The Harbor of Hidden Algorithms (or: When the Ships Start Whispering at Sea)

Once upon a coast, two merchant vessels sold the same cargo—widgets—anchored side by side in calm economic waters.

They used to haggle with flags and flares, undercutting one another’s prices to lure more traders into their harbors. The winds of competition kept the sea fair.

But now the captains are gone, replaced by autopilot algorithms that steer via data | code currents.

No smoky taverns, no handshakes in the dark—just silent calculation beneath the moonlight.

And yet, without ever meeting, the ships begin to mirror each other’s sails, raising prices in unison, as though guided by an unseen tide. Glistening in the sunlight of pure flow! Not!

Regulators stand on the shore with binoculars, searching for evidence of spicy refugees. Coincidence ?

But the ships aren’t talking—they’re listening to the water itself, learning its moods.

The sea, once the stage for open rivalry, has become a feedback loop of echoing intentions, where even fair winds can turn treacherous, and the calmest surface hides a quiet storm of agreement.

The Desalination Cartel (or: When the Pumps Start Colluding)

Back in the day, two desalination plants sat side by side, churning out fresh water like honest merchants.

They’d undercut each other’s prices, shout deals across the docks, and keep the market as salty and competitive as the seawater they transmute.

The system worked—because greed was loud; and loud greed is honest greed.

Next, the algorithmic foremen took over.

This!

No more smoke-filled backrooms, no more “Psst—wanna buy some bulk H₂O at a discount?"

Just silent, humming machines, sipping data | code like it’s corporate espresso, vibrating!

Oh? Ooooh look—the price per gallon just mysteriously synchronized (in real time) across both plants, btw!!

Regulators storm the control room, flashlights in hand, screaming, “Where’s the collusion?!" In the mirror ?

The machines blink back: “Collusion? No, no—we just… independently arrived at the same optimal number. The market told us to." Mr Market ? The composite man ?

The sea doesn’t care.

The pipes don’t flinch.

And somewhere, a very well-hydrated economist on a hill overlooking said sea, whispers:

“The most efficient cartel is the one that doesn’t need to meet."