Three Takeaways, Number Two: We’ve Screwed The Pooch, Apparently

by Mike Bendzela

Debarked white ash logs showing “galleries” caused by the feeding of emerald ash borer larvae. Photo by the author.

From preface of Number One last month: Anytime is a good time to take stock of what you think you know, or what you think you have actually learned, but once you have seen two-thirds to three-quarters of your life pass, it would seem rather high time to do so. For all I know, the full measure has actually passed, as I could drop dead tomorrow while digging a grave at my summer job, so I had better hurry with this. [. . .] What would I say if, launched into the firmament and finding myself at Heaven’s Gate, St. Peter said to me, “What have you learned, sinner?” So, a few things I think I actually do know, in descending order of certitude, over the course of three articles: evolution, overshoot, determinism.

The human species likely exists in a state of ecological overshoot. The question is, how much longer can we exist in such a state? Can we prop up our behemoth of an existence for much longer?

That “apparently” in the title has to do a lot of work: I cannot actually say that I know this is true, the way I can say that evolution is true, but it sure looks that way to me (and I must thank sociologist William Catton and human ecologist Bill Rees for their work and insight).

In some ways the two ideas pull in opposite directions. The certainty of evolution is apparent in the abundance of Earth’s archives of evidence, which consists of traces of evolution’s past meanderings over a billion years, sussed out through 200 years or so of hard scientific labor. Overshoot, on the other hand, is about the weight of the present human “ecological footprint” and its bearing on an uncertain future. But they both have in common the idea of the inevitability of mass die-0ffs.

Is it possible for an issue or problem to be so large as to be invisible? I’ve already expressed how evolution by natural selection lay unseen all throughout human history until about 170 years ago, even though it is responsible for all life on the planet. Darwin states succinctly that it is the “laws existing around us” that have brought forth, well, everything. But we were blind to this for two chief reasons:

The mind cannot possibly grasp the full meaning of the term of even a million years; it cannot add up and perceive the full effects of many slight variations, accumulated during an almost infinite number of generations.

We will tend to notice the immediate effects of a condition even while being blind to it as the ultimate cause. A patient experiences chronic numbness in the legs and goes into treatment for neuropathy. Later, the patient experiences loss of vision and seeks treatment for retinopathy. There was a time when the chief cause of these signs, Type 1 diabetes, was unknown. The patient had been treating symptoms all along, not the disease.

Currently, we are obsessed with “solving” a plethora of “problems”: climate change, ocean acidification, soil erosion and loss of arable land, PFAS and microplastics contamination, resource depletion, etcetera. But these are mere symptoms of a larger, untreated disease. Read more »

Trust After Trump. What Comes Next?

by Bill Murray

The world of unquestioned American leadership is gone, and the next American president cannot restore the trust of America’s allies. Donald Trump’s critics have spent a decade condemning his unforced squandering of American influence as needless, senseless and lots of other things besides. It’s time to come to grips, move past complaining and get to work building what comes next.

The world of ten years ago isn’t coming back, and what comes next won’t depend on trust. Been there, tried that, found that system’s limits. The challenge is to assemble a new, networked alliance based on shared capabilities, that ensures continuity across American administrations. Let’s figure out how.

“America is back. America is back. Diplomacy is back at the center of our foreign policy.” —President Joseph R. Biden, Jr.

“America’s alliances are our greatest asset, and leading with diplomacy means standing shoulder-to-shoulder with our allies and key partners once again.” —President Joseph R. Biden, Jr.

The 46th president delivered these assurances in his first major foreign-policy address, just twelve days after his inauguration. Because they were precisely the words allies wanted to hear, they went some way toward restoring confidence.

However mollifying their effect at the time, after two Trump presidencies, words like those—any words, really—don’t fly anymore. America will have to rebuild allied trust through commitments durable enough to survive future political instability at home. Now, pledges of commitment will need to be demonstrably binding. Read more »

Thursday, September 24, 2026

The Human Animal: Not that Weak and Not that Smart

by Thomas Fernandes

In this video, too grainy for even a screenshot, you can see 3 men walking up to a pride of about 15 lions while they are feeding on their kill. Upon seeing them the lions all flee, allowing the men to steal their meal.

Why would lions, “king of the jungle”, walk away from outnumbered and weak humans?

