The weekly reflections on the news in human-AI co-performances are brought to life via a story from the future of living with agentic things in the city.
Morning, with headlines
Maya scrolls the morning headlines with her thumb, the screen casting a cool light across the kitchen table. War, elections, the price of olives. She pauses on an explainer about last night’s late-breaking vote, unsure whether to be relieved or more worried. The bowl waits without hurrying her. Steam from the kettle curls into the air; the apartment is quiet enough that she can hear the street waking up one floor below.
She takes the first spoonful without looking, and something tart—briny almost—cuts through the cream. For a second she’s back at the small restaurant around the corner: the citrusy pickle that arrived unannounced between courses, the waiter’s shrug when she asked what was in it, the way the table’s conversation lifted after that bite. She smiles into her phone and only then notices the numbers stamped on the empty packets by the sink. She’s pretty sure she didn’t reach for those yesterday. Maybe she did. Maybe the hand just knows its own mind in the morning.
The bowl is larger than it needs to be at first, like a shallow pool that invites her to wander. As she eats, it seems to settle closer, drawing the edges in until each spoonful finds its way with less searching. She doesn’t think about it doing anything; it simply meets her pace. Between articles she checks a message from Raj—three photos of shoes lined up by a classroom door and a note: “Tried 4-11-6-2. The kids demolished it.” She glances back at her own numbers and thinks of the pickle again.
Outside, a siren flickers and fades. Another headline insists on certainty; another argues for the opposite. She decides she doesn’t buy either. A berry catches at the back of her tongue, not sweetness but the suggestion of it, like someone about to tell a story they’re not sure they should tell. She reads one more paragraph and pushes the phone away. The last spoonful is different from the first—less showy, more composed. She can’t say why.
At lunch she passes a café window and notices a tray of pastries dusted with something red. Not her usual place, not her usual hour. She almost goes in, doesn’t, makes a note to remember. On the train home, a stranger’s ringtone chimes a melody she can’t place, and for a moment the taste of the morning returns—bright, then gone.
In the evening she rinses the bowl and leaves it to dry, its little analog dial resting at a tick-mark she hasn’t learned to name. The new box on the counter has a small sticker she hasn’t seen before—a subtle upward arrow next to one of the numbers. Trend, or coincidence, or a hundred breakfasts elsewhere tugging on her own? She turns the sticker between her fingers and thinks of the article about the vote, of the pickle, of choosing without knowing exactly why.
Before bed, Raj sends a voice note: the field trip was a success, his daughter fell asleep before the train left the station. “Same combo tomorrow?” he asks. Maya doesn’t answer. In the morning, she’ll see what her hand reaches for. The headlines will argue again; the bowl will wait. Somewhere between them, the day will find its flavor.
July reflections: think with us: friction, agency, and the networked self
The speculative thing in this day-in-the-life story aims to embody the key themes I’ve been exploring this July via my newsletter Target is New. Claude (via Lex.page) explains the links between the story and the weekly columns.
Human-AI Partnership vs. Dependency: You consistently explore the tension between AI as a collaborative thinking partner versus AI as a replacement for human thinking. The phrase “think with us, not for us” captures this perfectly.
Necessary Friction: You argue against seamless, frictionless AI experiences, suggesting that certain types of friction (like explicitly telling an AI what you’re seeing) preserve human agency and engagement.
The Unseen/Unsaid: You explore how AI might relate to what’s not explicitly stated in data – the spaces between, the unspoken, the void that carries meaning in human experience.
Agency and Control: Throughout all entries, you question who controls the AI’s intentions and how we maintain human agency in our relationships with intelligent systems.
Networked Intelligence: You touch on moving beyond the individual to understanding intelligence as relational and networked between humans, technologies, and environments.
Day-in-the-life connected to the posts
Why does the day-in-the-life connect to the five posts? I asked my AI buddy (Lex.page using GPT-5).
Week 347: Think with us, not for us – Essence: Agency-preserving guidance.
The bowl suggests pace and possibilities (numbers, portion, timing) but leaves the choosing and meaning-making to Maya; it thinks alongside her, not instead of her.
Week 348: Articulated frictions for engaged presence — Essence: Friction as focus.
The numbered ritual and flavor surprises require small, intentional acts; the bowl waits for her lead, keeping the human as guide and making the experience felt, not automated.
Week 349: A void AI might make tangible — Essence: Sensing the unsaid.
Taste triggers memory (the pickle, the restaurant) and mood without explicit prompts; the bowl surfaces the in‑between—associations, not instructions—making the “void” perceptible.
Week 350: Paradox of ambient intelligence — Essence: Probabilities, not proclamations.
The quiet dial and subtle “trend” arrow communicate soft confidence rather than certainty; differences between first and last spoonful model calibrated, transparent uncertainty.
Week 351: Humanity in AI co‑performance — Essence: Networked choice without surrender.
Raj’s message, the shared trends, and Maya’s morning hand show co‑performance: individual agency braided with a social signal, neither outsourced nor isolated.
Shaping a speculative thing
I took inspiration for the speculative object from the Design Fiction WorkKit:
A sensor thing related to breakfast, with a retro chic feel, and has shrink/expand behavior. This is my prompt for my AI writing buddy1 to create a day in the life story above:
A special breakfast bowl offers a variety of combinations between yoghurt and ingredients, along with different variations. The subscription service is delivering a possible mix for a week, which can end up in many different variations. The ingredients are packaged in neutral-designed boxes with only numbers. Every morning, you choose a set of numbers based on a short conversation and sensing with the service, which checks your mood and the people sitting at the table (lonely, with family, functional, relaxing, etc.). The mix is not made by a set script but is generated based on all the users around the world. Depending on the popularity, the breakfast bowl is more or less filled, which will serve as an additional data point.
The service is not making the easiest bowl, but the one that is delivering the best experience, which is defined by the friction it unlocks, and the stories along.
Research through Design Fiction
With Cities of Things, we aim to envision the impact of living together with things that have agency, are agentic, or are autonomous in near-future cities. We explored concepts such as the Collect|Connect hub as an engaging “AI”-neighbor to orchestrate and support community life in neighborhoods. With Wijkbot, we created a kit for civic prototyping, possible futures, and impacts of living with intelligent and autonomous objects in our cities. Read more on our activities.
Combining capturing knowledge and creating inspirational artifacts is typical of what Cities of Things like to engage. By ourselves or as commissioned projects for students or workshops. Check out citiesofthings.org and hoodbot.net for examples, and reach out if you like to know more.
This example is just a quick impression that opens up more questions than it provides answers. Something that is always the right start.