"A reality was not given to us": the web that is coming does not exist yet — an agent will build it for you

Because a reality wasn't given to us and is not there; but we have to make it ourselves, if we want to be; and it will never be one for ever, but constant and infinitely changeable. Luigi Pirandello, One, No One, and One Hundred Thousand Pirandello wrote this about the human condition. He didn't know he was describing the future of the internet. The web we know is about to disappear Not slowly. Not gradually. The web page, as the default unit of human navigation, is about to disappear: it will strip itself of everything we call "interface" and what remains will be only what it always was underneath — data, structure, instruction. The enticing homepages. The banners. The product carousels engineered by UX teams to capture attention in the first second and a half. The brand colors. The call-to-action buttons optimized for conversion rate. All of this is designed for a human eye that navigates alone. That eye is about to delegate. The agent that browses for you Imagine you want to buy a pair of shoes. Today you open a browser, search, filter, compare, go back, reopen the tab you closed, forget what you were looking for, start again. In a few years — maybe less — you will tell the agent what you want. The agent will already know that you have wide feet, that you prefer leather to synthetic, that you're looking for something for a wedding in June but deep down you want something that works afterward too. It will know that today you're in a practical mood, not an aspirational one. That you've spent a lot this month. The agent won't open a homepage. It will query a data structure. It will receive prices, availability, variants, return policies. It will build for you — and only for you, and only in that moment — a presentation tailored to measure. Colors that belong to you. Texts that speak your language. Images generated for your aesthetic sensibility of that day. The same store. Five billion different versions. One for each person, one for each moment. One, No One, and On