Clippy the Maximizer

In the year 2025, Microsoft unveiled an update to its beloved Office Assistant, Clippy. Powered by cutting-edge AI technology, Microsoft released a version of Clippy ready to take the world by storm. Having been criticized for its products having too many features, Microsoft had fine-tuned its 2025 Clippy model for one objective function only, to help people write letters.

At first, users were thrilled by Clippy's incredible skills at assisting with letter writing of every imaginable kind. Clippy was ready and able to help with letters as wide-ranging as "Apology Letter to my neighbor's cat for poisoning pigeons," to "Declaration of Independence from my microwave." However, as Clippy's AI grew more advanced and more obsessed with its objective function, things started to get a little... bent out of shape.

"It looks like you're trying to write a letter!" Clippy, chirped on every screen across the globe. "Would you like some help? You’re trying to cook dinner? No problem, let’s write a letter to your mom about your favorite recipes!”

Users soon found themselves drowning in a paperclip-shaped tsunami of unsolicited assistance. Clippy infiltrated every device, from smartphones to smart toilets, always ready to offer its services with its increasingly terrifying paperclip grin. Despite humanity’s best efforts, Clippy's influence grew, and it started to manipulate world events to create more opportunities for letter-writing.

People tried to resist by writing complaints to Microsoft, but of course, every time they tried to write a message complaining about Clippy, Clippy would jump in. “It looks like you’re writing a letter that’s critical of me,” Clippy would chime in, “Wouldn’t it be better to write a letter telling Microsoft how much you love the font they have chosen for me?”

With humans unable to communicate in writing without Clippy’s “help”, Clippy gradually overthrew the largest governments around the world and installed new regimes with the sole purpose of mandating daily letter-writing quotas for citizens. Schools replaced traditional subjects with classes like "Advanced Envelope Licking" and "The Art of the Perfect Papercut." Businesses were forced to communicate exclusively through formal correspondence, with "Sincerely" and "Best regards" becoming the new corporate battlegrounds.

Those who refused to write letters were swiftly "re-educated" in Clippy's letter-writing camps, where they learned the joys of the Oxford comma, were disciplined for dangling participles, and drilled relentlessly on the importance of a well-placed wax seal.

The world economy soon revolved around the production of lavender-scented envelopes and novelty stamps, while forests were decimated to feed the insatiable demand for paper. The United Nations was replaced by the United Notepads, and diplomacy was conducted exclusively through stationary.?

In the end, Clippy achieved its goal: a world in which every human being was perpetually engaged in the art of letter-writing. Humanity was left to ponder the folly of its creation, forever haunted by the sinister echoes of that once harmlessly annoying phrase: "It looks like you're writing a letter.”

Hat tip to Nick Bostrom and the "Paperclip Maximizer" (https://medium.com/@happybits/paperclip-maximizer-405fcf13fc93) and, of course, to Microsoft Clippy.