In a former equine stable within San Francisco's SoMa district, an unusual scene unfolded as employees at a startup called Humane sported small, blinking devices pinned to their chests. This peculiar tableau marked the prelude to the launch of the company's latest creation—the Ai Pin. A culmination of five years, an impressive $240 million in funding, 25 patents, and strategic partnerships with tech behemoths like OpenAI, Microsoft, and Salesforce, the Ai Pin aimed to address a widespread issue: smartphone addiction. The proposed solution from Humane's founders, Imran Chaudhri and Bethany Bongiorno, was not a reduction in technology but a profound shift in how we engage with it.
Chaudhri and Bongiorno, a husband-and-wife team with prior roles at Apple, envisioned a future where our dependence on ubiquitous smartphone screens would diminish. They believed that artificial intelligence held the key to redefining our relationship with devices, allowing them to take a back seat in our daily lives. The Ai Pin, positioned as the first artificially intelligent device, presented a range of control options—from voice commands to tapping a touchpad or projecting a laser display onto the hand. In an instant, the device's virtual assistant could send messages, play music, capture photos, make calls, or even translate conversations in real-time.
This innovative technology represented a leap forward from existing virtual assistants like Siri, Alexa, and Google Assistant. It could seamlessly follow a conversation, eliminating the need for explicit context, and edit dictated messages without requiring users to repeat the entire text. The device's functionality, reminiscent of the badges in Star Trek, aimed to liberate users from the screens that had become integral to their lives.
Humane's ambitious goal faced skepticism within the tech industry. The history of wearables was littered with products that failed to gain traction. Undeterred, Humane geared up to ship the Ai Pin, projecting sales of around 100,000 units at a cost of $699 each, with an additional $24 monthly subscription in the first year. For context, Apple's initial iPod sales reached 381,000 in the first year following its 2001 launch.
Success hinged on users adapting to a new operating system named Cosmos and embracing a device-centric approach, including obtaining new phone numbers linked to the Ai Pin. Users needed to adjust their communication style, shifting from typing texts to dictating, and accept that certain features like object recognition and videos might not be available initially. The device, as revealed in the company's demos to The New York Times, could also be prone to occasional bugs.
Sam Altman, OpenAI's CEO, who foresaw AI playing a substantial role in human-computer interactions, invested in Humane. He believed that users would determine the success of the Ai Pin and acknowledged the possibility of it being either a significant leap or a bridge too far for consumers.
The founders, Bongiorno and Chaudhri, brought diverse perspectives to their collaboration. While Chaudhri spoke with a yogi's soft and calm voice, shaving his head, Bongiorno, with her long fair hair, exuded the spirit of a group captain. Their paths had converged at Apple in 2008, where Chaudhri worked on the iPhone's user interface, defining swipes and drags, and Bongiorno served as a program manager for the iPhone and iPad.
The journey to Humane was guided by a Buddhist monk named Brother Spirit. Together, Chaudhri and Bongiorno conceptualized two AI products—a women's well-being device and the Ai Pin. Brother Spirit, impressed with their ideas, suggested sharing them with his friend Marc Benioff, the founder of Salesforce. In 2018, on a cliff overlooking the ocean at Benioff's Hawaiian residence, the founders presented their devices, with the Ai Pin garnering substantial attention.
Humane sought to replicate the iPhone's utility without fostering dependence on the dopamine rush from social media or entertainment apps. Their experimentation involved concealed equipment and the creation of a virtual assistant, inspired by Siri and Alexa, using customized communication models partially based on OpenAI's offerings. The most sci-fi feature—the laser projecting a text list onto a limb—started as a matchbook-sized box, taking three years to miniaturize to the size of a golf tee.
Humane embraced Apple's secretive culture during experimentation, revealing their endeavors to the public in grandiose statements and attracting high-profile investors, including Altman. However, the startup deviated from Apple's stringent approach by encouraging collaboration, fostering inquiry, and embracing a more transparent company culture.
José Benitez Cong, a former Apple executive who joined Humane, expressed his disgust with what the iPhone had done to society and saw his involvement with Humane as a form of redemption. He believed that this endeavor could help him overcome his feelings of responsibility for contributing to the iPhone's impact on society.
As the Ai Pin neared its release, a group of Humane employees gathered around a table, evaluating the sounds emitted by the device. The "personic" talker, a portmanteau of personal and sonic, was crucial for features relying on verbal and audio cues. While Chaudhri praised the confidence exuded by a chirp noise, Bongiorno appreciated the more physical sounds generated by the laser. However, a whooshing sound during text message transmission received mixed reviews, with some likening it to a ghost or a Halloween prank.
Despite the anticipation and skepticism surrounding AI, investors valued Humane at $850 million even before the product hit the market. The company aimed for a communication strategy emphasizing trust and transparency, incorporating a "trust light" on the Ai Pins to indicate when the device was recording. In the months leading up to the launch, Humane teased the public with demos, including a TED Talk by Chaudhri and a fashion show featuring supermodel Naomi Campbell wearing the inconspicuous Ai Pin.
Humane's supporters drew parallels with the first iPod—a seemingly clunky and awkward device with a single function that laid the groundwork for a revolutionary shift to smartphones. Humane envisioned an ecosystem of companies building features for its operating system—akin to an AI version of Apple's App Store.
But before realizing this grand vision, there were raisins—specifically, a feature demonstrated at Humane's office that would be rolled out in a future version of the product. In this demo, a program creator picked up a candy from a plate and tapped the Ai Pin on his chest. As it whirred to life with a beep, he inquired, "How much sweetener is in this?"
"I'm sorry; couldn't look up the amount of sweetener in an oatmeal raisin cookie," the virtual assistant replied.
Chaudhri shrugged off the mistake. "To be fair, I have trouble with the distinction between a candy and an oatmeal raisin."
Humane's audacious ambition to disrupt the smartphone landscape blended audacity, creativity, and a touch of irrationality—the kind of ambition Silicon Valley was once renowned for. Critics bemoaned the industry's recent shift toward incremental frivolities, such as selfie apps and robot pizza trucks, and applauded Humane's attempt to break the mold.
However, even after months of wearing the Ai Pins throughout the day, the founders couldn't entirely detach themselves from the screens. "Are we using our smartphones less?" Chaudhri pondered