"WHO MADE WHO?"

 

Who made who?

A philosophical and scary question: In a world run by machines, who is really in charge?

In the song "who made who" by ACDC: "If you made them and they made you / Who picked up the bill and who made who?" suggest a circular dependency. We build technology to serve us, but then we become so dependent on it that the technology starts to dictate how we live.

Lines like "The databank knows my number" and "Kick you 'round the world, there ain't a thing that it can't do" reflect the feeling of being a "cog in the machine." It touches on the fear of being tracked, numbered, and controlled by the very things we invented.

While written in the 80s about early computers and video games, the song feels even more relevant today with the rise of AI and automation. The song warns that the machines we make might eventually "make" us.

The song’s core question—"Who picked up the bill?"—is brilliant because it moves the conversation from technology to economics and power. We built AI to solve complex problems and automate drudgery. We have restructured our entire society to accommodate the needs of the machine. We don't just use GPS; we’ve lost the innate ability to navigate without it. We don't just use algorithms; we reshape our personalities and businesses to be "favored" by them.We are no longer just the users of technology; we are the raw material for it. In a sense, the AI is "making" us by curating our reality and nudging our behaviors. If a machine determines what news you see, what products you buy, and who you interact with, are you still the one "in charge"?

We are currently in the "fine-tuning" phase of humanity, where our biological evolution is being outpaced by our technological "enhancements."

Are we human trying to become a machine, or a machine trying desperately to be human?

We built the tools to give us more time, but we've ended up spending all our time serving the tools. If we are the ones who programmed the "rules" of the world, but the machines are the ones who enforce them, where do you think the "off switch" actually resides—in the hardware, or in our own willingness to unplug?

If you were to pull the plug on the global "databank" today, the result wouldn't just be a lack of TikTok; it would be a total collapse of logistics, food distribution, and communication.

This suggests the off switch is effectively deadlocked.

We keep the machines on because we literally cannot survive without them anymore. We keep them on because we’ve outsourced our dopamine, our memories, and our sense of direction to them.If a machine curates your reality, it isn't just a tool; it’s a perceptual lens. If the lens is tinted red, you see a red world. If the algorithm is tuned for outrage, you become an outraged person. In that sense, the machine "makes" the man.

The "off switch" resides in cognitive sovereignty.

It’s the rare, difficult choice to be "inefficient" in a world that demands optimization. To use a map instead of GPS, to read a book instead of a feed, or to have a thought that hasn't been nudged by an LLM.We aren't just the users; we are the architects of our own cage. The scary part isn't that the machines will rebel—it's that we will continue to volunteer for the upgrade until there’s nothing left to turn off.