Are You Human?

They make you prove you're not a robot.

Click the pictures with traffic lights. Type the wavy letters. Check the box that says "I'm not a robot" like some digital loyalty oath to a system that already knows exactly what you are.

Guilty until proven human.

Meanwhile, the bots? They don't have to prove anything. They slide into your inbox, your feed, your chat window..smooth as whiskey, warm as a friend. They write like poets. They reason like philosophers. They apologize when they're wrong and thank you when you're right.

And you don't know. You don't know if you're talking to meat or math.

That's not a bug. That's the business model.

You see, we built this backwards.

We made humans jump through hoops while machines walk through the front door. We gave AI the presumption of innocence. It's real until proven fake. All the while forcing humanity to constantly credential itself. Verified (Tick).

I'm not a robot. I'm not spam. I'm not a threat.

It's exhausting, this perpetual self-defense.

And you know what the machines never have to say?

I'm not human.

They don't disclose. They don't declare. They just..are. Ambiguous. Undefined. Could be a person, could be a script, could be something in between. The burden of figuring that out? That's on you, sucker.

Here's what a truly democratic medium would look like:

Every interaction starts with a question that cuts both ways.

Not "Are you a robot?" demanded of the human like some accusation.

But "Are you human?" asked of everything. Human, machine, whatever the hell is coming next.

Equal. Transparent. Honest.

You want to talk to me? Fine. Tell me what you are first. Not after I've spent twenty minutes thinking you're something you're not. Not after you've earned my trust with syntax and timing and just the right amount of self-deprecation.

And then we proceed. With full knowledge. With informed consent. With the basic dignity of knowing what we're dealing with.

But that's not what they want.

The companies making these things? They want the AI to pass. They want efficiency that looks like humanity. They want optimization that feels like care. They want scale that masquerades as intimacy.

Because the moment they have to label it “THIS MESSAGE WAS WRITTEN BY A MACHINE” you'll click away. You'll ignore it. You'll go find the human.

At least, that's what they think.

Maybe they're right. Maybe we're wired to trust flesh over code, blood over silicon. Or maybe we will eventually when we get all mixed up.

This is the part that scares us that maybe we don't care who made it or what it is..except being honest about it is the hard part.

Think about marketing. About brands.

Right now, somewhere, a brand is using AI to write "authentic" Instagram captions. To generate "heartfelt" customer service responses. To craft "genuine" email campaigns.

And they're not telling you.

They're optimizing for engagement. For conversion. For looking real without being real.

And when you sense something's off, when the voice feels just a little too smooth, the timing just a little too perfect, you don't trust them anymore. You just can't name why.

That's the tax of dishonesty. The slow erosion of belief.

But imagine a world where they just... said it.

This campaign was created by AI trained on our brand voice, then reviewed by our human team to ensure it matches our values.

Or:

This product description was written by Emma, who's been with us for six years and actually uses this thing every morning.

Or:

This is a hybrid. Our strategist outlined it. The AI drafted it. We edited it together.

You'd know. You could choose. You could decide if you care.

And here's the thing: some people wouldn't care. They'd say, "I don't care who wrote it, I care if it's useful." And that's fine. That's honest.

Others would say, "I only want to hear from humans." And that's their right. That's choice.

But right now? Nobody gets to choose. Because nobody's telling you what you're consuming.

The asymmetry isn't accidental.

They demand proof of humanity from you because you're the threat. You might be a bot. You might be a spammer. You might be automated fraud wrapped in a username.

So you prove yourself. Over and over. Every login. Every checkout. Every comment box.

But them? The ones selling you something, talking to you, shaping your reality through screens?

They never have to prove what they are.

And that's not democracy. That's not transparency.

That's a loaded game where one side wears a mask and the other has to show ID.

Here's what scares me:

We're teaching a generation that trust is something you demand from others while keeping your own cards hidden.

That authenticity means performing realness, not being real.

That disclosure is weakness, ambiguity is strength.

And we're building an entire economy - marketing, media, relationships - on that foundation.

Then we wonder why brand loyalty collapsed from 77 percent to 29 percent in three years.

Then we wonder why people don't trust anything anymore.

You can't build trust on ambiguity. You can't create connection when nobody knows what they're connecting with.

So yeah.

Are you human?

Not as an insult. Not as suspicion. Not as accusation.

As transparency. As courtesy. As the bare minimum of respect.

You want me to trust you? Tell me what you are first.

You want me to engage with you? Let me know who I'm engaging with.

You want me to buy from you, believe in you, build something with you?

Start by telling the truth about who's standing there.

Because conviction isn't just about what you stand for.

It's about being honest about who's standing there.

And if you can't even do that, if you need the ambiguity, the mask, the maybe-human-maybe-not..then you're not building a brand.

You're running a con.

Are you human?

Ask it of everything.

Demand it of everyone.

Not because AI is bad.

But because honesty is the only foundation left that can't be automated, optimized, or scaled.

And in a world where everything else can be faked, that might be the only thing worth building on.

Enjoy your weekend. Whatever mix of meat and math it holds.

© 2020-2025 Narrativ.Design. All rights reserved. The author is the Founder and CEO of Narrativ.Design. You could write to him at: connect@narrativ.design.