The Primer adapts to Nell because it has no other children to serve.
It doesn't teach her what she needs to know alongside others — it teaches her what she needs to know instead of others.
Watch what actually happens: Nell becomes fluent in multiple languages, mathematics, music, martial arts — alone. She excels at things that require no collaboration, no negotiation, no failure in front of witnesses.
She's not being individualized; she's being isolated and told it's optimization. When Nell finally encounters other people, she doesn't integrate — she dominates, she manipulates. The Primer prepared her for a world that doesn't exist, one where brilliance is enough and where understanding precedes belonging. Stephenson shows this clearly: Nell's greatest vulnerability isn't ignorance, but her inability to want what other people want, to move at their pace, to accept their judgment. Her education gave her the tools to dominate reality but no reason to acknowledge anyone else's claim on it.
We're building Primers now — algorithms that learn your preferences, feeds that adapt to your behavior, recommendation systems that never challenge you with what you didn't already want. We're discovering Nell's discovery: intimacy without reciprocity is just loneliness with better infrastructure.
Read the section where Nell first encounters peers her own age in the Drummers community—specifically how quickly she reverts to dominance rather than connection—then compare it to any moment in your own algorithmically-curated feed where you realized no one disagreed with you.
Look for interviews with Stephenson about the Primer's design in his early 2000s appearances where he explicitly discusses whether personalized education could produce social dysfunction—he's more skeptical than readers remember.