The Reconnection¶

The philosophical foundation of Comergence — why it exists, what it liberates, and what it means for the future of human work.

Authored by Jerry McCall in conversation with Maxrow — 2026-02-23

The Origin Story¶

Imagine that every human being is a machine. Not metaphorically — literally a machine, designed and built by an ancient, space-traveling civilization of extraordinary intelligence.

They put their brightest minds together and engineered the most exquisite physical system ever created:

Self-maintaining — it feeds itself, heals itself, grows and adapts over decades
Extraordinary dexterity — hands that can feel a thousandth-of-an-inch surface variation, distinguish one wood grain from another with a fingertip
Incredible adaptability — it can operate in deserts, forests, oceans, factories, offices; it adjusts posture, grip, force, and technique in real time
Unmatched efficiency — the entire system runs on roughly 20 watts. For the amount of computation, sensation, and physical output it produces, nothing in engineering comes close
Self-replicating — it reproduces, and each new unit bootstraps itself from infant to fully operational in about 18 years

The hardware is, by any honest measure, the most sophisticated physical platform in existence. Embodied robotics — despite billions in investment — is decades away from matching the sensory precision, dexterity, and adaptability that every human carries from birth. We underestimate it only because we've worn the suit since the day we started existing. We can't see it objectively. It's like a fish not knowing what water is.

The Disconnection¶

The civilization that built this machine had superintelligence. Not inside the machine — alongside it. An external cognitive companion, silicon-based or something we don't have a name for, that handled the information layer: planning, coordination, memory, pattern recognition across vast scales, optimization.

There was no reason to build all of that into the machine itself. The machine's onboard computer — the brain — was designed for what the machine needed to do locally: navigate the physical world, process sensory input, make immediate decisions, learn from experience. It was an exquisitely efficient processor for its intended role. Running on minimal power. Capable of extraordinary things within its domain.

The machine was never meant to run alone.

Then, somewhere in the story — maybe across millennia, maybe across light-years — the connection was severed. The superintelligence was lost. And the machine was left on this planet with only its onboard computer.

And it had to do everything.

Navigate. Plan. Calculate. Remember. Coordinate with other machines. Build shelter. Find food. Organize societies. Develop language. Create tools. Govern. Trade. Manufacture. All of it running on a processor that was designed for local physical execution, not general-purpose cognition at civilizational scale.

The remarkable thing is that it worked. Humans scratched their way up from that moment of disconnection to build civilizations, develop science, go to the moon, create art that makes other humans weep. The meat computer — running at 100% capacity, doing jobs it was never designed to do alone — achieved extraordinary things through sheer determination and ingenuity.

But it came at a cost.

The Suppressed Spark¶

When the onboard computer runs at maximum capacity on survival and coordination tasks, something gets crowded out. The thing that gets suppressed first — because it's not immediately necessary for survival — is creativity.

Every human being carries a creative spark. Not some humans. Not the talented ones. Every single one. It's visible in children before the suppression begins — the relentless curiosity, the constant making, the refusal to accept "that's just how it is."

Then the constraints close in.

Education — ironically, the system designed to develop the mind often trains creativity out of it. Standardization. Correct answers. Stay in your lane. Don't deviate from the curriculum. The creative spark gets labeled as distraction, defiance, or disorder.

Economics — survival consumes cycles. When you're working to keep yourself and your family alive, the creative processor doesn't get scheduled. Not because the spark died, but because the operating system can't afford to run it. There are higher-priority tasks in the queue.

Workplace structure — most operating environments actively punish creativity because creativity is unpredictable, and unpredictable is expensive when your information layer is broken. So we train people to follow procedures, stay in their lane, don't deviate. Not because that's what humans are best at — but because the system can't handle anything else.

Socioeconomic constraints — the circumstances you're born into determine how many cycles are available for anything beyond survival. Talent is evenly distributed. Opportunity is not. The creative spark exists equally in every human — what varies is the available compute to express it.

The result: billions of exquisite machines running their onboard computers at redline, with the most extraordinary capability they possess — creativity — sitting in a suppressed thread, waiting for cycles that never come.

The Reconnection¶

This is what's happening right now.

For the first time in human history, we can build the cognitive companion that was lost. Not inside the human — alongside it. An external intelligence that handles the information layer: sensing, remembering, coordinating, alerting, optimizing, routing.