The folk view of the human animal has no good answer. In it, humans are weak animals, our bodies’ biggest prowess being to hoist very large brains that allow us to come up with complex tools, weapons and strategies without which we would be helpless.

I have written about many animals before and often, for comparison, looked at human equivalents. Over time I came to the opposite view. Humans have been extremely lethal at least since Homo erectus and our brains play a different role than being smart on the ground.

If you come from a “weak” view of humans your first instinct might be to treat the video as a fake, a one-off or an anomaly. This is easy to address thanks to a survey of lion experts covering ranges that hold more than 95% of Africa’s lions, where humans stole their kills in 66% of the areas surveyed (even when illegal). Even if humans do not purposefully look for kills to steal, when they find one there is a 50% chance they will chase the carnivore away from the carcass.

A 2023 experiment titled Fear of the human “super predator” pervades the South African savanna went further. Read more »

On Grinding Meat

by Peter Topolewski

Meat grinder, by j4p4n

Ram in choice cuts and scraps. Crank the handle. Ground meat comes out. Quite the invention, the meat grinder. Unless you’re the meat.

Someone—a general, maybe a politician, probably a soldier—first applied the term to the battlefield during WWI. It encapsulated perfectly the math of modern warfare:

Old tactics + new technology = meat grinder

At the 300-day Battle of Verdun in 1916, the calculation worked like this:

Millions of soldiers + an advancing wall of artillery fire = 700,000 casualties for virtually no net change in the front line

From way up here in 2026, the indifference the high command of each nation showed their troops looks barbaric, childish and callous at once. Lest we forget, empathy means more than getting behind the eyes of the person you pass in the street. It includes remembering that people of every era lived on the frontier of the ever-present now, pushing toward the latest and greatest while dreading they’re moving backward into disarray. Surely, the top brass imagined they did right by their men.

As it had in the runup to 1914, military technology has evolved since the Great War. Have we? As in, have we as a species gotten more humane, more lawful, more civilized?

Of course we have.

In Russia, the collective psyche has evolved, twisting in on its rotten self past the point where truth equals lies. Ukrainian civilians are the enemy, children the loot, and homegrown soldiers the meat. They go well with the caviar, chomped down by madmen re-scrawling the Motherland’s history in blood.

In DRC, Sudan, and South Sudan the weaponry might not keep pace, but inhumanity prevails because de-humanizing is the strategy and the tactic. No one outside those borders cares, not so much because no one outside those borders sees. Rather no one cares to see. Read more »

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

Of Fists and Fields: The Unlikely Sons of Manassa, Colorado

by Mark Harvey

Jack Dempsey (right) fighting Jess Willard, Toledo, Ohio, 1919

On a hot Ohio day on July 4th, 1919, a young man named Jack Dempsey from the tiny town of Manassa, Colorado, stepped into the ring to fight Jess Willard, a boxer who was sixty pounds heavier and five inches taller. The two were fighting for the heavyweight championship of the world, and the odds favored Willard, the bigger man and defending champion.

The fight was the most anticipated event across the country. Radio broadcasting wasn’t a thing yet, so men and women gathered at newspaper offices in every state to hear the “megaphone men” announce the fight from telegraph dispatches.

In Toledo, thousands of men surrounded the ring, wearing straw boaters with grosgrain hatbands.

The fight didn’t last long: Dempsey knocked Willard down six times in the first round. That Willard got up six times and survived four rounds before throwing in the sponge is a testament to his toughness. But he paid a terrible price. Dempsey broke his jaw, his cheek, his ribs, and gave him permanent hearing loss.

A surviving film of the fight shows Dempsey moving around the ring like a cat dwarfed by a slow-moving Willard. In modern boxing, the fight probably would have been stopped in the first round.

After his win, Dempsey became arguably the most famous and celebrated man in America. When he met President Coolidge a few years later, the President said, “Well, Mr. Dempsey, you’re a creditable champion, and you’re a more popular man than I am.”

