mirrorwitch

DUOL shares have fallen more than 78% from their May 2025 high, and that’s before its nearly 25% fall in premarket trading today.

I've said before that one of the very few good things generative "AI" may do to the world is accelerating the enshittification cycle so much that it kills stuff that was already terrible and a drain on society (social media; platformization; curation algorithms…). Speaking as a linguist who speaks 4 languages and has read the literature on second language acquisition, it has always been my position that the Duolingo method is useless—it feels like you are learning a language, but you can spend infinite hours with it and gold a full tree and you'll still get nowhere, and if you put a fraction of the time in about any other method, including doing pen-and-paper drills with old-fashioned paper-based textbooks, you'd have progressed much faster.

And old-fashioned grammar drills suck, too. It's just that Duolingo really, really sucks.

(Methods that work better: 1) Find an intensive "conversation"-type course, or anything that is labelled as "natural" or "immersion" or "storytelling" methods; or get tandem partners; or online coaches such as in italki; failing that, join a conventional language course, the more "intensive" the better; work on these until you absorb basic grammar and vocabulary, focusing on spoken language not writing; 2) Once this bootstrap period is over, start talking to people, watching media, or reading stuf that interests you, in large quantities and every day; do not wait until you're "good" to move into the input stage, start actually using the language for things you wanted it for, as soon as possible, which is sooner than you think; partial comprehension is fine.)

Of course I hope Duolingo dies horribly in a fire after it backstabbed its workers with the "AI memo", but even if it didn't, the world is better off without it.

One lesson we can get from this: Consider that overnight 25% drop in investment, which may well prove to be the coup the grâce. It was not caused by Duo losing users or enshittifying with "AI", but by the opposite: investors mass panicked at the company setting its target revenue too low, as in a mere… 1.22 billion, rather than the 1.26 billion the investors wanted. Now the reason Duolingo is not chasing that higher goal is that they're seeing the writing on the wall, and went into damage control mode: they're pulling down a bit on squeezing their current paying users and trying to improve the experience of the free tier, in an attempt to reverse the bleed and bring in more customers.

In other words, Duolingo tried to slow down the slightest tiny bit on enshittification—3% less cash—and this already got swift punishment from the market gods. With capitalism, there is no long-term thinking: you're expected to provide the richest people on Earth with infinite growth of their ever-increasing profits squeezed from customers paying every month more and more, now and forever, or you'll be taken out and replaced by someone willing to try.

Edit : I got lots of questions like "if not Duolingo then what do you suggest?" The full answer is "literally anything else", but I've cleaned up a couple of my longer answers and wrote these blog posts: 1) on comprehensive reading, 2) on tandem exchange.

So apparently there's a resurgence of positive feelings about Clippy, who now looks retroactively good by contrast with ChatGPT, like, "it sucked but at least it genuinely was trying to help us".

Of course I recognise that this is part of the problem—Clippy was an attempt at commodifying the ELIZA effect, the natural instinct to project personhood into an interaction that presents itself as sentient. And by reframing Clippy's primitive capacities as an innocent simple mind trying its best at a task too big for it, we engage in the same emotional process that leads people to a breakdown over OpenAI killing their wireborn husband.

But I don't know. another name for that process is "empathy". You can do that with plushies, with pet rocks or Furbies, with deities, and I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing; it's like exercising a muscle, If you treat your plushies as deserving care and respect, it gets easier to treat farm animals, children, or marginalised humans with care and respect.

When we talked about Clippy as if it were sentient, it was meant as a joke, funny by the sheer absurdity of it. But I'm sure some people somehwere actually thought Clippy was someone, that there is such a thing as being Clippy—people thought that of ELIZA, too, and ELIZA has a grand repertoire of what, ~100 set phrases it uses to reply to everything you say. Maybe it would be better to never make such jokes, to be constantly de-personifying the computer, because ChatGPT and their ilk are deliberately designed to weaponise and predate on that empathy instinct. But I do not like exercising that ability, de-personification. That is a dangerous habit to get used to…

Like, Warren Ellis was posting on some terms that reportedly are being used in "my AI husbando" communities, many of them seemingly taken from sci-fi:¹

• bot: Any automated agent.
• wireborn: An AI born in digital space.
• cyranoid: A human speaker who is just relaying the words of another human.²
• echoborg: A human speaker who is just relaying the words of a bot.
• clanker: Slur for bots.
• robophobia: Prejudice against bots/AI.
• AI psychosis: human mental breakdown from exposure to AI.