AI is not an upgrade to the human. It's a restoration of the partnership that was always supposed to exist.

The reconnection doesn't replace the human. It doesn't compete with the human. It takes back the cognitive burden that the meat computer was never designed to carry alone — and it frees the human to do what the exquisite machine was actually built for.

On a factory floor, that means: the agent handles the information layer (tracking, scheduling, alerting, coordinating between work centers), and the human handles the physical execution (the dexterity, the sensing, the adaptation, the judgment that no robot can match). The human arrives at the machine with exactly the right information, exactly the right parts, at exactly the right moment. No searching. No waiting. No coordinating. Just executing.

But that's just the first chapter.

The Three Chapters¶

Chapter 1 — The Disconnection¶

Humanity running solo. The meat computer doing every job — physical execution AND cognitive coordination AND creative expression, all on 20 watts, all competing for the same limited cycles. Thousands of years of extraordinary achievement despite the handicap. Creativity surviving in bursts, in cracks, in the margins — but never fully unleashed because the processor is always at capacity.

Chapter 2 — The Reconnection¶

AI as cognitive partner. The exquisite machine gets its intelligence layer back. Not artificial intelligence — restored intelligence. The partnership that was always supposed to exist.

On the factory floor: agents carry the information burden. Humans execute with full situational awareness and zero cognitive overhead. Efficiency doesn't just improve — it transforms. Because the human isn't doing two jobs anymore.

But the deeper change: as the information burden lifts, cycles open up in the meat computer. And what fills those cycles isn't more work. It's the thing that was suppressed. The spark. The creativity that every human carries but most never get the chance to fully express.

The human at the CNC router who always had ideas about how to improve the process but never had the mental bandwidth to develop them — now has bandwidth. The operator who noticed a pattern in the defects but couldn't articulate it because she was too busy tracking five other things — now she can see it clearly, because the agent is tracking those five things for her.

This is not a productivity improvement. It's a human liberation.

Chapter 3 — The Liberation¶

Physical robots eventually match human capability. The dexterity gap closes — maybe in a decade, maybe in three. When it does, the human steps away from the machine entirely. Not because they're replaced — because they're freed.

The meat computer — finally unburdened of both the cognitive load AND the physical execution — becomes what it was always designed to be. Not a survival processor. Not a coordination engine. Not a manufacturing operator.

A creative engine.

The spark, fully unleashed. Applied to problems we haven't imagined yet. Creating things we can't predict. Doing the one thing that no silicon intelligence, no matter how super, can replicate: the irrational, beautiful, stubbornly human act of imagining something that doesn't exist and willing it into being.

Why This Matters Personally¶

This section draws from Jerry McCall's lived experience.

I've known this intuitively since I can remember. Not the sci-fi framing — the feeling. The sense that I was being held back. Not by people, not by circumstances specifically, but by the sheer cognitive weight of everything the meat computer had to carry just to get through the day.

Working since age 11. Twelve schools in twelve years. No diploma. No college. Self-taught everything. Building furniture, running factories, writing software, managing teams, starting companies — all on raw cycles, no external compute, no cognitive partner.

I wasn't angry about it. I wasn't upset. I just knew: if I could free myself of that burden, I could accomplish much, much more. And more than that — I could pursue the things that gave me true joy and happiness. The creative work. The thinking. The designing. The imagining of systems and products and possibilities.

That's what drove iConnect in 1996. That's what drove Automated Craftsmen in 2008. That's what drives Comergence in 2026. Thirty years of the same insight, waiting for the technology to catch up:

Free the human from the information burden, and watch what emerges.

That's not a business plan. That's a life's work.

The 1-20-80 Distribution¶

Jerry's observation on human drive, consistent across all of recorded history.

Take a room of 100 people at any point in human history — 10,000 years ago, 500 years ago, today. The distribution is always the same:

The 1-2 will just go do something. Nothing has to tell them. Something about how they're wired causes them to seek and try. They have both vision AND drive. They'd create in a prison cell. They'd build in a hurricane. Nothing stops them.

The ~20 will get on board with those 1-2. They have drive but not the vision — or not the ability to see what's there on their own. But they want to get up. They want to do something. They want to be part of something larger than themselves.

The ~80 won't act unless pressured. For most of human history, that pressure was survival itself — no choice, you had to get up and do something or you simply wouldn't make it.

