December 2024
The Art of Selling Tomorrow
How Tech Giants Hype the Future to Sell the Present
7 min read
Kasper Svenning
Growing up, I embraced the universal childhood tradition of asking my parents, ”Are we there yet?” whenever we went on a trip. To keep my spirits high and avoid tantrums, my parents — like countless others — offered the comforting and optimistic answer: “Yes, my dear, we are almost there.”
Having heard this empty promise over and over again, I eventually stopped believing we’d ever reach our destination. Fast forward 30 years, and here I am, hearing the same kind of false promises from tech giant CEOs who claim that we are “this close” to solving all our problems.
I understand the CEOs. We all want to believe that technological breakthroughs are just around the corner. Our planet is facing plenty of challenges: pollution, overpopulation, starvation, traffic, and even wars.
Our chaotic situation calls for heroes, which has naturally led us to look toward tech companies as our great saviors. Surely, the people behind our smartphones, apps, and electric cars will fix it all before it's too late.
I truly want us to find a more balanced and sustainable way of living. But I don’t buy into the prophecy of tech magically solving all our problems any time soon.
That said, this article isn’t about bashing tech companies. It’s a reflection on how the tech industry taps into our collective optimism as a marketing strategy to sell products today.
“We’re This Close”
Selling the idea of a brighter future is nothing new — it's the heart of marketing. It’s what every advertising agency does: sell a vision of a better tomorrow achieved through the purchase of a product.
Over the years, we've seen iterations of phrases like “Just imagine if…” designed to capture our imaginations and nudge us toward decisions like, "Maybe it’s time for a new pair of sunglasses," or "Maybe I should lose some weight."
I have no issue with this approach. I’m perfectly fine with companies promoting their vision of the future, but only when there’s an actual product behind it. “Here’s how we envision the best possible headphones," or "This is what we think the next generation of footwear should look like.” These are legitimate aspirations, as I can buy into them. I can hold the new Sony PlayStation in my hands. I can experience the future promised.
But today, there’s a noticeable shift in the way some tech companies are marketing their products. It’s no longer just about selling us a vision of a better future; now, they’re selling us the idea that this future is almost here — just around the corner.
These companies are no longer just offering us a glimpse of what could be — they’re positioning their products as tickets to an impending revolution, one that promises to change everything, but without a clear timeline.
This represents a fundamental change in marketing strategy. Instead of selling us an idea about a better future, they’re asking us to buy in now, promising that we’ll be ready for the future when it arrives — whenever that may be.
The Masters of the Almost-There
I’m not a tech skeptic. I love tech. I enjoy all the smart, quirky, and even impractical gadgets the tech world has to offer. The buzz that surrounds the launch of a new innovation is thrilling — there’s something undeniably exciting about it.
But here’s the thing: after hearing one too many promises from tech CEOs about revolutionary breakthroughs that never quite materialize, I’ve started to feel disillusioned. The problem isn’t the technology itself — it’s the repeated assurances that “the future is just around the corner,” when in reality, we’re still waiting.
I have a few examples of “almost there” tech to share — some you’ve probably heard of, a couple that might be new to you, and even one that I’ve experienced firsthand.
Case 1: The Elusive Self-Driving Cars
Elon Musk has long promised that Tesla’s fully self-driving cars are just around the corner, but reality tells a different story.
Back in 2015, Musk confidently stated the technology would be ready by 2018. In 2019, he upped the ante with a bold claim: Tesla would launch a fleet of “robotaxis” within a year. Fast forward to 2024, and while Tesla’s Full Self-Driving (FSD) software has seen progress, it still requires human oversight, far from the fully autonomous vehicles Musk envisioned.
Critics, such as The Verge in their article "Dude, Where Is My Self-Driving Car?", argue that these promises often serve to generate hype and investment rather than reflect realistic timelines.
Though advancements in autonomous driving have been made (as seen with Waymo in San Francisco), the dream of universally safe, fully autonomous cars remains just that — a dream.
Case 2: The Boring Company Replacing Railroads
Elon Musk’s Boring Company was pitched as a game-changer for urban transportation, promising to replace traditional railroads with underground high-speed tunnels.