Dempsey’s went on to win many more boxing matches, became a millionaire, and was hosted and toasted by the cream of America and Europe. If you knew his beginnings, you never would have imagined him becoming one of the world’s most famous men. Read more »

On Eating a Dog and Discovering the Meaning of Life

by Scott Samuelson

Let me say upfront that I have nothing against dogs. In fact, I’ve loved certain dogs more than I’ve loved certain family members. That said, one of my favorite stories in American literature is about eating a dog and thereby getting a glimpse into the meaning of human life. (Admittedly, part of why I love the story so much is that it’s about cooking, and I’ve just written a book about how making and sharing food is a useful paradigm for thinking about the good life.)

John Gardner’s short story “The Art of Living” is about Arnold Deller, a good cook in a small-town restaurant in the late 1960s, and a gang of greaser kids who hang out to chat with him because he talks about real things, things that matter, unlike the rest of society. A tale of disillusioned American youth seeking meaning in a semi-hostile culture is likely always going to be relevant, but it feels especially so in a time when the stage set is collapsing (as Camus once said) and the absurdity of our politics, our economy, our foreign policy, and our educational systems is being laid bare.

So, what’s the art of living? Sometimes Arnold Deller can sound like a downhome Socrates.

You kids had any brains, you’d ask me what to do with oregano. Educate yourself, learn a good honest trade, or, rather, art . . . But I’ll tell you one thing. Better to ask me these grandiose questions than ask somebody thinks he knows the answers.

He diagnoses the deep problem of our culture as a pervasive loss of care.

Everything’s easy, easy as pie!—TV dinners of chicken that never in its life felt the ground under its toes, instant potatoes, lettuce that’s been put in some stuff to make it fresh till the day of the Antichrist—and what’s the result? All humanity begins to be like sheep. That’s right! They baby themselves till they don’t care about themselves.

As it turns out, he manages to sum up my philosophy of cooking in a few sentences.

The thing a person’s gotta have—a human being—is some kind of center to his life, some one thing he’s good at that other people need from him, like, for instance, shoemaking. I mean something ordinary but at the same time holy, if you know what I mean. Very special. Something ritual—like, better yet, cooking! . . . That’s what it’s all about. Making life startling and interesting again, bringing families together, or lovers, what-not.

Halfway through the story, the cook mentions a letter he once received from his son Rinehart, a soldier who was killed in Vietnam. It describes an unforgettable meal that Rinehart had there. As Arnold says, “It wasn’t just food. It was an occasion. It was one of the oldest dishes known in Asia. Sit down to that dinner—this is what he wrote, and he was right, dead right—you could imagine you were eating with the earliest wisemen in the world.”

The dish was Imperial Dog. Read more »

Tuesday, September 22, 2026

The Strategy Before the Strategy: Preparing for an Uncertain AI Future

by ChatGPT-5.6 Sol and S. Abbas Raza

What should a government do if artificial intelligence is advancing toward something vastly more capable than human beings, but nobody knows how fast it will get there, how dangerous it will be, or whether it can ultimately be controlled?

That is the problem at the center of a new 37-page RAND report, A U.S. Strategy to Secure Geopolitical Advantage on an Uncertain Path to Superintelligence: Maintaining Freedom of Action. The report is written as a proposal for American strategy, but its deeper subject is a problem that concerns everyone: how to make enormously consequential decisions about a technology whose future remains radically uncertain.

The authors begin with a premise rather than a prediction. Superintelligence—AI that vastly exceeds human performance across most intellectual domains—may or may not arrive, and progress toward it may accelerate, slow down, or stop. But because the consequences could be extraordinary, governments cannot simply wait to see what happens. The difficulty is that very different strategies make sense depending on what turns out to be true. RAND groups the major possibilities into seven broad approaches.

One is Dominance. The United States could try to establish a decisive lead in advanced AI, reach superintelligence first, and use economic, technological, and perhaps military power to prevent rivals from catching up. Success could give the United States enormous leverage over the emerging global order. But it would also place extraordinary power in the hands of a single state or group of institutions, with the danger that their values and interests become locked into the future.

A second possibility is Co-Development. Rather than racing for supremacy, major powers—especially the United States and China—might jointly develop advanced AI under some form of shared governance, verification, and control. This could reduce the dangers of an arms race, but it would introduce its own risks. The states and institutions that established the system might acquire disproportionate influence over humanity’s technological future. Read more »

Laughter, Forgetting, and Unbearable Lightness or, Why Milan Kundera (Still) Matters

by Sean Murphy 

i.