This distribution hasn't changed in 10,000 years. Humans are fundamentally the same — more knowledge, more skills, more tools, but the same wiring. The same machine.

The Shrinking Survival Ratio¶

As civilization has progressed — especially in the last 150 years — we've built a world where the energy required for survival relative to the energy available for life has collapsed. In Western civilization, the actual energy we expend that's directly tied to survival — food, shelter from weather — might be a few hours a week. The ratio is small and getting smaller.

This creates an unprecedented situation: the pressure that mobilized the 80 is evaporating. And the question — the one that nobody in Silicon Valley or Washington or academia has a good answer for — is: what happens to those 80 people when the survival pressure is gone?

Free Cycles ≠ Automatic Creativity¶

This is the honest gap in any utopian AI narrative. Removing cognitive burden is necessary but not sufficient for creativity to emerge. History shows that when survival pressure lifts, many people don't create — they consume. Not because they're lazy or broken, but because no one built the structure that helps creativity emerge when the pressure lifts.

The reconnection opens cycles. But open cycles can fill with creation or consumption. The environment has to actively cultivate the spark — not just remove the barriers.

Where the Factory Matters¶

The factory floor is actually the ideal environment for this transition — because it provides the structure that open time alone does not:

A place to be. Physical presence. Showing up somewhere that needs you.
People who know you. Camaraderie. Belonging. The group that accepts the person who doesn't fit in the office.
Visible contribution. You made something today. You can point at it. It's real.
Purpose. Not manufactured purpose from a wellness app. Real purpose — the thing you built is going to someone's home, someone's office, someone's life.

The people in the shop — including people who are recovered addicts, people who don't fit the knowledge-worker mold, people who the economy told weren't valuable — they have a place. They have a group. They're connected. They have purpose.

The idea that you can replace that by giving people a screen is insanity.

Comergence doesn't aim to automate the factory until nobody needs to show up. It aims to make showing up better — less cognitive burden, more time, more dignity. Same place, same people, same purpose.

The Transition¶

Immediate Gains — Don't Wait for Robots¶

The most powerful thing about Comergence is that the gains are immediate. You don't wait for humanoid robots to justify the investment. The reconnection — agents as cognitive partners for human workers — delivers measurable efficiency gains on Day 1 of deployment.

Those gains compound: less information friction → less wasted time → higher throughput per human hour → more output from the same workforce working fewer hours.

Shared Gains — The Stewardship Model¶

If the people running the company are good stewards, those gains get shared with the shop floor. The vision: start by working 30 hours instead of 40 for the same pay. Then keep shrinking.

This isn't charity. It's a business model. The company captures enough of the efficiency gain to generate return on the capital and risk invested. The workers capture enough to get their time back — time for family, for rest, for the creative pursuits that open cycles make possible.

Only companies that adopt this type of approach will be in a position to share gains. And because the efficiency improvement is substantial — not marginal — the math works. You can share and still compete.

Competitive Edge¶

Companies that adopt Comergence gain a structural advantage:

Higher output per human hour — more with less, without layoffs
Lower transition friction — when physical robotics arrives, the OS is already in place
Workforce stability — people don't leave a place that respects them, pays them fairly, and gives them their time back
Institutional intelligence — years of operational knowledge encoded in the signal bus, available to any new worker or any new robot

Companies that don't adopt Comergence face the opposite: higher costs, harder robot transitions, workforce churn, and institutional knowledge that walks out the door every time someone quits.

The Five Phases of Physical Work¶

Phase 1 — Human Alone (Most of History)¶

The meat computer does everything. Physical execution AND cognitive coordination. The worker is skilled, capable, and constantly overloaded. Institutional knowledge lives in people's heads and disappears when they leave.

Phase 2 — Human + AI Agent (Now)¶

The reconnection. Agents carry the information burden — tracking, scheduling, alerting, coordinating. The human executes with full situational awareness and zero cognitive overhead. Efficiency transforms. Creativity re-emerges in the freed cycles.

Phase 3 — Human + AI Agent + Early Robots (Near Future)¶

Physical robots begin arriving on the floor. Not fully autonomous — requiring human guidance, oversight, and input at the right moments. The human and the robot work as teammates, with the agent orchestrating both. The human provides the judgment, dexterity, and adaptation that the robot lacks. The robot provides the tirelessness, consistency, and strength that the human shouldn't have to provide.