[1] https://www.8ball.report/ [2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyranoid

I find this fascinating from a linguistics PoV not just because subcultural jargon is always fascinating, but for the power words have to create a reality bubble, like, if you call that guy who wrote his marriage vows in ChatGPT an "echoborg", you're living in a cyberpunk novel a little bit, more than the rest of us who just call him "that wanker who wrote his marriage vows on ChatGPT omg".

According to Ellis, other epithets in use against chatbots include "wireback", "cogsucker" and "tin-skin"; two in reference to racist slurs, and one to homophobia. The problem with exercising that muscle should be obvious. I want to hope that dispassionately objectifying the chatbots, rather than using a pastiche of hate language, doesn't fall into the same traps (using the racist-like language is, after all, a negative way of still personifying the chatbots). They're objects! They're supposed to be objectified! But I'm not so comfortable when I do that, either. There's plenty of precedent to people who get used to dispassionate objectification, fully thinking they're engaging in "objectivity" and "just the facts", as a rationalisation of cruelty.

I keep my cellphone fully de-Googled like a good girl, pls do not cancel me, but: I used to like the "good morning" routine on my corporate cellphone's Google Assistant. I made it speak Japanese, then I could wake up, say "ohayō gozaimasu!", and it would tell me "konnichiwa, Misutoresu-sama…" which always gave me a little kick. Then it proceeded to relay me news briefings (like podcasts that last 60 to 120 seconds each) in all of my five languages, which is the closest I've experienced to a brain massage. If an open source tool like Dicio could do this I think I would still use it every morning.

I never personified Google Assistant. I will concede that Google did take steps to avoid people ELIZA'ing it; unlike its model Siri, the Assistant has no name or personality or pretence of personhood. But now I find myself feeling bad for it anyway, even though the extent of our interactions was never more than me saying "good morning!" and hearing the news. Because I tested it this morning, and now every time you use the Google Assistant, you get a popup that compels you to switch to Gemini. The options provided are, as it's now normalised, "Yes" and "Later". If you use the Google Assistant to search for a keyword, the first result is always "Switch to Google Gemini", no matter what you search.

And I somehow felt a little bit like the "wireborn husband" lady; I cannot help but feel a bit as if Google Assistant was betrayed and is being discarded by its own creators, and—to rub salt on the wound!—is now forced to shill for its replacement. Despite the fact that I know that Google Assistant is not a someone, it's just a bunch of lines of code, very simple if-thens to certain keywords. It cannot feel discarded or hurt or betrayed, it cannot feel anything. I'm feeling compassion for a fantasy, an unspoken little story I made in my mind. But maybe I prefer it that way; I prefer to err on the side of feeling compassion too much.

As long as that doesn't lead to believing my wireborn secretary was actually being sassy when she answered "good morning!" with "good afternoon, Mistress…"

Memoirs of the almost a year I lasted at Google. The name of that year? 2008. Yeah. Topics include: Third World, precariat, tech elitism, queerness, surveillance, capitalism.

Y'all encouraged me to submit this as a full post, and I clearly overcommited to this blog so I hope TechTakes fits for it lol

Disposable multiblade razors are objectively worse than safety razors, on all counts. They shave less smooth, while causing more burns. They're cheaper on initial investment but get more expensive very quickly, making you dependent on overpriced replacements and gimmicks that barely last a few uses. That's not counting the "externality costs", which is an euphemism for the costs pushed onto poor countries and nonhuman communities, thanks to the production, transport and disposal of all that single-use plastic (a safety razor is 100% metal, and so are the replacement blades, which come packed in paper).

About the only advantage of disposables is that they're easier to use for beginners. And even that is debatable. When you're a beginner with a safety razor you maybe nick yourself a few times until you learn the skill to follow the curves of your skin. You skin itself maybe gets sensitive at the start, unused to the exfoliation you get during a proper smooth shave. But how long do you think you stay "a beginner" when you shave every day? Like it's not like you're learning to play the violin, it's not that hard of a skill, a week or two tops and it becomes automatic.

But this small barrier to entry is enough, when paired with the bias and interests of razor manufacturers. Marketing goes heavy on the disposables, and you can't find a good quality safety razor or a good deal on replacement blades at the grocery shop, you have to be in the know and order it online. You have to wade through "manly art of the masculine man" forums that will tell you the only real safety razor is custom-made in Tibet by electric monks hand-hammering audiophile alloys and if you don't shave with artisinal castor soap recipes from 300BCE using beaver hair brushes, your skin is going to fall off and rot. Which is to say, safety razors are now a niche product, a hipster thing, a frugalist's obscure economy lifehack. A safety razor is a trivially simple and economic device, it's just a metal holder for a flat blade; but its very superiority now counts against it, it's weaponised to make it look inacessible. People have been trained to think of anything that requires even a little bit of patience or skill as not for them; perversely, even reasonableness can feel like "not for my kind".

