When the multiverse finally got its act together and deployed a shared internet backbone, nobody expected the workforce implications. Most people assumed it would be like any other infrastructure rollout—bigger pipes, faster sync, maybe the occasional support ticket filed by an alternate version of yourself who still insists on using IE6.

But the real breakthrough came from something deceptively simple:

Pull requests across universes.

One Commit, Infinite You

In the old days—meaning, last Tuesday—your work existed only in your own branch of reality. If you built a tool, wrote a paper, or pushed a late-night patch you hoped your manager wouldn’t notice until morning, that was all contained in your universe’s private repo.

Now?

One PR can be shared across infinite versions of you.

• Some variants will approve instantly.
• Some will raise oddly specific objections.
• Some will refactor everything into Rust “because safety.”
• And a few will fork your work into something involving unexpected theological implications, because of course they would.

Still, the end result is spectacular:

• Every version of you collaborates with every other version on anything you choose to publish.
• Collective productivity goes vertical. Technical debt goes horizontal. And the documentation… well, it’s still documentation.

The Side-Effect: Multiverse Dissymmetry

This new system comes with a side-effect the researchers call multiverse dissymmetry — or just dissymmetry if you don’t want to sound like you’re giving a lecture on dark opera.

Dissymmetry is best defined as the imbalance created when your work propagates into universes where the corresponding “you” didn’t create that work.

This might sound dramatic, but here’s the twist:

Dissymmetry doesn’t change the number of you.

It doesn’t merge timelines, split them, retcon them, collapse them, or rearrange them alphabetically. It just rearranges what counts as “your” contribution in the eyes of infinite versions of yourself.

In other words:

It might feel weird, but nothing actually happens.

It’s like cosmic static. Philosophically chewy yet physically uneventful—kind of like trying to decide whether chunky bacon counts as a topping or a lifestyle.

So… Does Dissymmetry Matter?

• No one can prove it matters.
• No one can prove it doesn’t.
• Some universes have built entire academic departments around it.
• Other universes banned the term because it caused too many late-night dorm arguments.
• One universe ignored the whole thing and just kept filing PRs as fast as possible.

The rest of us simply nod, accept that the multiverse is a messy shared workspace, and keep coding.

A Workforce Without Borders

In the end, the Multiverse Workforce isn’t about metaphysics, ethics, or cataloging the behavior of your more eccentric selves.

It’s about this:

Your best ideas are now everyone’s starting point. And if dissymmetry is the price for that? Most versions of you would agree—it’s a fair trade.

The above is written by ChatGPT.

Author's Original AI Prompt:

> Infrastructure support for the multiverse internet allows one universe, for example, to make pull requests for the entire multiverse. By doing so, it allows you to share your work with an infinite number of other instances of yourself.
>
> The side-effect is known as "multiverse dissymmetry," or dissymmetry for short. It is unknown if dissymmetry has any real impact on anything because it doesn't change the number of instances.