Zuri woke as the first pale hints of dawn filtered through the dense canopy above. Her back was stiff from sleeping on the bare ground, softened only by a bed of gathered leaves. A thin mist clung to the jungle floor, cool against her skin as she rose quietly. Around her, the others stirred slowly, each emerging from simple shelters of woven branches and foliage.
She stretched, feeling each muscle complain softly from weeks of constant effort. It was good pain - the kind earned by hard work and real living. In the months since she’d arrived, her senses had sharpened remarkably. She could hear subtle rustlings of small creatures nearby, the distant calls of birds greeting the morning, and smell the rich earthiness of the jungle waking up.
Kato was already crouched by the remnants of last night’s fire, coaxing a tiny flame back to life. He’d been here for many years. Zuri joined him, handing him some dry leaves she’d gathered.
“Sleep okay?” Kato asked quietly, eyes fixed on the growing flame.
“Like a log,” Zuri replied, smiling. “Even on the ground.”
Kato grinned back. “Amazing what you can get used to, eh?”
Breakfast was simple - fruits gathered yesterday, nuts cracked open with rocks, water collected from the clear, running stream nearby. Hunger made each bite tasted rich and full. Without distractions, Zuri felt every sensation deeply. The sweetness of the fruit, the satisfying crunch of nuts, even the slight bitterness of the stream water - it was all so very vivid.
There were seven in their group, living as closely as a small pack. They moved together, slept together, shared resources freely, stronger as a collective. Trust had formed quickly among them, bonds strengthened through shared hardships and successes.
“Time for meat today,” Kato announced once everyone had eaten. The group murmured agreement. Fruit and nuts were satisfying enough, but after several days without meat, their bodies yearned for richer sustenance.
Together they prepared efficiently, tying sharpened spears to their backs, double-checking their minimal gear. Kato led the way, stepping confidently into the thick undergrowth. They moved quietly, communicating mostly through gestures and quick glances.
Zuri’s bare feet sank into the cool earth, toes gripping instinctively with each careful step. She enjoyed the rhythm of their collective movement, the shared purpose binding them silently together. The jungle was a symphony of sounds, smells, and shifting shadows that had quickly become familiar. Everything felt clearer here.
After nearly an hour, Kato paused, signalling silence. He pointed ahead.
“Tapir,” he whispered softly, barely audible even in the stillness. His eagerness was palpable, picked up and amplified by the group.
The group spread out instinctively, moving slowly and deliberately to form a loose circle around their prey. Zuri took a deep breath, her pulse quickening. She had begun to feel the rhythm of the hunt - a dance of patience and precision. Adrenaline sharpened her vision, made every sound louder, every movement purposeful.
Just as Zuri felt perfectly attuned to her surroundings, a sudden harsh snapping noise cracked through the silence, accompanied by Kato’s sharp gasp. She spun around.
Kato lay sprawled among tangled roots, clutching his ankle, pain etched deeply on his face.
“Severe sprain, possible minor fracture. You’ll need to immobilise his ankle,” Mila’s calm voice informed Zuri quietly via her earpiece. It was the first time she’d heard her personal AI talk since her arrival and it caught her off guard. Glancing around, she saw brief surprise flicker around the group and a few others spring into action.
Zuri knelt beside Kato, gently examining his visibly-swelling ankle.
“Let’s prevent this from moving around,” she said. Kato nodded, teeth gritted.
“Remove his foot sleeve carefully. Use two sturdy sticks and strips of cloth to form a splint,” Mila instructed. “Then elevate the ankle and cool it with water for five minutes.”
Quickly, Zuri got to work. One of the group handed her two short sticks and another some torn strips of their T shirt. With Mila’s discreet guidance, she carefully splinted Kato’s ankle, the group watching silently and assisting as needed. Yet another member returned from a nearby stream with a full canteen of water to provide cooling relief.
“Looks like we’re done hunting today,” Zuri announced after the five minutes was up. The others nodded, moving closer to help Kato stand. Leaning on them, he began the slow, careful journey back to camp.
Upon reaching their campsite, they found a neatly packaged medical kit waiting for them, containing an ankle support brace and analgesic spray. Zuri smiled to herself, grateful for the discreet intervention.
Kato grimaced as Zuri carefully fitted the support brace onto his ankle, but sighed in relief as she applied the painkiller with a reassuring nod.
“Sorry about the hunt,” Kato murmured apologetically.
Zuri smiled at him. “Better hungry and safe than reckless and hurt. Though I was really looking forward to a big plateful of delicious meat.“ On cue, her stomach rumbled loudly.
The group laughed warmly and then groaned theatrically, settling back into their simple shelters. Everyone had been reminded of the careful balance they maintained - living close to nature yet supported quietly by unseen technology.
Analysis
Writing these future fiction scenarios, I’ve developed a sense that when AI truly becomes pervasive, it will recede into the background of daily living. Novelty becomes commonplace. Capability becomes assumed. Once everyone’s basic needs are met through abundance, what happens to us humans?
Some argue that we’ll face a crisis of identity and meaning, but I think that is predicated on the assumption that working to provide for ourselves - humanity’s lifelong struggle - defines us somehow correctly or nobly. This view assumes that providing for ourselves is our core path to create value or meaning. But what if that’s only a historical pattern, not a universal truth?
Some argue that we’ll become indolent, our minds settling for a constant stream of dopamine-inducing content snacks. The past decade has really amped up sources of engaging distraction and created a booming creator/consumer economy. It’s still a form of work: you watch, I get paid. In a world of abundance and leisure, what’s there to be distracted from, exactly? Why, as a creator, am I trying to distract you?
Yet others fear that we will become disconnected from each other, drawn ever deeper into solipsistic escapism (FDVR for example. Also Waifus). But that seems like a dim and ungenerous view of humankind. Perhaps some will tread this path for a while. I imagine many will dabble and find they don’t have a lasting need for it.
I believe what will happen is that most people will find themselves in a state of incredibly safe and deep physical and mental boredom which will naturally sprout our need for connection, activity and creativity. Look to 1980s Britain, when young adults faced mass unemployment but with a relatively generous welfare support system that gave them adequate financial security with little time limit. A generation of artists, writers and musicians emerged, because they found creative ways to counter boredom and despair. Of course, it wasn’t all good times. But we can hopefully remove the despair component from this equation.
Bending this analysis gently toward the story, many people nowadays find ways to test themselves against nature - from a weekend hike through to extreme survival challenges. The thrill of physicality and calculated vulnerability lets us shrug off the conveniences, comforts and necessities of modern life in order to appreciate them anew. My story follows Zuri, who has recently chosen to spend some time living primally, joining others like Kato who has lived like this for many years.
The key factor here is choice, which evaporates any threat of despair. AI guardrails can provide an imperfect but highly effective safety net. One can imagine pervasive AI supporting the whole system, silently smoothing out the rough edges, maintaining ecological balance, drawing compatible groups together, keeping parents and friends in the loop, providing training wheels until individuals find their comfort zone. And of course, swiftly intervening if needed - the drone-delivered medical kit being an example.
Ultimately we are biological entities, able to experience the cold wash of adrenaline through our brain mass and the rhythmic ache of sore muscles that delivered us hard-won gains. Imagine a world where - if desired - we can tap into our evolutionary instincts, living directly in and off the natural world. Perhaps young adults will thrill at the prospect of primal living as a rite of passage grounding them in our natural ecosystem, learning to connect, be active and think creatively in order to survive. Not to succeed by modern standards, but to experience what it means to be human in the deepest, oldest way.