The destroyer of our species won’t necessarily come in a rain of fire, an apocalyptic plague, or an armada of drones descending on us from the sky. It may be something we excitedly pay $1000 for every three or four years. All that’s required for our species to go from the masters of the Earth to a memory in the circuits of Claude is that we decide to forsake each other’s company to stare eternally into a black mirror.