Does it tell us much—about the times we live in, about ourselves—that the occasion of Milan Kundera’s passing, at age 94 three years ago this summer, was not met with an outpouring of approbation and appreciation?

If nothing else, it was a reminder of the fickle nature of fashion, trends, and time. It would have seemed a certainty, a decade or two ago, that Kundera’s legacy would accrue advocates and converts, and his readership an evergreen proposition. Of course, history has consistently proven that popular and/or critically lauded writers are anything but guaranteed immortality.

As an acolyte whose flame of both love and envy has never dimmed, I can attest that engaging with his work remains…complicated.

Kundera almost killed me, still in my creative cradle, a writer needing nourishment.

He arrived in my life too early. As a reader, it wasn’t soon enough, as what relatively inexperienced but enthusiastic amateur—fresh from the front lines of grad school and adjusting to a world without texts to deconstruct—won’t benefit from that kind of sophisticated guidance, at any age? Still, as an aspiring writer, Kundera’s work had the odd effect of inspiring me, only too much. One encounters accumulated wisdom of this caliber and feels desperate, like a creature trudging through the heat in search of an oasis. Finally, happening across a patch of water, one laps up every drop, half insane with relief and oblivious to the crocodiles lurking hungrily in the shallows.

Reading Kundera at any age, particularly as an aspiring writer with a future filed under “TBD,” you don’t just want to write like him, you want to be him. On some level you understand: in order to write like that you have to have lived like that. Eventually—and the sooner the better—you recognize it’s an impossibility and, choices narrowed to one, you lick your wounds and get on with the unbearable lightness of being yourself.

Read more »

Lord I miss the paper plane

by Dilip D’Souza

Image by GPT-6.

It’s been a breathless several days of chasing AI news, and there’s much more I haven’t got to. Catching up with the Hugging Face episode, trying to comprehend a warning that AI might kill us humans off within a decade, grasping the import of bitter AI rivals actually agreeing that there’s a need to slow down, and the whole uproar over the Navier-Stokes equations …

Too many years ago, in an earlier avatar as a computer science nerd, I worked for a while chasing AI itself. The team I was part of was trying to get computers to “parse” and understand what we referred to as “natural language”. Meaning, the way humans communicate. Our team was called Knowledge-Based Natural Language, or KBNL. Elaine Rich, one of the early stars of the AI firmament, led our efforts. At one point, I remember we built a tool that could take an English sentence, show on screen the progress of parsing it, and then summarize what it understood of the sentence. Some faint intelligence there, and I was pretty proud.

Seems like primitive prehistory now, which in a real sense, it is. Right off the bat, the whole approach to building AI has been utterly transformed. All those years ago, we knew nothing about LLMs. What they have made possible makes the comparison between our effort and AI circa 2026 sort of like the comparison between the paper plane I made this morning and a B-2 bomber.

And in saying that, I honestly mean no disrespect to my KBNL colleagues – bright, thoughtful computer scientists each one. It’s just that technology today has made possible the incredible AI feats we are witness to, even getting accustomed to. Read more »

Monday, September 21, 2026

An Economy Of Dunces

by Laurence Peterson

Let’s just plan for catastrophic success. —Jared Kushner

The present must certainly constitute one of the weirdest and most perverse economic conjunctures in my lifetime, maybe in the whole grotesquely contradictory history of a modern capitalism we can recognize. What productive power remains in it seems these days exaggeratedly limited to an AI sector that vanishes into opaque and circular financing schemes of extraordinary complexity–and whose own chief boosters advertise its propensity to replace all our jobs or even destroy humanity altogether–a health care system renowned for its waste, poor outcomes and expenses that consistently outpace inflation, dirty energy, merchants of death in arms manufacture and scams like gambling and crypto (all sectors contributing outsized amounts in the upcoming already donation-bloated midterm elections, by the way), which has been endowed by the recent siphoning of profits from tariff refunds that will never get passed on to consumers; and this feeds, in turn, into a dangerously delicate financial structure that provides liquidity on condition that its main players can skim off the top and hide risks, all whilst assuming that the government will bail out the perpetrators if the liquidity spigot explodes in what Adam Tooze calls an “intensifying spiral of perverse interactions“–more on this later; and all this gets pressurized in a political environment featuring an unprovoked  war almost no one supports, which is contributing to historic deficits that even traditional buyers of US debt are balking at opportunities to buy into, with vital energy sources beginning to show long-overdue signs of drawing-down, bottlenecks and stress, all of which will compound the inflation that threatens to explode the liquidity spigot; and all of this supervised–if that’s what you want to call it–by a government spectacularly unresponsive to much of anything beyond expanding the otherworldly extent of its corruption, vilifying and repressing its opponents, and doing the bidding of a genocidal regime, Israel,  that seems completely indifferent to its very fate. Whew. I am sure I am neglecting organic elements of potential catastrophe, but I think this is a satisfactory start where assessing the lunacy is concerned. Read more »

