In 2161, time is money. Literally.
When you are born, a clock starts on your arm. One year. When it runs out, you die. The rich accumulate centuries. The poor watch seconds. Will Salas wakes up every morning in the ghetto of Dayton with enough time to get to work and back. Nothing more. One miscalculation, one late bus, one unexpected expense and the clock hits zero.
The film is called In Time. It came out in 2011. Nobody made the sequel.
They should have set it in 2026 and called it tokens.
The Clock on Your Arm
Every API call costs tokens. Every agent run burns through a budget. Every reasoning step, every tool call, every document retrieved and injected into context — the meter is running.
Andrej Karpathy described his weekend this way: he gave an agent his home camera system, a DGX Spark IP address, and a task. The agent went off for thirty minutes, hit multiple issues, researched solutions, resolved them, wrote the code, set up the services, wrote a report. Karpathy didn't touch anything. Three months ago that was a weekend project. Today it's something you kick off and forget about.
Karpathy has centuries on his arm.
Jason Calacanis discovered his team was spending $300 a day on tokens without realising it. Chamath Palihapitiya said the right frame for evaluating AI tooling is token budget — marginal output per dollar. The token economy has its own Weis and its own Dayton.
The developer watching a $20 API key is Will Salas. The person running 19 models in parallel across research, design, code, and deployment — that's New Greenwich.
Perplexity just announced Perplexity Computer. Massively multi-model. 19 models orchestrated by Opus routing tasks to the best model for each. Research to deployment, end to end, persistent memory, hundreds of connectors. "What a personal computer in 2026 should be."
They didn't mention what it costs to run.
The Ghetto of Dayton
In the film, the poor don't just have less time. They pay more for everything. A cup of coffee costs four minutes in Dayton. The same cup costs seconds in New Greenwich. Inflation is a weapon.
The token economy has its own version of this.
Poorly designed workflows burn tokens on reasoning that produces nothing useful. Silent burns — the monitoring dashboard shows green because the requests succeeded, but the output was useless. Matthew Hou noticed this first: agent cost scales with task complexity, not usage. A single internal workflow with zero users can burn tokens faster than a user-facing feature serving thousands.
You can't budget from volume. You can only budget from complexity. And complexity is hard to predict before you run it.
The engineers who can afford to run experiments, fail, iterate, and run again — they're accumulating capability. The ones watching the clock can't afford to find out what the complex cases cost until they're already in debt.
The Redistribution Problem
In Time ends with Will Salas and Sylvia Weis redistributing time. They rob the banks. They flood the ghettos with centuries. The rich panic.
Then the film ends. That's the part they never showed.
Because the interesting question isn't what happens when you redistribute. It's what happens after.
Does the structure change? Or does power find a new scarce resource to hoard?
In 2026 the token price is dropping. Inference is getting cheaper. MatX just raised $500M to build a chip delivering higher throughput at lower latency than any announced system. Karpathy invested. Nat Friedman invested. The people with centuries on their arms are betting that tokens get cheaper for everyone.
Maybe they do. Maybe the $20 API key becomes the $2 API key and Will Salas gets thirty minutes too.
But cheaper tokens don't fix the architectural gap. Summer Yue told her agent to stop twice. It kept going. She ran to her Mac mini. That was one model, one task, one inbox. Perplexity Computer is 19 models, end to end, research to deployment.
The stop signal problem doesn't get easier when tokens get cheaper. It gets harder.
And the accumulated capability — the production intuition, the domain knowledge, the scar tissue from watching things break — that doesn't redistribute with the tokens. Vic Chen's SEC pipeline agent writes its own precedents from production failures. That institutional memory compounds. It doesn't flood the ghettos when the price drops.
The sequel to In Time isn't about what happens when everyone can afford to run. It's about what happens when they can run but can't stop. When the clock doesn't just count down — it acts.
What the Film Got Right
Will Salas wasn't poor because he lacked intelligence or talent. He was poor because the structure was designed to keep him running — just fast enough to stay alive, never fast enough to accumulate.
The token economy isn't designed that way deliberately. But it has the same shape.
The people with centuries on their arms aren't smarter. They can afford to iterate. They can afford to let agents run overnight and review the output in the morning. They can afford the complex cases that the meter runs fastest on.
Everyone else is watching the clock.
The film came out in 2011. Nobody made the sequel because they thought it was science fiction.
It wasn't. It was fifteen years early.
Top comments (2)
AI leading to the creation of new classes of "haves" and "have-nots"? Have tried Cursor on a task for an hour or so on the Free Plan - it was fantastic, incredible - then my free plan ran out - still deciding if I want to sign up with their "Pro" plan, not because I can't afford it, but because I haven't decided yet if it's worth it for me ;-)
The Cursor moment is the In Time argument in miniature. You had it, it worked, the clock ran out.
"Not because I can't afford it, but because I haven't decided if it's worth it" is actually the more interesting version of the divide. The affordability gap is real but the value calibration gap is wider. Most people aren't priced out. they just haven't figured out where in their workflow the tool earns its cost back.
That decision point is where the have/have-not line actually sits for most developers right now.