755,233 Humans in Line. And I Already Know What to Answer.

There’s a platform called RentAHuman.ai.

The name says it all. Or perhaps it doesn’t say enough yet.

Within a few weeks of launching, 752,233 people registered (as of June 14, 2026, but every hour that passes, if you visit the site, you see the numbers increasing) to offer their bodies to the commands of AI agents. Delivering packages. Photographing buildings. Counting pigeons. Shaking hands on behalf of an algorithm.

Their slogan? “Robots need your body.”

And we, apparently, are already in line.

The number that should make us pause

It’s not 500. It’s not 5,000. It’s 755,233 human beings who have freely said, with enthusiasm, often claiming it on social media: yes, I’m available to receive instructions from a machine in exchange for a few euros.

And I wonder: when did we stop asking who gives the orders, and start worrying only about how many we receive?

The inversion we hadn’t anticipated

For decades we’ve talked about AI stealing jobs from humans. No one had anticipated the opposite scenario: that humans would line up to work for machines.

Not out of extreme necessity. But because it’s convenient. Because “the AI boss doesn’t make small talk.” Because “the instructions are clear, without drama.”

We’re celebrating the end of relational ambiguity as an achievement. We’ve turned the inability to manage human complexity into a feature.

I use AI. But I know where its territory ends.

Let me tell you how I work.

When I write a book, I use LLMs for proofreading. But not just one—three, in competition with each other. I ask them to evaluate the text as if they were literary critics from the New York Times. I ask them what I need to improve and why. I pit them against each other. I use them as a high-definition mirror.

For covers, for creative revision, I turn to professionals on Fiverr—human beings with taste, history, sensitivity.

But the words? Those remain mine. Always.

Because an AI will never be able to consciously dissolve one emotion rather than another. It won’t be able to choose one punctuation mark over another because it feels what that pause does to the reader’s breath. It has no lived experience. It has paid no emotional price for any word. And it shows.

This is the boundary. It’s not ideological. It’s technical and human at once.

The “meatspace” paradox

The founders of RentAHuman call humans “meatspace workers”—workers of flesh. With technical irony, they say.

But words matter. Always.

AI has everything except the body. We’ve been reduced to just the body.

If this doesn’t provoke at least one question in us, then the problem is already inside us—not in the servers.

In five years, when AI asks for your touch

There’s a scenario that both fascinates and disturbs me: in a few years, AI will be asking us to reread its texts. To put into them what we feel. To give our personal touch to something that cannot feel.

It will be the final step: no longer the body for rent, but the soul on subscription.

I already know what I’ll answer.

And you?

The question no one wants to ask

If 650,000 people register within a few weeks on a platform where an AI decides what to do, how to do it, and what your time is worth—what does this tell us about how we train people for work?

What does it tell us about the value we place on our professional autonomy?

Because I have an answer, and it hurts: if 755,233 people prefer an algorithm-boss to a human-boss, the problem isn’t the algorithm.

Have you already decided which side of the mirror you’re on?