Our ruling class has been sneering for months at the local data center backlash that has been springing up across the country. Tech companies ask impatiently who they have to "bribe" to get their centers built in small towns across America.
As Jasmine Sun says of tech executives in a recent interview: "when I talk to them about the build-out, I’m not hearing any sort of personal moral reckoning with slowing A.I. down. I’m hearing: How do I make the bribes bigger? How big do they need to be?"
In a new video essay published yesterday for the New York Times, Ezra Klein points out that many of the people currently building AI—the people who are now telling us that they believe their own creation might kill all humanity within the next decade—also believed that AI posed an existential threat to humankind even before they started building it.
Indeed, they started building it precisely because they thought that someone would eventually build it, and they thought they needed to be the ones to build it in order to ensure it was safe and would serve human interests, because they thought that otherwise it certainly would lead to human extinction.
At the outset of his 1993 book The Anatomy of Antiliberalism, the political theorist Stephen Holmes observes that he is "not worried about the practical consequences" of the anti-liberal theories he explores in the book. At the time he was writing, he says; "[t]hey benefit from historical circumstances that make them politically harmless," he observes.
I have no doubt that this was largely true in the democratic West in 1993. It was certainly something I myself believed the first time I encountered the ideas Holmes describes. As even these illiberal thinkers appear to believe, liberalism seemed so much in the ascendant that it could not seriously be endangered—and therefore its critics could only serve, if anything, as a healthy corrective to its myopia.
In his excellent study of the tropes of anti-liberal thought, The Anatomy of Antiliberalism (1993), Stephen Holmes includes at one point a paraphrase from Joseph de Maistre's notorious discussion of the role of the executioner in society.
"Imagine a philosophical visitor from a foreign planet," Holmes summarizes Maistre's argument, "who has been informed that, on earth, there are two licensed killers. He knows that one, the soldier, kills the innocent, while the other, the executioner, kills the guilty. [...] The extraterrestrial observer is then asked to guess: which one of the two is the most highly honored by human society?"
The national news media have been in the throes all week of an epic freakout about the specter of "AI existential risk." Like a lot of people, I find myself unsure how seriously to take this.
We have to start with a recognition—first off—that the people now estimating the risk of human extinction from AI superintelligence at a one-in-ten chance would have given you roughly the same odds five or ten or twenty years ago.
The Trump administration earned a richly-deserved defeat yesterday in an important First Amendment case. In the wake of ICE's extrajudicial killings of two people in Minnesota earlier this year, a private citizen had sharply criticized the director of the agency in an email and said his conscience would haunt him.
DHS responded by warning the man of potential criminal prosecution, and sent agents to his door to harass and intimidate him.
I was walking through Times Square yesterday and had to dodge a woman with a sign that read: "Jesus is King. Don't Go to Hell!"
I had to sigh that in two thousand years they still haven't come up with a better argument than appeals to spiritual terrorism.
