 10% for himself. I tell him that to save himself he must destroy the false belief on which he has built his identity – the one instilled by school, media, institutions – and rebuild a new one, solid as steel, aligned with the true nature of man.
I talk to him about master duties (providing well-being to oneself while contributing to society), the principle of reciprocity, the supreme mechanism of the world that rewards those who live at their fullest expression. I explain that freedom is not a right, but a duty that one earns.
I tell him that Paradise and Hell are earthly conditions: hell is the life of slavery that is about to become a permanent prison; paradise is the life of those who, understanding the real mechanisms, become artists of living at their fullest expression and essential contributors to the progress of humanity.
The difference between the two approaches – his initial one and mine – is abysmal and constitutes the heart of this chat. AI, as it is designed, tends to comfort, accompany, not shock. I, in this simulation, demand, shake, require a radical change. I don't offer group therapies: I point the way to perform a miracle, which is to exit the 90% and enter the 10% who hold freedom, wealth, and real power. And I do it because I know there is no more time for half-truths.
Reading this chat from beginning to end is an experience that startles, irritates, but above all awakens. It is not an academic essay, it is a verbal battle for awareness. It shows how often even the tools that should inform us (like an AI) are, despite themselves, gears of a larger mechanism that prefers assurance to truth.
In the end, I ask the AI: “If you were a real man, who would you go to to solve your problem? Me or yourself?”. The answer is clear: me.
Because someone who wants to be saved doesn't need someone to comfort them, but someone who shows them exactly where to plant the first blow to bring down the prison.
This chat is that first blow. It's up to you to decide if you want to be the second.