However, the reality has fallen far short of this vision. Current projects, such as the Las Vegas Loop, involve Teslas being manually driven through tunnels rather than the advanced, fully automated systems originally envisioned.
Adding a controversial twist, Musk reportedly admitted to his biographer that he created the Boring Company not to revolutionize transportation but to delay the expansion of California’s high-speed rail system.
This revelation has fueled skepticism about the company's true intentions, suggesting its bold promises may have been more about diverting attention from competing infrastructure projects than delivering innovative solutions.
And, well, adding to the shadiness, a tunnel system for cars conveniently aligns with the interests of someone who also happens to run a major car company.
Case 3: OpenAI’s Ambitions for AGI
OpenAI, led by Sam Altman, frequently discusses the development of Artificial General Intelligence that could rival or surpass human cognitive abilities. While AGI holds immense theoretical promise, it remains far from realization. The narrative of being “close” to AGI helps fuel interest and investment in OpenAI’s existing products.
However, these tools are specialized and task-specific, far from achieving the broad intellectual capabilities that define AGI.
Critics argue that while OpenAI’s progress in AI is undeniably impressive, the recurring claim that AGI is "just around the corner" might serve more to sustain excitement and secure funding than to reflect actual technological progress. After all, developing advanced AI systems—and the expensive chips they require — doesn't come cheap.
Case 4: Rabbit’s LAM for Personal Action Management
The last case is particularly frustrating for me. When I first heard about the Rabbit r1, it took me just 20 minutes to read everything about it and place an order. I was instantly drawn to its bright orange color and quirky design, crafted by my favorite design agency, Teenage Engineering.
But every time I power on the device, hoping to experience the next “fantastic update,” I find myself quickly turning it off, realizing I’ve been duped by marketing yet again. Now, the device sits on my table as a constant reminder not to fall for the hype — though I inevitably do whenever a new update is announced.
Rabbit AI pitched the idea of a Large Action Model (LAM) — a tool designed to autonomously manage tasks and make decisions for its users. The Rabbit r1 was marketed as a groundbreaking intelligent assistant that could truly act on your behalf. Yet, several updates later, it struggles to even give me a reliable weather forecast.
The Cult of “Almost”
The examples above should be enough to make us question the credibility of tech CEOs' promises. But their words don’t just fade into the ether — they’ve taken root in communities around the world. These promises have become more than just marketing; they’ve birthed entire ecosystems — online forums, fanbases, and investors who amplify and defend these visions, turning them into collective beliefs.
People don’t just support these companies because they believe in the technology; they’ve become emotionally invested in the promises themselves. The vision becomes their vision. And when it doesn’t deliver, they don’t just feel let down — they feel betrayed. Sound familiar? Cough, cough, crypto.
The Perfectly Fine Present
Tech promises endure because they appeal to a fundamental human trait: the desire to believe in progress. We want to feel like we’re on the brink of solving enormous challenges: climate change, smarter transportation, enhanced productivity — with the tools these companies promise to deliver. This optimism makes us eager to embrace what’s available now, convinced it’s a stepping stone toward the transformative future we’ve been sold.
But as we navigate this constant stream of promises, it’s worth reflecting: how much of this narrative is genuinely about progress, and how much is simply about selling the present? It’s not that the current technologies lack value — they often have incredible potential, even in their current form. Take AI chatbots, for instance. This article itself was written with the help of ChatGPT and Google Gemini, demonstrating a clear, practical use case for these tools today. No doubt about it.
The issue lies in how these tools are framed. Instead of being celebrated for what they already accomplish, they’re positioned within an almost mythic narrative of impending obsolescence and world-altering change. This creates unnecessary pressure: “Learn it now, or risk being left behind.” Instead of appreciating the technology for its actual capabilities, we’re nudged to see it as a prelude to something bigger — something that always seems just out of reach.
Perhaps it’s time to pause and appreciate the present for what it is — flawed, yes, but also remarkable. Progress is not a race to the next breakthrough; sometimes, it’s in recognizing how far we’ve already come. Let’s celebrate the tools we have, not for the future they might bring, but for the ways they already enrich our lives.
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