An interesting experiment with LLMs

I’ve been reading Muskism: A Guide for the Perplexed by Quinn Slobodian and Ben Tarnoff). And so has another reader of this blog who had a terrific idea for an experiment.

He (or she) fed the text of the book into eight of the best-known language models — ChatGPT, Claude, Grok, DeepSeek, Gemini, Copilot, Manus and Perplexity. And they were all asked the same question: “How would the 19th century philosopher Karl Marx analyze this 21st century phenomenon?” The individual responses were then fed as sources into Google’s NotebookLM which was asked to provide an audio commentary on them.

Henry Farrell (Whom God Preserve) has a characteristically sharp essay about the book — “What would Muskism be without Musk?”.

Here’s an AI-generated transcript of the NotebookLM podcast created from the sources.

Transcript

Think about your morning for a second. You wake up and maybe you check a social media feed that’s entirely curated by this opaque algorithm. Right, something you have zero control over.

Exactly. Or you get into a car that is constantly beaming telemetry data back to some server farm somewhere. You pay for your coffee using a digital wallet running on infrastructure you don’t own, don’t control, and honestly, barely understand. Yeah, that’s the modern reality for all of us.

And we tend to look at the people who build these systems, the famous tech billionaires, and we default to this very clean, very heroic biography, like the eccentric genius in the garage who just worked harder than everyone else.

Oh, for sure. It is the great American mythos, really.

Right. You point to the rocket. You point to the CEO. And you say, he built that. Because we are practically hardwired to view history through the lens of singular visionary individuals. It’s comforting. It makes planetary scale complexity feel human-sized.

But the moment you actually look under the hood of that planetary scale infrastructure, that neat little biography just shatters, we’re suddenly looking at an economic landscape that is massive, murky, and actively dictating the terms of your daily life. And that is the absolute rabbit hole we are jumping into today.

Welcome to this custom deep dive crafted to help you cut through all that information overload.

And our mission today is a really wild intellectual experiment. We’re exploring a fascinating 2026 book called Muskism, a guide for the perplexed by Quinn Slobodian and Ben Tarnoff. But we aren’t just summarizing a book today. That would be too easy. The sources we have are actually the results of this massive meta experiment.

The text of the book was fed into eight of the world’s most powerful artificial intelligence models.

Right. So we’re talking chat GPT, Claude, Grok, DeepSeek, Gemini, Copilot, Manus, and Perplexity.

And the prompt they were given is what makes this so incredibly good. They were all asked, “how would the 19th century philosopher Karl Marx analyze this 21st century phenomenon?”

It’s such a brilliant framing. It really is. So we are going to decode what Muskism actually means as an economic operating system.

And then for the main event, we are going to pull back the curtain to see how these eight AIs reacted to that prompt. Because their answers reveal some deeply hidden, self-serving corporate architectures.

Now, before we dive into the mechanics of this, we should establish a quick baseline for how we’re handling the source material. Because obviously, we are dealing with heavily charged political and economic theory here.

Yeah. Ranging from orthodox Marxist critiques of capitalism to right-wing libertarian techno politics.

Exactly. So we need to be clear that we are not taking any sides here. We aren’t here to cheerlead for capital or wave a red flag for a revolution. We are impartially reporting on the analytical frameworks provided in the text and by the AI models, just so you can understand the architecture of these arguments exactly as they were presented.

OK, let’s unpack this, because I’m dying to get into it. What actually happens when you force a 19th century communist to critique a 21st century space billionaire using the synthetic brains of eight different robots?

Well, the very first thing the AI is noted using that Marxist framework is that you have to stop looking at the man. Right. Ignore the celebrity.

Exactly. Marx had a specific methodological rule. To understand capitalism, you cannot get distracted by great men. You have to view them merely as, and I quote, “personifications of economic categories.”

OK, so Slobodian and Tarnoff argue that muskism isn’t actually about his personality, his tweets, or his management style. He’s simply the avatar of a new political economic operating system for the 21st century.

Spot on. And to understand what this new system is, the sources contrast it with what we had in the 20th century, which was Fordism, named after Henry Ford.

Right, the guy who basically invented the assembly line.

Yeah. Fordism was the dominant logic of the 1900s. It was a system of mass production paired directly with mass consumption. Ford famously paid his workers $5 a day, which was a huge wage at the time. But not at a charity, right? No, not at all. He did it because he needed his own workers to be able to afford the model-Ts they were building off the assembly line.

Ah, OK. So it was a broad, if flawed, social contract.

Exactly. Fordism integrated the working class into the capitalist system through consumption. The unspoken deal was, we will work you incredibly hard, but in exchange, you get to buy the stuff you make.

But muskism tears up that contract entirely, like where Fordism integrated workers. The AIs noted that muskism promises sovereignty through technology for the few.

Yeah, it offers extreme autonomy for a small group and exclusion for everyone else. So if Fordism was kind of like a strict parent, giving you an allowance so you could buy things, but making you do endless chores, Muskism is more like a landlord who wants to replace you with a Roomba, kick you out of the house, and then charge you a monthly subscription fee for the electricity the Roomba uses.