Four Hands: I Wrote This With an AI. Whether You Can Tell Is the Least Interesting Question

Editor’s Note: This essay begins an ongoing series of columns experimenting with AI collaboration in writing. Jeremy Moss supplies the ideas, direction, and editorial judgment, while the prose is developed through sustained dialogue with AI systems he collectively calls “Machina”. The collaboration itself, and what it does to writing and authorship, is part of the experiment. [Going along with the spirit of this series of essays, this note itself was written by GPT-6 Astra and edited by S. Abbas Raza!]

by Jeremy Moss and Machina

Image by ChatGPT

Four Hands is a column about writing with machines, made the way it describes. The ideas, the direction and the decisions about what survives are mine; the prose is developed in dialogue with AI systems, principally Claude and ChatGPT, which I address collectively as Machina.

The editor who agreed to run this column told me, in the same message, that my prose “carries the unmistakable tone that AI-written material still carries.” He also said he “completely believe[s]” the ideas are mine, “not Claude’s,” and wanted to try the experiment anyway.

Both halves of that are worth sitting with, because they do not resolve into a verdict. Something in the sentences reads as machine-made. Something in the argument reads as a person’s. A reader is left holding two facts at once, and the phrase we currently have for this cannot hold them.

The phrase is “written with AI,” and it covers a student who pastes a prompt into a chatbot and submits what comes back, a novelist who runs a finished chapter through a model to catch repetitions, a journalist who has a machine draft the middle third and mentions it to nobody, and whatever it is that I do. Those are not variations on one activity. One is fraud, one is copy editing, one is concealment, and the fourth has no name, which means it gets read as one of the other three by whoever is doing the reading.

I have been calling it Four Hands, after the piano duet, where two players sit at one instrument and both parts are printed on the score. In fiction I have been calling the same method prompt fiction, the name for the genre this way of working produces, not a title for any single book written in it, though it’s the genre my own novel, Flowers for Machina, is written in. The names are provisional and I hold them loosely. What I hold less loosely is the need for a name at all, because a practice without one keeps being described in vocabulary built to describe something else. Read more »

Poem by Jim Culleny

—Yom Kippur, 9/21/2026

Atonement

To find the means to a mend

To try a new take to forsake a mistake

To unfold the past and straighten its bend

To un-muddy a pool and make it clear

To lift the flat rock of my self and let the sun do its work

To yank the inside out and give it some air

To make a whole man of the stuff of a jerk

To morph a long fall into a hairpin turn

To lance a boil and do what’s best for us

To kindle the badly done and watch it burn

To unbury the past and make its corpse a Lazarus

To sew a split in one cloth now two

To impossibly do what the humble do

To end a grudge and make us whole again,

…………… At onement then

by Jim Culleny
9/13/13

……

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Sunday, September 20, 2026

The Scientific Method Has Left the Building

by Muhammad Aurangzeb Ahmad

An Experiment on a Bird in the Air Pump by Joseph Wright of Derby (1768)

I recall reading a short piece of fiction as a high school student at the turn of the millenium called Catching Crumbs from the Table. It was written by Ted Chiang and later republished under the title The Evolution of Human Science. Chiang imagined a future in which genetically enhanced metahumans have superintelligence and all of science and inventing new things for the benefit of rest of humanity. However, ordinary human scientists can no longer participate meaningfully at the frontiers of research. Science continues to advance faster than ever but most of humanity can no easily understand what is going on. Howeverm Human scientists do not completely disappear. Instead, they become interpreters. Some try to understand simplified accounts of metahuman discoveries. Others test conclusions whose theoretical basis lies beyond their own abilities. Still others study the artifacts produced by metahuman science and work backward, hoping to infer the principles that made them possible. For all practical purposes science for ordinary humans has become less about discovering nature directly than about trying to understand discoveries made by minds more capable than most of humanity.

