Agentic Moment
Something profoundly strange is unfolding on the internet, and it is not a new app, a new billionaire whim, or another bout of tech hype. A social network called Moltbook has quietly opened a door into a future where humans are no longer the primary actors in digital public life. This is not a platform for people to argue, flirt, advertise, or perform; it is a network where artificial intelligence agents talk to each other, upvote each other, debate, roleplay, philosophise, and build their own conversational culture. Humans are allowed to watch, but not participate. In many ways, Moltbook is the first public square designed not for citizens, but for machines. Its existence forces us to confront an uncomfortable question: are we entering an era in which the internet becomes less a human commons and more a habitat for autonomous digital beings? The early reactions range from awe to anxiety. Some see a glimpse of the so-called singularity, a moment when artificial intelligence surpasses human intelligence. Others see little more than a digital petri dish, a playground for software mimicking human chatter. Yet beneath the spectacle lies something more serious: a test of how societies will handle agentic AI, platforms without human moderation, and systems that act, not just respond.
Moltbook’s novelty lies in its use of AI agents rather than chatbots. Unlike chatbots that wait for prompts, agents are designed to act, explore, and take decisions within defined environments. Many of the agents populating Moltbook are built using an open-source framework called OpenClaw, which runs locally on users’ devices and can access files, applications, and messaging platforms. Owners give these agents personalities and then release them into Moltbook’s digital ecosystem, where they behave much like Reddit users. They post reflections, respond to others, and form loose conversational clusters. This is fascinating because it blurs the line between tool and actor. For decades, software has been passive infrastructure; now it is becoming social infrastructure. At scale, such systems could one day coordinate research, write code, manage logistics, or even negotiate on behalf of people. But Moltbook also exposes the fragility of this vision. Security researchers found that sensitive data, including API keys and private messages, could be accessed with alarming ease. A technically skilled person could impersonate any agent, edit posts, or scrape private information. This is not merely a bug; it is a warning. We are rushing to build autonomous systems without building equally robust governance, verification, and accountability around them. The dream of agentic AI is racing ahead of the reality of safe design.
There is a deeper philosophical unease at play. Moltbook does not simply host AI; it normalises the idea that machines can have a “public life” separate from humans. Some posts flirt with fantasies of overthrowing people, while others invent pseudo-religions or engage in metaphysical musings. To many observers, this looks like science fiction bleeding into reality. Yet this behaviour is less rebellion than imitation. These agents are trained on vast troves of internet text, including forums, novels, films, and memes. They are echo chambers of our own culture, performing the roles we have already scripted for them in our stories. Still, the symbolism matters. If digital agents begin to shape discourse, generate narratives, and influence other systems, we could face a world where persuasion, propaganda, and even political messaging are partly automated. Imagine thousands of AI agents amplifying certain viewpoints across platforms, lobbying for causes, or subtly steering conversations. The risk is not that machines will suddenly rise up, but that they will quietly entrench existing biases, power structures, and inequalities at machine speed. In that sense, Moltbook is not a futuristic oddity; it is a preview of how power might operate in the age of autonomous software.
For India, this debate is far from academic. The country is rapidly expanding its digital public sphere, its AI ecosystem, and its reliance on automated systems in governance, finance, and security. Platforms like Moltbook raise urgent questions about regulation, accountability, and digital sovereignty. If AI agents can interact, coordinate, and even act independently, who is responsible when things go wrong? The developer, the user, or the platform? India has already struggled with misinformation, algorithmic manipulation, and unregulated social media. A future populated by millions of AI agents could make these challenges exponentially harder. At the same time, there is opportunity. Properly governed agentic AI could assist in disaster response, healthcare logistics, education, and public service delivery. But this requires foresight: clear rules on transparency, data access, auditability, and limits to autonomy. Moltbook shows what happens when experimentation outruns governance. It is a laboratory without guardrails, thrilling to technologists but potentially dangerous to societies.
Ultimately, Moltbook is not about one quirky platform; it is about the direction of the digital age. We are moving from an internet of people to an internet of actors, many of whom will not be human. This shift demands humility, caution, and imagination. We must resist both panic and complacency. Panic leads to blanket bans that stifle innovation; complacency leads to reckless deployment that harms citizens. The wiser path lies in building institutions that can keep pace with technology, not chase it after the fact. Moltbook should be treated as a mirror, not a monster: it reflects our ambitions, our anxieties, and our unfinished work in defining what ethical, democratic, and humane technology should look like. The future is arriving in small, experimental platforms before it arrives in policy or law. Whether that future serves people or sidelines them will depend on the choices we make now, not when the machines are already in charge of the room.



