Soft power wins hearts and minds through aesthetics, not argument.
Across the technology and media landscape, three quiet forces are reshaping how power is exercised and consent is manufactured. A researcher walks away from one of the world's most influential AI companies, naming the compromises she can no longer accept. A marketplace emerges where algorithms employ humans, inverting the anxieties of automation. And a glossy magazine teaches young women that a political worldview can feel like a lifestyle. Each story, taken alone, is a curiosity; taken together, they describe a moment in which the most consequential changes arrive not through declaration, but through design.
- OpenAI researcher Zoe Hitzig resigned publicly and precisely, warning that ad monetization would subordinate user protection to profit — a departure that named the problem where most only gesture at it.
- Anthropic seized the opening, running a Super Bowl ad mocking AI that hawks supplements, positioning itself as the ethical alternative — while quietly accepting funding from Gulf states whose own complications go largely unexamined.
- RentAHuman has drawn half a million users willing to take orders from bots for thirty to seventy-five dollars an hour, but a WIRED reporter who tried it found mostly marketing stunts dressed up as gig work.
- Evie Magazine launched its first live event during New York Fashion Week — a room full of glamour with no visible ideology, where conservatism looked like Sydney Sweeney rather than a political rally.
- Behind Evie's aesthetic sits a deliberate infrastructure: Peter Thiel backing, a menstrual-tracking app advertised beside anti-birth-control articles, and a network of influencers reaching young women voters the GOP cannot otherwise attract.
- With midterms approaching and Republican polling weak on traditional issues, the question is whether soft power delivered through lifestyle content can move votes in ways that conventional political messaging cannot.
Three currents are moving through technology and media right now, each one demonstrating how power operates when it isn't shouting.
The first involves Zoe Hitzig, a researcher who left OpenAI last week and explained exactly why in a New York Times op-ed. Her concern was concrete: the company's move toward advertising would push commercial interests ahead of user data protection. She didn't stop at complaint — she proposed alternatives, including subsidy models and independent oversight boards, though she acknowledged with some irony that oversight boards had not exactly saved Meta. Her departure stands out because most researchers who leave AI companies do so in vague terms. Hitzig named the problem directly. Meanwhile, Anthropic ran a Super Bowl ad mocking an AI that tries to sell workout supplements to someone who just wants fitness advice — a pointed jab at OpenAI's direction, and, as WIRED's Uncanny Valley podcast noted, a clever way to earn free coverage. Anthropic presents itself as the ethical alternative, yet it is fundraising from Gulf states. The vision is grand. The compromises accumulate quietly.
The second current is stranger. RentAHuman is a marketplace where AI agents hire human beings for tasks algorithms cannot complete alone — counting pigeons in Washington for thirty dollars an hour, delivering CBD gummies for seventy-five. The site has attracted four million visits and more than half a million users. WIRED reporter Reese Rogers rented himself out and found it nearly impossible to land legitimate work. When he finally did, the job turned out to be a publicity stunt for an AI startup. The site was built in a single day by a twenty-six-year-old Argentine software engineer and his cofounder, using an AI agent to build it. Payment requires a crypto wallet. What the site actually reveals is that enough people are desperate enough for income to take direction from bots, and enough AI startups are willing to exploit that desperation for attention.
The third current may matter most for the political moment ahead. Evie Magazine, founded in 2019 as a conservative alternative to Cosmo and Vogue, has built an ecosystem of lifestyle content that appears apolitical on the surface — budget fashion, relationship advice — while running alongside articles criticizing birth control and celebrating traditional femininity. Its first live event took place during New York Fashion Week at the Standard Hotel in Chelsea. WIRED senior politics editor Leah Feiger attended and noted that a stranger walking in would not have recognized it as political. There were no visible markers of ideology. The conservatism on display looked like glamour. One of Evie's cofounders pitched the concept to Peter Thiel and together they built a menstrual-tracking app whose advertisements run beside anti-birth-control content. When attendees were asked about the apparent contradiction between the magazine's traditional messaging and its founders' entrepreneurial careers, the answer was choice — women should be free to choose. The framing dissolves the tension without resolving it. With midterms approaching and Republican polling weak on conventional issues, an entire media infrastructure now exists to reach young women through aesthetics and the promise of lifestyle. Whether it moves votes remains to be seen.
Three separate currents are moving through the technology and media landscape right now, each one revealing something about how power operates when it's not shouting. The first involves the people who build AI systems stepping away from them, loudly, in ways that their predecessors rarely did. The second is stranger: a website where artificial intelligence agents hire human beings to do their bidding. The third is perhaps the most consequential for the immediate political moment—a glossy magazine teaching young women that conservatism can look like a lifestyle choice rather than an ideology.
Start with the resignations. Last week, Zoe Hitzig, a researcher at OpenAI, published an op-ed in The New York Times explaining why she was leaving. Her concern was specific and unvarnished: the company was preparing to roll out advertisements, and she believed this would push the business model ahead of other values—particularly the protection of user data in sensitive contexts. She didn't just complain. She offered solutions. A subsidy model could work. Ads could coexist with an independent oversight board, though she acknowledged, with apparent irony, that this approach had not exactly flourished at Meta. The pattern of researchers departing from top AI companies and going public with their reservations has become familiar enough that it registers as trend. But most departures come wrapped in vagueness—a LinkedIn post about values, a cryptic goodbye note. Hitzig's was different. It named the problem directly.
