The Served and the Unserved

A prediction ·

The Served and the Unserved

Around 2040, I expect 1.4 billion people to pay $500 a month for a bundle that makes them, by any older standard, superhuman. The other 7.8 billion will not have it. Every class division in history has been a relationship. This one will be a wall.

The new line, around 2040

  • 1.4 billion served
  • 7.8 billion unserved

Same planet. Same century. Different species of day.

Out of the roughly 9.2 billion people the United Nations expects to be alive in 2040. The price of admission is $500 a month, paid to one of five companies: OpenAI, SpaceX, Anthropic, Google or Meta. The numbers are my forecast. The principle underneath them is old.

Tuesday, 7:40 a.m. · 2040

Two women live on the same hallway and work at the same hospital. Their paychecks are close. Their mornings are not. The first one wakes to a finished list. Overnight, something disputed a billing error, moved her mother’s cardiology appointment to a better week, renewed her son’s passport, read the lease renewal and flagged two clauses, and called a car for 7:55. The second one wakes to the same list, undone. She will spend her lunch break on hold.

I wrote last week that SpaceX will sell a $500 monthly bill for the infrastructure of an ordinary day: connection, phone, intelligence, rides, a third place. I think it will have four serious competitors. OpenAI, Anthropic, Google and Meta will each start from a different strength, the conversation, the agent at work, the search, the glasses, and each will grow toward the same shape. One account. One price. Inside it, a connection that works anywhere on earth, an intelligence that acts instead of just answering, rides on call, a device on your face that sees and hears what you do, and a growing staff of agents that hold your accounts, your forms, your appointments and your arguments.

Any one of those is a convenience. Together they are something else. The bundled person speaks every language. Never waits on hold. Gets a second medical opinion in a minute and a contract read before it is signed. Never forgets a name or a promise. Is represented in every dispute. Gets work done while asleep. Describe that person to someone from 1990 and ask what to call them. They will not say customer. They will reach for the word from the comic books.

That is the part most people will notice. It is not the part that matters most.

Power always borrowed hands

Here is the principle, and it is older than any of these companies. Every advantage in human history has had to pass through other people’s hands.

A king could not plow his own fields, cook his own dinner, carry his own letters or fight his own wars. Every power he had was borrowed from someone below him. Adam Smith saw this in 1759, in The Theory of Moral Sentiments. The rich, he observed, eat little more than the poor. Their stomachs are no larger. To enjoy their wealth at all they must hire thousands of people, and so, without meaning to, they share it. That is the passage where his famous invisible hand appears.

This was the quiet restraint on every class system we have ever built. The lord needed the peasant. The mill owner needed the worker. The great house needed the cook, the driver, the nurse, the clerk. The have-nots were poor and often badly treated, but they were necessary, and necessary is a kind of power. It is where wages came from. It is where strikes came from. It is why the gap between rich and poor, however wide, was always a relationship and never a wall.

Figure 01

Where the hands go

Every division before

  1. The haves decide
  2. The hands of the have-nots do the work
  3. Outcomes

↺ Wages, and leverage, flow back down

The bundle

  1. The served decide
  2. The bundle does the work
  3. Outcomes

∅ Nothing flows to the unserved, who use their own two hands

An argument, not data. The left side describes every class system on record. The right side is my forecast of what changes when the staff is a subscription.

A division without a relationship

The bundle removes the hands. For the first time, the people on top of a class line can have a staff without employing anyone below it. The driver is a car. The secretary, the paralegal, the tutor, the night nurse watching the monitor are all inside the subscription. The $500 does not go to a neighbor. It goes to a data center.

This is what most of the conversation about AI and inequality misses. People expect the gap to widen, the way it does with every new technology, and they argue about how much. The deeper change is in kind, not degree. The old division was vertical: one class standing on another, and therefore holding it up. The new one is horizontal: two populations living side by side, one of which no longer needs the other for anything. A have-not used to be someone the haves depended on. In the bundled world, a have-not is simply someone who is not in it.