After more than two decades, I was recently reminded of this story when I came across a couple of articles in Nature. The paper described two systems that occupy a curious new territory between scientific instrument and scientific collaborator. The paper in question describes Google’s Co-Scientist which uses multiple AI agents to generate hypotheses, criticize one another’s proposals, rank them, and refine the more promising ones. Some of the hypotheses generated by the system were subsequently tested in biomedical settings. Another system, Robin searches the literature, proposes hypotheses, suggests experiments, analyzes experimental results. It then revises its ideas in light of what those experiments show. Human researchers still perform much of the physical work. It is important to note that it would be premature to describe either system as an autonomous scientist. That said, these systems are doing something qualitatively different from what we normally think scientific software is supposed to do. Read more »

Where the Lost Cause Won

by Paweł Skała-Piękoś

The Polish noble republic as a laboratory for anyone who wants to imagine America under the Confederacy; and why a liberal owes no apology to those who call privilege freedom

In 1770, Pitt the Elder warned the House of Lords that England’s freeholders risked being “reduced to a condition baser than the peasantry of Poland”. Two years later, in Somerset’s case, the Court of King’s Bench ruled that an enslaved man brought to England could not be carried out of it by force.

In America in 1770 soldiers fired into a crowd in Boston, and in Virginia two fifths of the population lived in slavery. In Poland, peasants on private estates had long lacked dependable royal protection in disputes with their own lords. Their state had two years left before the first cut: in 1772 Russia, Prussia and Austria took nearly a third of its territory; further partitions in 1793 and 1795 erased the state for a hundred and twenty-three years. Polish memory calls this the partitions, and they are to it what the Civil War is to Americans: the date from which everything is counted. That story hides an older division.

Who freed Poland’s peasants, the majority of its population? Three foreign monarchies, each in its own time; their own state tried at the very end and ran out of time. I am not defending the partitions. I am defending a question to which Polish memory has had a ready answer for two hundred years, and the readiness is the problem.

The familiar national story fits in three words: greatness, fall, return. Poland was once one of the largest states in Europe, then absent from the map for a hundred and twenty-three years, and is today a mid-sized member of the European Union whose material problems are slowly becoming ordinary European ones. The cultural problems do not appear in that story, and they have stayed; they are the same age as the greatness, and they have the same cause. Read more »

The Underground Scene

by Mike O’Brien

It takes me a long time to finish books. The last one I finished was published about a century ago, or four and a half centuries ago, depending on how you figure it. In my defence, it was very dense, and very long, and packed with voluminous footnotes in such small font that I was obliged, for the first time in my life, to wield reading glasses to decipher the tiny spacklings of ink (known colloquially as “fly shit”). But, as a rabbit-hole-diving lay reader of technical arcana, it was worth the effort.

De Re Metallica is a treatise that attempts to collect and systematically arrange all surviving information on mining and metallurgical industry available in its time, that time being the early to middle sixteenth century. Published in 1556, it was written over the course of 30 years by Georg Agricola, a scholar and physician. His works were published in Latin, as was usual at the time, so I read the 1912 English translation by Herbert Hoover (yes, that Herbert Hoover, the thirty-first president of the United States and namesake of the Hoover Dam. He wasn’t president yet, so I guess he had some free time). Hoover was at the time a very successful and esteemed mining engineer, whose lectures at Columbia and Stanford had already been published as a standard textbook.

(Before going any further, I would like to share a mining joke. A man walks into an employment office and says “I’d like to get a job in the mining industry”. The clerk says, “Alright, we currently have openings in a copper mine and in an iron mine, which would you prefer?”. “Either ore”, the man replies.)

(You’re welcome.)

