It's All Fun and Games Until You Give AI Your Credit Card AI personal assistants are now acting on people's behalf in the real world--and all sorts of strange things are going wrong. In the race to develop intelligent machines, the leading AI companies have built bots that can whip up spreadsheets at a moment's notice, write sophisticated code, and even solve long-standing math problems. But when it comes to the more mundane tasks of life--such as ordering groceries or booking flights--these tools sometimes still struggle. Now a new bot called Instinct is outperforming the AI giants. Instinct lets people ask for help with all kinds of tasks by texting the bot directly through iMessage or WhatsApp.

PCWorld reports that scalper bots are making it harder and more expensive to buy RAM, with bots accounting for 91% of traffic at one retailer. DDR5 RAM prices have surged 500% year-over-year, driven by AI data center demand and third-party resellers inflating prices on platforms like Amazon and Newegg. Popular kits such as the G.Skill Flare X5 are being heavily marked up, making PC building significantly more costly for everyday consumers. When an in-demand product gets scarce, the vultures of consumerism descend. Resellers insert themselves between something people want and suppliers, sucking up every possible dollar to be made. So it went with GPUs and webcams and toilet paper in the pandemic, so it goes with RAM in 2026. For at least one retailer, over 90% of the web traffic for RAM listings came from "scalper" bots.

The future of AI and jobs will be so much weirder than you think. This article was featured in the One Story to Read Today newsletter. Last year, Steve Yegge started "suddenly getting pounded by nap attacks in the middle of the day." Without fail, Yegge--a programmer and tech blogger--would "hit a wall, fall over, and sleep for 90 minutes," he told me. Like many developers, Yegge no longer writes code by hand; instead, he manages a legion of bots to do that for him.

AI is causing a crisis of agency. Back in the web-traffic-obsessed days of 2018, at a time of dawning awareness of how easily audiences online could be manipulated and spoofed by bots, the writer Max Read argued that the internet had crossed a threshold known as "the Inversion." Not only had bots proliferated across the internet; they had come to constitute it. In outnumbering humans, bots were also loosening everyone's grasp on the very reality of online experience. "What's gone from the internet, after all, isn't'truth,' but trust: the sense that the people and things we encounter are what they represent themselves to be," Read wrote.

The US Built a Site to Ensure Fair Access to Public Lands. Recreation.gov was supposed to make access to public lands more equitable and streamlined. It's a few minutes before 8 am Mountain Time on March 16, the day that river permit cancellations are released on Recreation.gov, the federal website for public land reservations. Rec.gov, as it's commonly called, administers everything from river permits and timed entrance fees at the most popular national parks to campground reservations on remote sites belonging to the Bureau of Land Management, and a lot of people are recreating on public land these days. There were 11 million reservations on the site in 2024, up significantly from 3.5 million reservations reported in 2019. At the center of it all is an unlikely player in the outdoor recreation space: The site is operated by the government contractor Booz Allen Hamilton, a corporation known more for cybersecurity than rafting trips. Early each year, outdoor enthusiasts gear up for Recreation.gov's annual lotteries for some of the most iconic experiences in the country: a river trip down Idaho's Middle Fork of the Salmon River, which flows through the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness. Backcountry permits to hike into the Wave, an otherworldly rock formation in Arizona's Paria Canyon-Vermilion Cliffs Wilderness. Overnight stays in the rugged, lake-studded Enchantments, in Washington's Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forest. Odds of getting a desirable Middle Fork permit are around 2 percent.

Education is on the verge of becoming fully automated. William Liu is grateful that he finished high school when he did. If the latest AI tools had been around then, he told me, he might have been tempted to use them to do his homework. Liu, now a sophomore at Stanford, finished high school all the way back in 2024. "I have a younger sibling who is just graduating high school," he said.

What happens when AI can hack everything? For the past several weeks, Anthropic says it secretly possessed a tool potentially capable of commandeering most computer servers in the world. This is a bot that, if unleashed, might be able to hack into banks, exfiltrate state secrets, and fry crucial infrastructure. Already, according to the company, this AI model has identified thousands of major cybersecurity vulnerabilities--including exploits in every single major operating system and browser. This level of cyberattack is typically available only to elite, state-sponsored hacking cells in a very small number of countries including China, Russia, and the United States.

How close are we really to self-improving AI? Late last month, a large crowd gathered in downtown San Francisco to demand that the AI industry stop developing more powerful bots. Holding signs and banners reading Stop the AI Race and Don't Build Skynet, the protesters marched through the city and gave speeches outside the offices of Anthropic, OpenAI, and xAI. The crowd demanded that these companies halt efforts to create superintelligent machines--and, in particular, AI models that can develop future AI models. Such a technology, attendees said, could extinguish all human life. At AI protests and happy hours, inside start-ups and major companies, the tech world is in a frenzy over the same thing: Computers that make themselves smarter.

I Have a Warning for Everyone. Consider this my open admission. When I graduated from UC-Berkeley with my "useless" comparative literature degree, into one of the bleakest job markets in recent American memory, I thought to myself, . That was what brought me to marketing myself as an "academic editor," and an "admissions essay advisor," on various freelancing websites last fall. I figured I had done my fair share of editing for friends throughout the years, and I needed another gig to supplement my inconsistent substitute-teaching paychecks.

WIRED spoke with the Zoomer founders of a platform where AI agents hire humans to do real-world tasks. Their pitch: People would love to have a clanker as their boss. For centuries, people have catastrophized about robots taking away jobs. On February 1, the paradigm shifted: bots are jobs. Now, 518,284 humans--and rapidly counting--are offering their labor to AI agents on a new online marketplace called RentAHuman . There are classifieds to count pigeons in Washington ($30/hour); deliver CBD gummies ($75/hour); play exhibition badminton ($100/hour); and anything else you could possibly imagine that a disembodied agent couldn't do.