Patti Harrison on Social Media, AI and Why Silicon Valley's Utopian Pitch Fell Flat

Comedian Patti Harrison tells WIRED that the tech industry's promises of a better world through social media and AI have curdled into something far darker.
Patti Harrison once believed the internet could build a fairer, kinder world. That belief is gone. In a new interview with WIRED, the comedian and former Shrill writer said the tech industry's grand promises — connection, progress, a better society — have given way to surveillance, algorithmic manipulation and a culture she no longer recognizes as utopian.
Harrison's disillusionment is not abstract. She built an audience on platforms that now shape what she can say and who sees it. The comedian, who has appeared in Together Together and I Think You Should Leave, described social media as a machine that rewards outrage over craft, and said the same dynamics are now creeping into AI-generated content and the tools that produce it.
Her sharpest material has come from an unlikely target: Boston Dynamics' robot dogs. Harrison impersonates the machines — their stiff gaits, their uncanny obedience — and the bit lands because the robots are genuinely unsettling to watch. She told WIRED that audiences laugh at the dogs precisely because they sense something off about them, a discomfort that maps onto broader anxieties about automation and who controls it.
That discomfort is not misplaced. Boston Dynamics, now owned by Hyundai, has spent years refining quadruped robots for inspection, security and defense work. The company's Spot units have appeared at construction sites, police departments and military exercises. Harrison's parody works because it treats the hardware as a personality rather than a product, and the joke exposes how much of the industry's cheerleading depends on stripping machines of their context.
Harrison's critique lands at a moment when public trust in tech firms is thin and regulators are circling. She is not a policy expert and does not pretend to be one, but her perspective carries weight because she spent years inside the content economy that AI companies now want to automate. The comedians, writers and performers who made those platforms valuable are the same people whose work is being scraped and synthesized without consent.
What comes next is unclear. Harrison did not offer a fix, and the interview does not pretend one exists. The open question is whether the creative class that once bought into the internet's promise will keep supplying the culture that tech firms sell back to them — or whether the joke, eventually, is on the people still laughing.