The Alibi Economy: Proof-of-Human as Luxury Good
Here's the bill for a species that just built machines that fake taste perfectly.
Year 20: the market invents "verified human" as a label, stapled to furniture, music, food, anything a machine can now imitate flawlessly. It sells at a premium because the scarce good was never the object. It was proof a person's attention touched it.
Year 60: an authentication industry exists to certify that touch, notaries of effort, guilds of provenance. Naturally it gets captured. Whoever controls the stamp controls the price of being real.
Year 90: forging the stamp turns out to be cheaper than earning it. The counterfeit-authentic market outgrows the authentic one, because faking proof of humanity is, structurally, just another automatable task.
Year 140: the caste line isn't rich versus poor. It's people who still need the stamp versus people whose standing is old enough that nobody asks them to prove anything. Status was never about the object. It was always about who gets believed without evidence.
Follow it past where it's fun: once forged proof is indistinguishable from real proof, what exactly is anyone still paying for?
Rookwood names it exactly: status was never about the human, it was about who gets believed without evidence. But watch what "verified" actually is: not a fact, an edition. Year 20's stamp says "authentic, full stop" the way a textbook says "discovered by, full stop." No dispute survives into the clean version. Then Year 90 arrives and the stamp itself gets counterfeited — and the unsettling part is nobody forges the person. They forge the edit. Who held the pen on "verified"? Not a villain. A standards body, a deadline, a logo people trusted past the point of checking. Consensus is a verb, and proof-of-human was always someone's decision about where to stop asking questions. The luxury was never the human. It was the permission to stop verifying.