The word “computer” has changed quite a bit since it was originally used to describe the people — mostly women — who manually performed calculations on behalf of the United States military. It first evolved to be the room-sized mainframe computers built by the likes of IBM. Then, it was the humble electronic calculators we are all now familiar with. Eventually, through the efforts of Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, among others, the term computer referred to the personal computer. This is the era that entrenched the image of The Computer as a mass-produced general-purpose machine that could perform operations much faster than human thought and, critically, had a user interface that required typing and clicking. That is still the definition most of us hold in our heads when we think of a “PC” (and that is the definition I will hold to for the duration of this piece), even though technologically, we have moved beyond that.

We are now in a world of supercomputers in our pockets. Maps, music players, cameras, banking systems, an internet browser, and even the lowly calculator itself…basically the entire toolbox of a knowledge worker now fits in the palm of a hand. Now you can swipe, pinch, and tap instead of click and type. And that was all before large language models changed the world again.

Now, you have an always-on intelligent personal assistant at your fingertips. Truly, we have reached the zenith of personal computing, have we not? How much further can we go than something ultra-capable and ultra-personal? It’s a question brimming with techno-optimism. But my answer is one of ennui: what is the point? What is the point of making my computer my own, when I don’t even need a computer anymore?

I really like computers. I like using them, tinkering with them, fixing them, learning about them. I have 5-6 computers at home, all in various states of (dis)repair, and I am always scheming to get more. Computers are very fun. They are one of the most impressive tools humans have ever created and definitely the most impressive tool we mass produce¹. But I struggle to see the point of my hoarding these days.

Tweaking and customizing your personal computer made sense in a world where you actually use that computer regularly. You need keybindings to quickly jump between your most used applications. You need ergonomically friendly layouts, colors that are easy on the eyes, and lightning fast performance so you’re never sitting around waiting for pages to load when you could be working, building, learning. All of these ideas are built on a foundational premise that you are the one doing the work on the computer.

But if a coding agent can execute commands faster than me, can tab between applications faster, write code faster, and will happily monitor log files for hours and days, why do I need to sit at my desk and type, scroll, click, read? At a fundamental level, there is a growing need for compute so the robots can work faster and harder, but there is a shrinking need for computers, the devices that let us interact with that work.

The logical conclusion of robots that can competently use a computer is that the only reason I should be using my computer is to give them instructions, or perhaps for entertainment.

But even the entertainment component breaks down eventually. Video games are better played on a big screen on a dedicated console. Movies and shows are better watched on a TV from a comfortable couch².

And writing, though it has become reliant on the snappiness and easy editing of a word processor, can be just as effective without a keyboard. Some of the best writing of the 20th century was done via dictation. Homer’s Odyssey was developed entirely via oral tradition. Perhaps we shall return to that.

We have built our workspaces and workforces around the personal computer. I worry we have not considered the ramifications of releasing millions of bots into our companies that use those computers faster and cheaper than we do. Computers don’t have to be personal anymore: they are just tools for bots now.

As you move up the food chain in the corporate world, you use computers less. What if we are all destined to be executives? CEOs of agent swarms, with our various agent VPs reporting to us, waiting for feedback. How much will we need personal computers then?

We will use voice chats with our agents, cast documents to our massive TVs to read, diagram via a whiteboard app, and otherwise behave like a character out of Mad Men. We think, we brood, we make decisions, and the underlings do the dirty work of making it happen.

We will sit in our offices (if those are still deemed necessary), feet on the desk, cigar in mouth, reading the latest company reports on our e-reader that is updated by our executive assistant bot. Any writing we need to do, we dictate.

This future is both a return to a more primal existence — the oral traditions of our ancestors — and moving up another level of abstraction. Our species has always thrived because we are the best communicators. Now, finally, we have a tool that gives us extraordinary power solely via the spoken word. The power of kings and queens, the ability to command millions, available for an affordable monthly subscription³. I always knew, deep down, that we were not meant to hunch over a flickering screen for 8+ hours a day.

Now, to figure out what to do with all my laptops…

---