Just like video killed the radio star, the iPhone killed the Blackberry.
So will the new AI-powered phone by OpenAI kill the iPhone?
Not long ago, the BlackBerry was king.
It buzzed in boardrooms and clipped to belts, its tiny keyboard a badge of professional seriousness.
In the mid-2000s, to have a BlackBerry was to be on. It wasn’t just a phone—it was a culture.
Secure, tactile, business-first. It gave rise to the idea that our phones were not just for talking, but for doing.
Then came the iPhone. And everything changed.
Steve Jobs and his right-hand man and product designer Jony Ive’s sleek, screen-dominated vision didn’t just kill the keyboard—it rewrote the rules of human-device interaction.
In 2007, Apple didn't just launch a product. It launched a lifestyle.
One where gestures replaced buttons, touch replaced type, and our phones became extensions of ourselves. It was more than a technological leap—it was a cultural reset.
The iPhone ushered in the age of apps, selfies, endless scrolling, and the dopamine loop that defines our digital existence today.
Now, we stand on the edge of another such shift.
OpenAI’s recent $6.5 billion acquisition of io—a stealthy AI device startup co-founded by Jony Ive himself—signals a moment that feels uncannily familiar.
Much like 2007, we are being nudged toward a new era of personal technology.
But this time, it isn’t about a better screen or a slicker interface.
It’s about removing the screen entirely.
It's about an "iPhone of AI"—not a smartphone replacement, but something more radical: an AI-native device that reimagines how we relate to technology altogether.
What does that look like? We don’t fully know.
OpenAI is playing its cards close.
But whispers suggest a screen-less, always-on companion that perceives your world, digests it, and converses naturally—like a trusted aide in your pocket rather than another glowing rectangle to distract you.
If the BlackBerry was about productivity, and the iPhone about access, the AI-phone may be about understanding.
Understanding context, intent, emotion—even you.
This is not just about hardware. It’s about reclaiming time and attention in a world where digital noise is omnipresent.
The shift OpenAI is pursuing could untether us from our addiction to screens, much in the same way the iPhone unshackled us from buttons.
The irony is almost poetic: Jony Ive, the man who helped design our screen-centric world, now returns to help us transcend it.
And let’s not ignore the symbolism—or the stakes—of this moment.
Sam Altman, OpenAI’s CEO, is no stranger to bold bets. With ChatGPT, he brought generative AI into public consciousness.
Now, in Ive, he has found the ultimate partner for phase two: bringing AI off the cloud and into our lives in a way that feels personal, elegant, and intuitive.
If Apple fused technology and design to make devices we love, this alliance aims to fuse intelligence and presence—to make devices we trust.
This isn’t just a business move.
It’s a cultural one.
A $6.5 billion statement that the future of AI isn’t just code—it’s form, feel, and experience. It’s a nod to the idea that the next frontier isn’t smarter algorithms but smarter interactions.
And it’s a challenge to the rest of Big Tech: Your apps aren’t enough. Your phones aren’t enough. The age of ambient, embodied AI is coming—and the design must be as intelligent as the machine itself.
Back when the BlackBerry ruled, no one imagined they'd trade their click-clack keys for glass.
When the iPhone launched, few predicted it would disrupt not just phones, but cameras, maps, and music.
Today, we can barely conceive of a world where an invisible AI quietly understands and augments our lives in real time.
But if history is any guide, we should expect to be surprised.
This moment isn’t just about what OpenAI is building. It’s about who we become when technology changes how we live.
Again.