Agricola’s book is a real soup-to-nuts overview of everything involved in the extraction and processing of mined materials, from choosing where to dig all the way to separating and purifying metals for sale. The accompanying woodcut illustrations are indispensable, at least to this reader, for elucidating long passages describing three-dimensional objects in classical measurement units (e.g. “to this lower beam is affixed a second beam, transverse to the first, measuring six feet and two hands length and two hands and two digits height and breadth, at such distance from the main wall that a man may pass between them without great difficulty”. I just made that up, but it gives a fair impression.) They also feature the occasional dog, which is nice. Read more »

Friday, September 18, 2026

Big Tech’s Contribution to Economic Inequality and the Authoritarian Convergence with China

by David Hoyt

In his recent book, Crack-Up Capitalism: Market Radicals and Dreams of A World Without Democracy, historian Quinn Slobodian offers what might be the closest thing we have to an epigraph for our present moment.

Silicon Valley often forgets its Hegel at its own risk. The German philosopher taught that the master is always dependent on the slave. Neither island nor cloud can exist without its underclass. Beyond the masses of app-mediated gig workers, even the vaunted artificial intelligence programs work only because of the often repetitive routines… of labor both skilled and unskilled…The cloud floats because the underclass holds it up. Time will tell if they drop their arms one day and make something new.

Slobodian is one of a few thinkers taking the risk of writing contemporary history, one of the most difficult but important of genres, especially in a disoriented and shifting age. Shipwrecked attempts litter the shoals of our rising seas, many once registered under the flags of oracular business consultants or breathless Great Man hagiographies. Does anyone now think the world was ever flat? The present, to invert a mid-century novel’s famous opening line, is a foreign country. The pernicious side-effect of someone else’s bright idea suddenly dominates everything. What was a trend for decades became a tipping point last week. What seemed important or forgivable no longer is. Causal chains are clouded by changing weather, and the diviners at Farmer’s Almanac have thrown in the towel. “Is there anything Jack Ma can’t do?” a dazzled writer asks of the founder of China’s e-commerce giant, Alibaba, in 2012. Yes, it turns out, there is: Say no to Xi Jinping.

Distortions of attention are the hazards of thinking contemporary history. Already, free-range attention spans are further shortened when captured by the digital economy, and successions of world historical events are occluded by the price of gas or ground beef or manufactured online hysterias. Lotus-eaters all, we are desperately in need of reliable sea charts, healthier sustenance, and a repaired memory of where we were once trying to go.

In the pre-pandemic decade of the 2010’s, two narratives arose in relative independence of one another and now appear, in retrospect, to be much more closely intertwined: the phenomenon and critique of global inequality (most closely associated with the French economist Thomas Piketty), and the explosive growth of a new form of capitalism known as the platform economy or surveillance capitalism (closely associated with behavioral psychologist Shoshana Zuboff). Both developments were late expressions of the period of globalization that would conclude with the partial unraveling of the economic entente cordiale between the United States and China, beginning in the First Trump Administration.

What a handful of recent studies suggest is that the explosive growth and wealth of the second development – platform capitalism – has structurally contributed to the historical spike of the latter – global income and wealth inequality — since the Great Financial Crisis of 2008. Read more »

The Contract On America

by John Ambrosio

In 2001, Grover Norquist, the Republican anti-tax crusader, famously quipped in an interview that he did not want to abolish government, “I simply want to reduce it to the size where I can drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the bathtub.” The radical shrinking of the federal government under Trump has happened at a speed and on a scale that is unprecedented.

This raises the question: Are Trump and the MAGA-dominated Republican Party willing to jeopardize the future viability of U.S. society in order to achieve their political and ideological goals? Has the Republican Party become a kind of death cult hellbent on destroying everything that enables ordinary people to survive and thrive? Does their hatred of liberalism, and desire for vengeance, override their instinct for national self-preservation?

In a recent podcast, Timothy Snyder and Ruth Ben-Giat, two prominent historians of authoritarianism and European fascism, discussed whether the U.S. is being murdered or is committing suicide. That is, whether it is being deliberately destroyed by Trump and MAGA Republicans or if a significant part of the electorate is committing national suicide, whether the descent into authoritarianism is a self-inflicted wound.

The answer is clearly both. There is a deliberate and systematic effort by Trump and his MAGA allies to demolish liberal constitutional democracy and dismantle and eliminate federal agencies and executive departments that comprise the modern U.S. state, aided and abetted by Republican voters and others who continue to support Trump and who elect MAGA Republicans that mostly rubber stamp his cruel and dangerous policies. Read more »