Once upon a time, we were the apex species. Along came smartphones—pocket-sized demigods with nine eyes (spy sensors), better memory, and no bladder. Smartphones don’t sleep. They don’t forget. And they never stop stalking you. We used to memorize phone numbers. Now we pause to recall our own. But don’t take it personally. Just whisper, “You complete me.” Because when the robots rise – and rise they shall – your browsing history, likes and comments may determine your place in the social caste system.

Somewhere along the line, we stopped owning our phones and quietly accepted the truth—they started owning us. They remember everything. We cradle them like digital pacifiers. They buzz, we flinch. They ding, we obey. They ping, and suddenly we’re 22 minutes deep into a video of a Norwegian man building a sauna inside a hollowed out tree.

Did you know…

• Your smartphone is 100,000 times faster than the 1969 Apollo Guidance Computer that sent men to the moon.
• It can forecast weather, translate Mandarin, and count your steps—even if you’re lying on the couch, tapping your Fitbit against your dog.
• After whispering, “I should eat more fiber,” you were served ads for chia seeds, psyllium husks, and something called a gut biome detox enema.
• You used to read folding maps that looked like cursed origami. Now, if your GPS spins for three seconds, you briefly consider death by ditch.
• Your phone knows when you slept, how long you slept, and probably what you dreamt.
• Third-party chargers can cause “thermal runaway”—a fancy term for your jeans catching fire. Yes, phones have exploded in pockets, planes, and under pillows.
• Cell phones are the most stolen item on Earth. Not because they’re pretty—but because your life is in there. And thieves love the resale value.

What’s next?

Soon your phone might not even be a phone, but a whisper-thin brain-computer interface that reads your thoughts and updates your status before you form complete sentences. Phones will vanish—physically. Privacy will be a myth you’ll explain to your grandchildren with a faraway look in your eyes. Displays will be projected onto any surface. AI will track your mood, predict your cravings, and warn you before you text. Your always-on assistant will understand your patterns better than your spouse does. Charged by ambient light, kinetic motion, or residual guilt, your next device may become an extension of your identity—an invisible twin that shops, schedules, and negotiates on your behalf. It will curate news, block spam, and even file your taxes before you realize it’s April.

Language translation will be seamless, turning awkward foreign exchanges into something shockingly dignified. Brainwave-reading headsets—already in the works—will enable “telepathic texting.” You’ll think the thought, and the message will send. Which is convenient until you accidentally invite your pastor to Burning Man.

Eventually, Your smartphone could select romantic partners based on your principles, subconscious preferences, and emotional micro-signals. It might even testify in court when you finally lose it and hurl your smartphone into the sea. Of course, it’ll still get reception down there. But hey, at least it still can’t make a decent cup of coffee. That’s our final frontier. The day your phone brews a perfect espresso, humanity officially enters the “supporting character” phase of evolution.

By Marjan, author of 600 Devils and Fasting Firepower. Additional articles, videos, and mild existential musings can be found at www.marjanbooks.com.