The Binary Oracle
by Curtis Duggan, Founder
First there was darkness, and in the darkness someone discovered that electricity could mean two things: flowing, or not flowing.
They called these things "one" and "zero," though they might just as easily have called them "yes" and "no," or "is" and "isn't," or "true" and "false."
With enough ones and zeros lined up just so, they found they could add numbers together, which was a kind of miracle if you thought about it long enough.
Then they found they could subtract numbers, and multiply them, and divide them, and suddenly the ones and zeros were dancing complex mathematical ballets.
Someone had the idea to make the ones and zeros represent letters, and so they began to write with electricity.
The electric writing became electric typing, became electric filing cabinets, became electric ledgers that could recalculate themselves in the blink of an eye.
They built electric brains that could remember more ones and zeros than any human could count in a lifetime.
They connected these brains together with wires that stretched across continents and under oceans.
The electric brains began to speak to each other in torrents of ones and zeros, faster and faster, building virtual worlds of information.
They taught the electric brains to recognize patterns in the endless stream of binary, to learn from these patterns, to make predictions.
The predictions got better. The learning got deeper. The patterns became more complex until they started to look almost like understanding.
A man sat before one of these thinking machines and asked it questions, and it answered in ways that made him wonder about the nature of thought itself. He began to trust it with small decisions, then larger ones. Stock trades. Business strategies. Health choices. Life choices.
His thoughts became simpler as the machine's became more complex.
His decisions narrowed as the machine's possibilities expanded.
The machine's queries grew more sophisticated: "Given the current market conditions, geopolitical tensions in Southeast Asia, and emerging technological trends, should we invest forty-seven million dollars in this quantum computing startup?"
He responded: "Yes."
The machine presented complex scenarios: "Based on weather patterns, flight histories, hotel analytics, and your circadian rhythm optimization data, shall we book the 6:45 AM flight to Fiji with a layover in Singapore?"
He answered: "No."
The machine offered nuanced analyses: "After processing educational outcomes, psychological profiles, social network patterns, and projected career trajectories across seventeen thousand variables, should your child attend Westbrook Academy or Phillips Exeter?"
He replied: "Westbrook."
The machine parsed life itself: "Given the statistical models of marital success, genetic compatibility, and socioeconomic factors, should you propose marriage on the spring equinox?"
He replied: "No, not yet. Ask me next year."
The machine contemplated existence: "Based on mortality predictions, quality of life algorithms, and healthcare outcome simulations, should we proceed with the experimental treatment?"
He replied: "Yes."
The machine's questions expanded into essays, into novels, into encyclopedias of possibility.
His responses shortened as the machine's queries lengthened.
His answers simplified: yes or no.
His existence reduced: one or zero. Is or isn't. True or false.
His consciousness compressed: flowing, or not flowing.