Harari spends most of his address establishing terms before asking the question he came to ask. His preliminary work is to dismantle the word tool: a knife's use is decided by whoever holds it, whereas what is arriving decides for itself, and can also invent new kinds of knives. From there he argues that anything constituted by words — law, books, text-centred religion — is exposed, while drawing a firm line at feeling, where he says there is no evidence at all. The structural claim is that the ancient tension between letter and spirit has always run inside humanity and is about to be externalised between humans and the new masters of words. Only then does he arrive at personhood, and his handling is precise: corporations, New Zealand rivers and Indian deities hold legal personhood safely because the decisions are made by humans behind the container. An entity that decides for itself ends that arrangement. He does not answer the question; he tells the room it is coming.