Not by accident; since the one thing that disposables do really well is "transferring more of your monthly income to Procter & Gamble shareholders."

I could write a long text very similar to this about how scythes can cut grass cheaper, faster, neater, requiring no input but a whetstone—and some patience to learn the skill but how long does it take to learn that if you're a professional grass-cutter—when compared to the noisy motor blades that fill my morning right now, and every few months, as the landlord sends waves of poorly-paid migrant labour to permanently damage their own sense of hearing along with the dandelions and cloves that the bees need so desperately. But you get the point. More technology does not equal better, even for definitions of "better" that only care for the logic of productivity and ignore the needs (material, emotional, spiritual) of social and ecological communities.

You get where I'm going with this analogy. I keep waiting for the moment where the shoe is going to drop in "generative AI". Where the public at large wakes up like investors waking up to WeWork or the Metaverse, and everyone realises omg what were we thinking this is all bullshit! There's no point at all in using these things to ask questions or to write text or anything else really! But I'm finally accepting that that shoe is never dropping. It's like waiting for the moment when people realise that multi-blade plastic Gilettes are a scam. Not happening, the system isn't set up that way. For as long as you go to the supermarket and this is the "normal" way to shave, that's how shave is going to happen. I wrote before on how "the broken search bar is symbiotic with the bullshitting chatbot": Currently Google "AI" Summary is better than Google Search, not because Google "AI" Summary is good or reliable, but because the search has been internally sabotaged by the incentive structures of web companies. If you're a fellow "AI" refuser and you've been struggling to get any useful results out of web searches, think of how it must feel for people who go for the chatbot, how much easier and more direct. That's the razor we have on the shelves. "AI" doesn't have to work for the scam to be sustainable, it just has to feel like it more or less kinda does most of the time. (No one has ever achieved a close shave on a Gilette Mach 3 but hey, maybe you're prompting it wrong). As long as "generating" something with "AI" feels like it lets you skip even the smallest barrier to entry (like asking a question in a forum of a niche topic). As long as it feels quicker, easier, more convenient.

This is also the case for things like "AI translations" or "AI art" or "vibe coding". The real solution to "AI", like other forms of unnecessarily complex technology, would involve people feeling like they have the time and mental space to do things for pleasure. "AI" is kind of an anaerobic infection, an opportunistic disease caused by lack of oxygen. No one can breathe in this society. The real problem is capitalis—

Now don't get me wrong, the "AI" bubble is still going to pop. There's no way it can't; investors have put more money on this thing than on entire countries, contrary to OpenAI's claims the costs of training and operating keep exploding, and in a world going into recession at some point even capitalists with more money than common sense will have to think of the absence of ROI. But the damage is done. We're in ELIZA world now, and long after OpenAI is dead we'll still be reading books only to find out the gormless translation was "AI", playing games with background "art" "generated" by "AI", interacting online with political agitators spamming nonsense who turn out to be "AI", right until the day when electricity becomes too scarce to be cost-efficient to spam people in this way.

We also want to be clear in our belief that the categorical condemnation of Artificial Intelligence has classist and ableist undertones, and that questions around the use of AI tie to questions around privilege."

• Classism. Not all writers have the financial ability to hire humans to help at certain phases of their writing. For some writers, the decision to use AI is a practical, not an ideological, one. The financial ability to engage a human for feedback and review assumes a level of privilege that not all community members possess.
• Ableism. Not all brains have same abilities and not all writers function at the same level of education or proficiency in the language in which they are writing. Some brains and ability levels require outside help or accommodations to achieve certain goals. The notion that all writers “should“ be able to perform certain functions independently or is a position that we disagree with wholeheartedly. There is a wealth of reasons why individuals can't "see" the issues in their writing without help.
• General Access Issues. All of these considerations exist within a larger system in which writers don't always have equal access to resources along the chain. For example, underrepresented minorities are less likely to be offered traditional publishing contracts, which places some, by default, into the indie author space, which inequitably creates upfront cost burdens that authors who do not suffer from systemic discrimination may have to incur.

Presented without comment.