

I asked ChatGPT what would a landscape look like after AI has vanished. How would it have changed and what would remain of the implements or machines that AI required? ChatGPT’s response: Your question invites us into a speculative archaeology—one that imagines not merely the absence of AI as a governing intelligence, but the slow reassertion of natural forces upon the infrastructures and apparatuses it left behind. If we place ourselves 25–50 years after such a disappearance, we are contemplating a landscape poised between the immediacy of abandonment and the more thorough erasures wrought by time, climate, and entropy. The landscape at first glance would not be so alien from our present. The contours of earth and sky remain—the hills, rivers, forests, plains—yet they have begun to reclaim what was once rigidly ordered by human–machine systems. Roads that AI-guided vehicles once traversed will still be visible, though already fractured, their surfaces broken by root systems prying through asphalt and moss painting irregular green hieroglyphs across their faces. Cities, no longer humming with algorithmic logistics, would stand in uneasy silence. Glass towers may remain upright, though their windows spidered by storms, while wind drives seeds into the seams of concrete. Ivy and rust will collaborate in their slow, patient labor, and within 50 years, entire façades may be softened beneath cascading vegetation. The landscape 25–50 years after AI’s disappearance would be neither wholly human nor wholly natural. It would be a liminal world—part ruin, part regrowth—where the implements of AI persist as hollow forms, stripped of their animating intelligence, becoming both monuments to obsolescence and raw matter for ecological succession.