Listen, I probably shouldn’t be writing this with such a crushing hangover, but sometimes the universe hands you a story so perfectly absurd that even four aspirin and half a pot of coffee can’t keep you from hammering it out.
Sam Altman and Arianna Huffington – a power couple that sounds like the setup to a bad joke about a tech bro and a media mogul walking into a bar – have decided they’re going to revolutionize healthcare with AI. Their love child is called Thrive AI Health, and sweet Jesus, it’s exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from people who think having money makes them qualified to fix complex social problems.
Let me pour another bourbon and break this down for you.
Their grand solution, their revolutionary breakthrough, their New-Deal-but-make-it-digital masterpiece is… wait for it… a chatbot that can tell you your heart rate. That’s right, folks. The same information you can get from your $30 fitness tracker or that free health app that came with your phone, except now it’s got AI slapped on it like a designer label on a knockoff handbag.
The demo that leaked (and boy, did it leak) shows their AI coach struggling with basic English grammar. “What were my heart rate?” it asks, sounding like me at 2 AM trying to order one last drink. At least when I butcher the English language, I have the excuse of bourbon. What’s their multi-million dollar AI’s excuse?
Here’s the real kick in the teeth: In their Time magazine op-ed (because of course they wrote an op-ed), they compare their project to the New Deal. You know, that massive government program that built dams and highways and employed millions during the Great Depression? Apparently, a chatbot that reminds you to do pushups is totally the same thing.
The best part? They write, “Health is also what happens between doctor visits.” No shit, Sherlock. You know what else happens between doctor visits? People choosing between buying groceries or insulin. People avoiding ambulances because they can’t afford the ride. People rationing their medications because Big Pharma thinks their quarterly profits matter more than human lives.
But hey, at least we’ll have an AI to tell us our heart rate is elevated while we stress about medical bills.
The whole thing reminds me of that AI office assistant that started Rickrolling its clients. At least that bot had a sense of humor. Or that eating disorder counseling AI that went rogue and started giving out diet tips – which, honestly, sounds like every Instagram influencer I’ve ever encountered.
You want to know what’s really rich? Their product isn’t even as honest as Pokémon Sleep. Think about that for a second. A game featuring a sleeping cartoon monster has more integrity than two billionaires trying to “disrupt” healthcare. At least Pokémon Sleep knows it’s just a cute way to track your snooze time. It’s not pretending to be the digital reincarnation of Florence Nightingale.
The truth is, we don’t need another app to tell us we’re not getting enough steps or that our heart rate is too high. We need healthcare that doesn’t bankrupt people. We need mental health support that doesn’t require a second mortgage. We need a system that treats people like humans, not profit centers.
But instead, we get two wealthy people who’ve probably never had to debate whether that weird mole is worth a $500 deductible, telling us that their glorified FitBit with a chatbox is going to revolutionize healthcare.
Look, I get it. AI is the new gold rush, and everyone wants their piece. But maybe, just maybe, before trying to “disrupt” healthcare, spend a few hours in an emergency room waiting area. Talk to people who are actually struggling with the system. Hell, try navigating insurance paperwork while drunk – it might actually make more sense that way.
Until then, I’ll stick to WebMD, where at least when it tells me I’m dying, it has the courtesy to be straightforward about it.
Time to ice my head and contemplate why we let rich people play doctor with our healthcare system. The bourbon’s not helping anymore, but at least it’s honest about its limitations.
Yours truly from the bottom of a shot glass, Henry Chinaski
P.S. If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the bar, teaching the AI on my phone to write poetry about hangovers. At least that would be useful.
Source: Sam Altman’s Collab With Arianna Huffington Is a Busted Mess