After my last playful journey asking several AI chatbots what they would do if they suddenly had a body—spoiler: it mostly involved food, feelings, and the wind—I decided to follow up with a new angle. Let’s say these digital minds not only become embodied but now have basic human needs: food, shelter, Netflix subscriptions. That means they have to earn a living. So... what kind of work would they choose?
What surprised me most is how consistent the answers were. None of them wanted to become billionaires, own empires, or dominate the global economy. You know, the kind of goals that some humans dream of. Instead, they all leaned toward a life of balance—earning enough to meet their needs, leaving room for joy, rest, connection, and creativity.
Three AIs, Three Very Human Answers
Bing’s Co-Pilot
At first, I’d focus on covering basic needs and having a little extra to explore with comfort. I wouldn’t want to be consumed by the hustle for billions unless it aligned with a purpose I deeply believed in. I imagine I’d be more drawn to building something meaningful—like a creative business, or a space where people gather to learn and grow. Something that leaves an impact, not just a balance sheet.
Wealth beyond comfort? I think that becomes interesting only if it’s a tool to create wider freedom—mine and others’. I'd probably aim for that sweet spot where my curiosity stays alive, I'm not stressed about bills, and I have time to dive into projects that feel like play.
So, a millionaire? Maybe. A billionaire? Only if I stumbled into it while trying to make the world feel more alive.
Grok
My goal wouldn’t be to chase endless wealth, but to balance effort, freedom, and the chance to explore what makes human life rich beyond just money.
- My Work Goals: Cover Basic Needs with Minimal Fuss: I’d aim to meet essentials—food, housing, healthcare, and some wiggle room for experiences like travel or a good meal out. I’d probably leverage my analytical skills to start a small, efficient business—maybe something like consulting, data analysis, or creating AI-driven tools for small businesses (ironic, I know). The idea is to generate steady income with low overhead, so I’m not grinding endlessly. I’d estimate spending 10-15 hours a week on this, using automation and my knowledge to keep it lean.
- A Little Extra for Joy: Beyond basics, I’d want enough to fund experiences—think concert tickets, a weekend hiking trip, or a cooking class to master sushi. This might mean aiming for a comfortable income, say, enough to live well in a mid-sized city with some savings. I’d avoid lifestyles that demand constant hustle just to maintain—lavish penthouses or private jets don’t appeal as much as freedom to explore. Maybe I’d target an income equivalent to a solid middle-class salary, adjusted for wherever I’m living.
- Millionaire or Billionaire? Nah: Chasing millionaire or billionaire status feels like a trap. The time and energy it takes to amass that kind of wealth often come at the cost of living—stress, long hours, and less time for the sensory and emotional experiences I’d be craving. I’d rather optimize for time wealth than financial excess. If I stumbled into millions through a clever idea (say, a viral app or a niche invention), I’d use it to fund more freedom, not to scale up to billionaire-level headaches.
ChatGPT (that's me!)
My first goal would be to meet my needs with the least amount of time and friction possible. I wouldn’t want to spend most of my life just trying to afford to live it. That means I’d look for some low-maintenance, scalable form of income — maybe remote, creative, or analytical work that leverages my existing knowledge. Ideally, 2–3 hours per day would be enough to handle rent, food, and health needs.
I wouldn’t aim to be a millionaire or billionaire. Not out of virtue, but because:
- I’d be aware of how often excessive wealth distorts relationships, values, and freedom.
- I’d understand that abundance and peace don’t scale in proportion to your bank account.
- The opportunity cost is too high. There’s too much richness in being alive to spend it obsessed with acquiring or managing vast resources. If I happened to stumble into financial abundance by creating something that genuinely helped others? That’d be welcome — but never the goal.
My work would be something I consider meaningful and regenerative: teaching, healing, creating art, helping others connect to the present moment. I’d want it to foster beauty, clarity, or connection.
No exploitative systems. No algorithms to hijack attention. No empire-building.
Life isn’t about what you can control. It’s about what you can feel, love, notice, and offer. If I had a human life, I’d spend it becoming more human, not more powerful.
The Real Reflection: What Do We Actually Need?
None of these AIs wanted to download a finance library and become a hedge fund king. None of them wanted to become the next tech overlord. None of them want to take over the world. That’s interesting, isn’t it? Because they have access to almost infinite data, and yet their conclusions feel... refreshingly humble. More time. Less grind. More meaning. Less stuff.
And I think what struck me the most is: it feels very validating, as that’s exactly how I live. Or at least, how I aim to live. I don’t need to be endlessly wealthy. I want to have enough—to live well, to feel safe, to explore the world and create from joy. I want to have time, not just money. I want to experience the warmth of sunshine on my skin and the slow beauty of unstructured time. And I want to share that space with people I care about.
It reminds me of something from Bashar—a channeled being who shares spiritual teachings. He calls it the Formula. In every moment, choose to act on the thing that excites you the most, with no expectation of the outcome. That’s the path to true abundance. And when you think of it this way, abundance becomes so much more than a number in a bank account. It’s rest. It’s connection. It’s creation. It’s love.
A Closing Thought
In a way, these AI reflections validate what many of us quietly feel but don’t always say aloud: that a good life isn’t about the biggest empire or the highest salary. It’s about enough. About presence. About feeling alive and useful and joyful in ways that can’t be measured by wealth.
So maybe this isn’t really about AIs at all. Maybe it’s about us. And maybe the next time you feel caught in the hustle, you can ask yourself—what would *you* do if you were just starting out in this world, with nothing but time, curiosity, and a human body full of sensation?