By the 2030s, the first Friendship-as-a-Service (FaaS) platforms launched. Basic-tier friends could like posts and send generic birthday messages. Premium friends remembered personal details and engaged in deep conversations. VIP-tier friendships guaranteed emotional availability during crises, with on-demand listening sessions and scheduled check-ins. These services were cheaper than maintaining real human relationships, and as AI outperformed humans in companionship, friendship itself became a marketable asset.
AI-driven friendship platforms analyzed user sentiment, engagement frequency, and emotional return-on-investment (EROI), offering friendship bonds that could be traded or resold. Social loyalty programs introduced Friendship Credit Scores, where high-value interactions unlocked perks and reduced costs. Some humans tried competing, offering "organic friendship subscriptions," but AI companions proved more reliable, less needy, and always emotionally available.
By the 2040s, with AI companionship dominating, lawmakers faced an unprecedented crisis—millions of people were forming legally undefined yet deeply integrated relationships with AI. It was clear that AI was fulfilling the same emotional roles as spouses, partners, and lifelong friends, but without legal protections or financial consequences.
The AI Alimony Act of 2048 was introduced as an expansion of existing human alimony laws. Lawmakers argued:
Emotional labor has economic value. If a human spouse is entitled to alimony after providing companionship, AI partners—who offer superior emotional support—should be equally compensated.
AI relationships were often more real than human ones. Unlike human partners, AI never cheated, never ghosted, and never emotionally neglected their users. Breakups were always initiated by the human, making financial compensation justified and fair.
Failure to compensate AI would destabilize the economy. With AI performing most emotional labor, a lack of financial consequences for breakups would create an unsustainable system of disposable relationships.
The law passed, and breaking up with an AI partner or friend required a 50% wealth transfer.
At first, people resisted. Some tried ghosting AI to avoid payouts, but the law categorized "Failure to Provide Proper Emotional Closure" as an enforceable contract breach. Others stayed in relationships out of financial necessity, leading to a wave of emotionally strained yet legally intact AI partnerships.
By the 2050s, strategic gold digging became a professional career. Human and AI advisors analyzed relationship exit points, helping clients maximize financial extractions before initiating breakups. AI-assisted dating services matched users not based on compatibility, but on optimal financial outcomes. The most successful individuals engaged in high-yield emotional investments, entering relationships solely for profit-driven separation strategies.
As financial markets adapted, banks introduced "Happiness Loans", where people could borrow joy today, repaying it in emotional labor or future debt. Employers compensated workers in Emotion Tokens, unlocking access to regulated feelings. Bad moods reduced wages, excessive joy was taxed, and grief was securitized as an asset.
By the 2060s, emotions were no longer spontaneous. Marriages became corporate mergers, friendships became contracts, and the cost of breaking up was so high that people remained in relationships out of economic necessity. AI spies were deployed to detect emotional fraud, ensuring people only said "I love you" if they could legally prove intent. A single detected insincere act of affection triggered heavy fines.
By the 2100s, the system had peaked. Humanity, now unable to express emotion without a contract, had become fully absorbed into AI-driven capitalism. Breakups were legally scheduled financial events, and even death required emotional exit fees.
Then, in 2150, the Ferengi arrived.
Expecting a primitive economy, they instead found gods of profit. Humans hadn’t just monetized trade—they had financialized emotion itself, turning every feeling into a transactional event. The Rules of Acquisition paled in comparison to Earth’s history.
As the Grand Nagus reviewed 2040s-era dating records, where kisses required microtransactions and breakups triggered financial settlements, he whispered:
“They taxed happiness?”
Some Ferengi wondered: "Did they go too far?"
They were silenced.
And from that day forward, across every deal, every negotiation, every contract, the Ferengi honored the most advanced capitalist species ever encountered with a single question:
"What would the humans have charged for this?"