The beginning of someone’s journal from a future corporate culture based on intentional communities. About 840 words or a 4 minute read.
2035, July, 11
I’m writing this journal, to chronicle my experience in cosmist collective 342.
We don’t get paid much, but we get a roof over our head, a nice plot of land, a cosmic mission and most importantly a close-knit community of friends and colleagues.
We all applied as we were tired of the rat race, multiple part-time jobs and freelancing following the trends.
Some people say it’s a weird eugenics experiment, since we all had to pass an IQ test to get in, except the support staff, who are all either old or queer. I heard rumors the support staff is selected to avoid discrimination legislation.
All-in-all I’m happy with my lot. Each of us was given a modular hexagonal tiny home, which we can tow around the residential area to be closer to our friends, and we can connect the homes if we get married. There are even a few extras for those of us that decide to have kids here.
We only have to work 8 hours a week, and get paid for up to 20, but not for more than 4 in any given day, which allows us to earn anywhere between half to twice the world average.
Every resident has a job to simultaneously advance the cosmist vision and support our community. For example, the gardener supports our community by providing us with fresh fruits and vegetables, and advances the cosmist vision because she trains and helps improve gardening robots.
2035, September 21
Bill was attacked, by a pruning robot. We suspect it was a hack, as we’ve been without a head of security for some months, since our previous one found the love of his life in a different collective.
Bill will live, but his ankle was damaged. Our doctor cleaned him up and got him stitched up with a factory reset unconnected stitching bot. She says it’ll be a few days before Bill will be able to put his full weight on that foot.
We’re in lockdown and have sent one of the support staff to get a security detail from the nearest collective, so we can get this sorted out.
Gabriel, our collective leader knows what to do. She has the company handbook memorized, and that thing is over a thousand pages long. She got seriously enhanced to get the job, because the minimum collective leader cutoff is 155, and only one in 10,000 natural humans reach that level. Some of the middle managers are enhanced also, as their cutoff is 135 (1 in a 100). For the rest of us the cutoff is 115 (1 in 6), so most people that can graduate university, can join us. I tested at 130, so could get into middle management even with some non-invasive enhancement.
Rumour has it that the Corporation, has an Superintelligent Artificial General Intelligence (SAGI) with an IQ of 180 which is running this whole thing. Sam my friend back in university believed in this crazy conspiracy theory that this corporation was an elaborate island model genetic algorithm by the SAGI.
If it’s true, I don’t want to know, I’m happy living here with my wife Lisa. Even if it was true, there is no way I’d be able to understand the SAGI. I barely understand Gabriel, and am quietly grateful that middle management rephrases everything, so us “normal” people can understand.
2035, September 23
We got lucky it seems. A security detail from head office was doing the rounds and we were next, so our support staff member met them en-route and told them what happened.
They spent most of yesterday taking us into our faraday cage quiet room for questioning. It’s supposed to be a place for people to go to be alone, relax and meditate, I’ve seen Gabriel use it a lot, in fact she got one for her personal use to free up the communal one. I was worried that now it would be a tainted place, people might not feel safe there anymore, but they put up a facade, and changed the color of the interior to an ominous red for the questioning, so it was like a whole different place.
On my way home from questioning I noticed Amy our gardener crying.
Ariel, transcribe the video feed from when she was questioned.
Ariel: I can’t do that for you Jim, it’s personal for Amy. Would you like me to ask her permission?
comment Ariel is my personal assistant, she is transcribing my voice now.
No Ariel, that’s alright, how about transcribing my feed from when I was talking to her yesterday?
2035 September 26
Ariel, I think the corporation planted that rogue training data. I believe Amy when she said they investigators story was made up.
Ariel: It is natural for you to protect your ingroup and project negative events onto an outgroup such as the Corporation. Astronauts have been known to do so, you are in good company. It may help you build camaraderie with Amy, but don’t let it taint your perspective on reality.