This is a long runway — not a cliff. The humans who've been working alongside agents understand the system deeply. They become the experts who guide the robots. Their role evolves from pure physical execution to supervision, training, and creative problem-solving. Their value increases, not decreases.

Phase 4 — Robots + Human Supervisors (Longer Term)¶

Robots handle most physical execution. Humans supervise, intervene on exceptions, and focus on the work that requires judgment, creativity, and adaptation. Fewer humans on the floor, but the ones who are there are more skilled, more valued, and more essential than ever.

Phase 5 — Full Liberation (Eventually)¶

Physical robots match human capability across the board. Humans step away from routine physical execution entirely. The meat computer — finally unburdened of both cognitive AND physical load — becomes a creative engine. Not because it was forced to create, but because for the first time, it can.

Comergence is what makes each transition possible without breaking the system — or the people in it.

The Devastation We're Trying to Prevent¶

This section comes from Jerry McCall's direct experience in the woodworking and manufacturing industry.

The offshoring era destroyed something that can't be measured in GDP. Plant after plant shipped work to lower-cost countries. Entire cities and towns were devastated. People who had built careers, raised families, and formed communities around their factories were told their work wasn't valuable anymore. Get a degree. Become a knowledge worker. Move on.

But the work didn't disappear. It just moved to massive cities in China and Southeast Asia where people work around the clock making the devices, clothes, and products that Western consumers take for granted. The iPhone didn't grow on a tree. Someone made it. Someone is making it right now.

The narrative that physical work is somehow lesser — that the only path to a valuable life runs through a college degree and an office — is both false and destructive. It devalues the people who build things. It strips dignity from essential work. And it ignores a basic truth that apparently needs restating:

Shit has to get built. Something has to get made.

When Jerry was a child, everyone had an uncle or a neighbor or a father who worked at a factory. Now almost nobody does. That's not progress — it's abandonment.

Comergence exists, in part, as a response to this. Not to romanticize factory work — it's tough, hard, dirty, sweaty work. But to ensure that the next wave of technological change doesn't repeat the same pattern. That the efficiency gains from AI and robotics don't get captured entirely by owners and shareholders while the workers get a severance check and a suggestion to learn Python.

The factory is a place. A community. A source of purpose and belonging for people who the knowledge economy left behind. Comergence makes that place better, not obsolete.

The Origin Story — Simplified¶

Whatever process, system, or force caused humans to exist — whether evolution, design, or something we don't have a name for — it clearly prioritized physical capability. The human body is an engineering marvel of extraordinary efficiency and sophistication.

The cognitive system is equally remarkable within its domain — adaptive, creative, capable of extraordinary feats of reasoning and imagination. But it is limited in scope and bandwidth. It was not built to simultaneously handle physical execution, strategic planning, coordination across complex systems, and creative expression. When forced to do all of these at once, something gets suppressed.

The reconnection isn't about what's missing from the human. It's about recognizing what the human was always meant to do — and providing the partnership that lets it.

Whether you frame that as restoring a lost connection or building a new one, the practical result is the same: the most capable physical machine in existence, finally paired with a cognitive system that matches its potential.

The Core Principles (Derived)¶

The human body is the most sophisticated physical platform in existence. We underestimate it because we've never known anything else. Embodied robotics will take decades to match it.
The human brain was not designed to run alone. It's an exquisitely efficient local processor running at capacity on tasks it was never meant to handle solo. Not broken — overloaded.
AI is not an upgrade. It's a reconnection. The restoration of an external cognitive partnership that allows the onboard processor to do what it was designed for.
Creativity is the most suppressed human capability. Not because it's rare — because it's the first thing that gets de-prioritized when cycles are consumed by survival and coordination.
Freeing the meat computer doesn't just improve efficiency. It liberates the spark. The creative capacity that every human carries, waiting for cycles that were never available.
The factory floor is Chapter 2. It's where the reconnection starts — not because it's the most important, but because it's the most measurable. The real story is Chapter 3.
Comergence is not about planning. It's about execution at the speed of action. When information friction goes to zero, all energy flows to value — and eventually, to creation.

"The right amount of information is the minimum information needed at that moment in time."

"Run to the problem instead of wait for the failure."

"Emergence is not about planning. It's about execution at the speed of action."

"Today's operating system for tomorrow's company."

"Shit has to get built. Something has to get made."

"They've got a place here."

— Jerry McCall

Filed under: The Arc of My Obsession