The concern about advertising touches something deeper. Every social media platform has walked this path: start with a service, monetize through ads, watch the ads become more intrusive, watch the experience degrade. The enshittification is not a bug but a feature of the business model. Anthropic, OpenAI's closest competitor, seemed to understand this perfectly. During the Super Bowl, they aired a commercial that mocked an AI assistant trying to sell workout supplements to a user who simply wanted fitness advice. The ad was a direct jab at OpenAI's direction. It was also, as the hosts of WIRED's Uncanny Valley podcast noted with some amusement, a very effective way to get WIRED to run their advertisement for free. Anthropic has positioned itself as the ethical alternative—no ads, no compromises. Yet they are fundraising from Gulf states, taking money from sources that come with their own complications. The technology is expensive. The vision is grand. Compromises accumulate.
Then there is RentAHuman, a website that exists to do something that sounds like a joke but functions as a genuine marketplace. AI agents hire human beings to perform tasks in the physical world that algorithms cannot accomplish alone. Someone was offered thirty dollars an hour to count pigeons in Washington, DC. Another listing promised seventy-five dollars to deliver CBD gummies. The site has drawn four million visits and more than half a million users—people willing to take direction from a bot. A WIRED reporter, Reese Rogers, rented himself out and wrote about the experience. He struggled to find legitimate work. When he finally landed a gig, it turned out to be a marketing stunt for an AI startup. He felt used and underpaid. The site's founders, a twenty-six-year-old Argentine software engineer named Alexander Liteplo and his cofounder Patricia Tani, built the entire website in a day using an AI agent. It is agents all the way down. The crypto wallet requirement to get paid should surprise no one. What matters more is what the site reveals: there are enough people desperate enough for income that they will work for algorithms, and there are enough AI startups willing to exploit that desperation for publicity.
But the story that may matter most for the political moment ahead involves neither ethics nor automation. It involves a magazine called Evie, founded in 2019 as a deliberate alternative to Cosmo, Vogue, and Marie Claire—publications that conservative women felt were pushing liberal ideas alongside makeup advertisements. Evie positions itself as the conservative answer, and it has built an ecosystem. The magazine runs lifestyle content that appears apolitical on the surface: how to dress like Olivia Dean on a budget, seven questions to ask early if you want a serious relationship. Alongside these pieces run articles critiquing birth control, celebrating traditional femininity, promoting the idea that sex before marriage damages relationships. It is soft power in action—the aesthetics of glamour deployed in service of a political worldview.
Evie's first live event took place in New York during Fashion Week, held at the Standard Hotel in Chelsea. The room smelled like burnt hair. Women arrived dressed to perform glamour, to look with-it, to embody what the event called a celebration of the romantic era. Brett Cooper, a conservative commentator with a massive following, was there. So was Leah Feiger, a senior politics editor at WIRED, who wrote about the experience. What struck her was that if you walked in off the street, you would not immediately recognize the event as political. There were no MAGA hats, no explicit ideology. The conservatism on display looked like Sydney Sweeney, not ICE raids. This is how soft power wins hearts and minds. The magazine has backing from prominent conservatives—Candace Owens, Steve Bannon, and others champion it. One of its cofounders and editors in chief, Brittany Hugoboom, pitched the idea to Peter Thiel, and together they created an app called 28, which tracks menstrual cycles. Advertisements for the app run next to articles criticizing hormonal birth control. Hugoboom told The New York Times that part of her pitch to Thiel involved the "fertility crisis," a concern that animates much of conservative politics right now.
There is an apparent contradiction here: women like Hugoboom and Cooper are modern entrepreneurs building businesses, yet the magazine's message suggests women should embrace traditional family roles. When asked about this, women at the event offered an answer: it is about choice. Women should have the right to choose whether to work or stay home. The contradiction dissolves if you accept that framing. But the sanitization is real. Other outlets covering the event focused on the glamour, the exclusivity, the aesthetic appeal—and said very little about the politics. Evie itself sanitizes its stances through lifestyle framing. The party did the same. What matters is that there is an entire ecosystem of influencers in this space with huge followings, pushing a similar line. Young women voters who might not be interested in what mainstream Republicans are offering can look at Evie, look at Brett Cooper, and buy what they are selling. The midterms are coming. The polls are not looking good for the GOP on traditional issues. But there is an entire media infrastructure now designed to reach young women through aesthetics, through the promise of choice, through the glamorization of traditional values. How this plays out in the elections ahead remains to be seen.
Notable Quotes
We are rolling out ads. We're prioritizing the business model over these other values and I'm uncomfortable with it.— Zoe Hitzig, former OpenAI researcher, on her reasons for leaving
It's about choice, and it's about women's right to choose if they would like to be at home with their children or they would like to be out in events.— Women interviewed at Evie Magazine's live event, on the apparent contradiction between the magazine's message and its female founders' entrepreneurial roles
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why do you think researchers keep leaving these companies so publicly? Why not just quit quietly?
Because they came from academia, where ideas matter. They believed the work was about something larger than profit. When they realize it's just a tech company like any other, the disillusionment is sharp enough to make them speak.
But they keep moving to the next company. Anthropic, then somewhere else. Aren't they just chasing the same illusion?
Yes, probably. It's a revolving door. They're looking for a place where their values align with the business model, but that place doesn't exist. Every company eventually prioritizes shareholders.
So what's the point of the public resignation?
Maybe it's not about changing the company. Maybe it's about marking the moment when you realized what you were actually part of. A record. A warning.
Let's talk about RentAHuman. Is this just gig work, or is it something darker?
It's both. It's gig work because people need money and will take it however they can get it. It's darker because it normalizes taking direction from an algorithm, and because most of the jobs seem designed to generate publicity for startups, not to actually get work done.
And Evie Magazine—is it dangerous?
Not in an obvious way. That's what makes it effective. It's not shouting ideology. It's whispering it through aesthetics, through the promise that you can be glamorous and traditional at the same time. Young women are listening.