And something strange happens on the inside. A bundled nurse and a bundled billionaire will have nearly the same powers on an ordinary Tuesday. Money will still buy boats and islands. It will not buy a better doctor in your pocket, because there will be no better one to buy. The billionaire and the nurse will have more in common with each other than the nurse has with the woman across the hall. The line that matters stops being how much you have. It becomes whether you are in.

Wednesday, 10:15 a.m. · 2041

Small claims court, a county courthouse. One side’s agent filed the claim, gathered every receipt and message, found the three prior rulings that matter, and appeared on time with a clean summary for the judge. The other side is a man holding a paper notice he received three weeks ago and read yesterday. The judge is fair. The outcome is not close. Nobody in the room did anything wrong.

Five predictions

  1. “Bundled” becomes a class word.

    Before 2040 there will be a common word for being inside, the way connected, insured and college-educated each became sorting words in their time. It will show up on rental applications and dating profiles long before it shows up in any law.

  2. The bundle becomes the job benefit that matters.

    Employers will pay for it the way American employers pay for health insurance, because a bundled employee does the work of several. That makes losing a job worse than losing a paycheck. You lose your powers the same afternoon.

  3. Institutions quietly assume it.

    Courts, hospitals, schools, landlords and agencies will redesign around agents, because agents are faster and cheaper to serve. The paper form and the phone line will remain, the way a pay phone remains. The unserved will not be refused. They will be slowed.

  4. The price holds while the bundle grows.

    Competition will add capabilities faster than it cuts the price, because the companies will learn that the price is the membership and the membership is the product. The gate stays roughly where it is. The room behind it keeps getting bigger.

  5. Politics moves from wages to access.

    When the poor are no longer needed as hands, the old remedies, the strike, the raise, the minimum wage, lose their grip. The defining fight of the late 2030s will be over a public bundle: who pays for the 7.8 billion, whether a government version can be good enough, and whether being unserved is a private misfortune or a civil-rights problem.

Where I stand

I tell the twenty-four-year-olds I advise to keep their needs small. Rent, don’t buy. Ride, don’t own a car. Let your first employer be your first customer, which only works if you can afford to walk away from a bad one. I still believe every word of it. But I have started adding one exception. Cut everything except the leverage. If there is a single line in a young person’s budget that should not be trimmed, it is the one that makes them more than one person.

It is also why the room we opened in Charleston in January exists. It is for people who can feel this line forming and want to be on the near side of it before it hardens. I have written about the pieces before: the lines that disappear when the server can copy itself, and handing the decision itself to the machine. This is what those pieces look like when you add them up across a whole population and put a price on the door.

The claim ledger

Already true
The pieces exist, sold separately: satellite internet, phone plans, AI subscriptions that can act on your behalf, driverless rides in a handful of cities, glasses with an assistant inside. The largest AI companies already sell premium individual plans at prices most of the world would never consider paying.
What has to happen
One account has to bind the pieces, and its agents have to be allowed to act: sign, pay, file, appear. The price has to hold near $500 long enough to sort people. And about one person in seven alive around 2040 has to decide that the bundle is worth more than whatever else that money would buy.
Where I am probably wrong
The mobile phone. It began as a rich man’s toy and reached nearly everyone within a generation. If the full bundle falls to the price of a phone plan by the mid-2030s, then what I am describing is not a wall. It is a ramp, and the 7.8 billion are simply late. I think the bundle resists that fall because what it sells is not a device but labor, compute and rides and robots, and labor does not get cheap on the schedule of chips. If I am wrong about that, I am wrong about all of it, and gladly.

Go back to the hallway at 7:40 in the morning. Two women, one building, nearly the same paycheck. One of them has been working for an hour through a staff she has never met. The other is putting on her shoes. Nobody has done anything to her.

For the first time in history, nobody has to.

Background

Author: John Rector

John Rector is a Charleston-based entrepreneur, author, and AI strategist. He co-founded E2open, the supply-chain software company acquired for $2.1 billion in 2025, and in 2026 opened Charleston AI, a 3,000-square-foot lab that helps people and organizations understand and use artificial intelligence. He is the creator of The Reality Equation — a lecture series, book, and curriculum exploring attention, prediction, and how reality is experienced — and the author of more than two dozen books. He writes and speaks widely on artificial intelligence, attention, and the future of human work.

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