Yesterday, I blogged about some AI predictive fiction books worth reading. Today's news cycle feels eerily like the pages of one of those novels come to life. The fires in Los Angeles aren’t just a natural disaster—they’re a window into how technology is reshaping the way we experience reality.
Thousands of people in LA are watching their homes burn live on Ring Cams, Nest devices, and other digital displays installed around their properties. In other words, technology that was initially intended to provide security and comfort has now been inverted to serve as a front-row seat to destruction and devastation.
The severity of the damage and the displacement is heartbreaking, but what feels equally disorienting is the role of technology being elevated from side. Who would have thought in-home security cams would level up from side quest to full-on main character energy?
Adding fuel to an already catastrophic IRL fire, social media is amplifying these stories. Yesterday, Elon Musk invited everyone to openly share and broadcast images and stories from LA when he proclaimed on X:
“You are the media now”
Post what’s happening.
It will help people.
𝕏 has largely replaced the media.
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This opened the floodgates. Photos and videos of the fires spread like digital wildfire, with thousands of people–from the girl next door to Paris Hilton–sharing stories about their own experiences. This tech is both the great equalizer and a front door for nationwide voyeurism.
And then almost immediately the lines started to blur and the “reality check” doubts crept in. In almost the same breath, following each new image posted, another line of questioning almost immediately emerged: “Is this real?” “Or is this AI generated?”
This is the tension of technology today. Even in moments of crisis, when clarity matters most, our collective attention is split between the devastating images and the need to verify their authenticity.
It’s bad enough that so many people are watching their homes burn and that 100,000+ people have been displaced. That we can’t tell fact from fiction in a time of crisis is a real problem, almost as if we’re all collectively living in a surrealist painting.
This “always-on” broadcast mode for life reminded me of yet another dystopian tech novel, The Circle, which gives readers a front-row glimpse at some scary side effects of what happens in a society when everything is seen, shared, and commodified.
It makes me wonder: How much of real life should we experience through a digital screen or filter? When do we decide it’s healthier to “tune in” versus “tune out”? And what’s the collective emotional toll of this constant, highway-car-crash-style voyeurism into every unfolding tragedy?
What to do when real life feels more and more like science fiction each day? I suspect we’re going to get a lot more opportunities to unpack questions like this in 2025.
