Yascha Mounk at his own Substack:
Yes, every fashionable conference has some panel on AI. Yes, social media is overrun with hypemen trying to alert their readers to the latest “mind-blowing” improvements of Grok or ChatGPT. But even as the maturation of AI technologies provides the inescapable background hum of our cultural moment, the mainstream outlets that pride themselves on their wisdom and erudition—even, in moments of particular self-regard, on their meaning-making mission—are lamentably failing to grapple with its epochal significance.
A recent viral essay in The New Yorker provides an extreme, but not an altogether atypical, illustration of the problem. “A.I. is frankly gross to me,” its author, Jia Tolentino, avows. “It launders bias into neutrality; it hallucinates; it can become ‘poisoned with its own projection of reality.’ The more frequently people use ChatGPT, the lonelier, and the more dependent on it, they become.” At least Tolentino has the honesty to acknowledge the astonishing fact that “I have never used ChatGPT.” Though the author considers herself a progressive, her basic attitude to new technologies resembles that of a reactionary 19th century priest who denounces the railways as the devil’s work—before proudly mentioning that he himself has, of course, never engaged in the sin of riding one.
More here.
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