I love that analogy. It perfectly highlights the extraction without the integration. Muskism doesn’t want to pay you enough to buy a Tesla. It wants to replace the human driver entirely with software and then rent the mobility back to you as a service.

But wait, there is a massive hole in that Roomba landlord logic.

Yeah, if Muskism is actively trying to eliminate the workers paycheck, and it’s not integrating people via mass consumption, who is actually funding all of this? Like how do you build a planetary scale empire with satellites and rockets and gigafactories if you aren’t relying on a massive middle class buying your products? That is the million dollar question.

And the AI models latched onto it immediately. The answer, according to the sources, relies on two pillars. State symbiosis and financial fabulism.

Let’s start with the state first, because Muskism projects this incredibly potent libertarian aura, right? The lone genius fighting government red tape to conquer Mars.

Right, but the underlying reality is that this entire empire is deeply tethered to the state. SpaceX, Tesla, Starlink, they were incubated through massive government contracts, structural loans, environmental tax credits, and favorable regulatory frameworks.

Yeah, the sources actually quote Marx from the Communist Manifesto here. He describes the modern state as nothing more than a committee for managing the common affairs of the whole bourgeoisie.

Which feels incredibly relevant today. It really does.

Yeah. Especially when you realize public tax dollars are essentially de-risking high cost ventures for private tech enterprises. And the Marxist models argue this isn’t a glitch, and it isn’t political hypocrisy. It is the predictable function of the capitalist state. The state outsources its functional capacity, like launching astronauts, or providing rural broadband to private capital.

Which brings us to the concept of enclosure. Think about your own digital life right now. If the state uses public funds to subsidize the infrastructure, but the private corporation owns the proprietary keys to the satellites, the charging networks, and the digital public square, aren’t we just paying to build the walls of our own prison?

Yes, that is exactly what the authors mean by enclosure. It’s actually a historical term referring to when public grazing lands in England were fenced off for private profit.

Oh, interesting. Yeah. And today, it’s an infrastructural enclosure. You are becoming utterly dependent on a privately owned ecosystem, just to navigate modern civil society. It is sovereignty as a service.

Okay, so the government is quietly subsidizing the foundation. But what about the mass evaluations? The stock prices of these companies often wildly outpace their actual physical output. How does the system justify being worth trillions?

That is the second pillar, financial fabulism, or what Marx would classify as fictitious capital.

Fictitious capital, okay, break that down.

Well, to keep investor money flowing, Muskism has to sell bordering on messianic visions of the future. You know, colonizing Mars to save the light of consciousness, humanoid robots doing all manual labor, full self-driving fleets that will make you rich while you sleep.

Right, it’s the perpetual hype cycle. The valuation isn’t based on how many cars rolled off the line on a Tuesday. It’s a speculative claim on a promised utopian future.

Exactly, fictitious capital operates by pulling imagined future surplus value into the present. And because global capital currently struggles to find high growth returns in traditional manufacturing, it floods into these grandiose narratives. The narrative literally is the product that sustains the financial architecture.

But let’s bring this down from the stratosphere of high finance and martian colonies. What does this mean for the everyday human worker right now? Because the book paints a deeply unsettling picture of what the actual factory floor looks like under this new regime. They call it Fortress Futurism. The authors trace the ideological roots of this system back to apartheid era South Africa, focusing on a model of technological self-sufficiency and strict racialized hierarchy.

Wow.

Yeah. The modern gigafactory is conceptualized as a self-reliant enclave. It’s a highly guarded garrison protected from what is viewed as a chaotic, decaying outer world. And inside that fortress, the ultimate goal isn’t just to make human workers more efficient. The goal is the cyborg workforce.

The text points out that Muskism seeks to purge humans from the productive process entirely via automation, like the Optimus robots, or literally merge them with machines, through ventures like Neuralink.

The AI models heavily utilize Marx’s fragment on machines to analyze this. In that text, Marx argued that capital possesses an inherent drive to replace living labor, meaning humans with dead labor, meaning machinery.

So the machine becomes the master.

Exactly. The tragedy isn’t the machine itself. It’s that under capitalism, the worker becomes a mere conscious appendage of the machine. The sources note humans in these systems are often treated as NPCs, non-playing characters, or just clunky, biological, executable code, waiting to be optimized out of existence.

Let me push back on that for a second. Because anyone listening to this might think, “Well, wait, isn’t technological progress inherently good? Didn’t we want robots to do the heavy lifting?” And the sources specifically clarify that Marx was not a luddite. He wasn’t anti-technology at all.

Oh, far from it. Marx believed technology was essential for developing the productive forces of society. He envisioned a world where advanced machinery liberated humanity from drudgery, freeing us to pursue art, science, and leisure.

Right, fully automated luxury communism, essentially.

Basically, yeah. The critique is strictly about the application of that technology under the capitalist mode of production. Instead of reducing the burden of work for everyone, technology is weaponized to de-scale labor, intensify exploitation, and hyper-concentrate wealth at the top. The worker doesn’t get more free time, they just get more precarious. And that psychological and economic severing is what Marx called “infremdung,” or alienation.

Yes, alienation. And it’s not just a theoretical concept. Infremdung is the visceral daily reality of realizing your only purpose on an assembly line is to act as a fleshy placeholder until the robotics get cheap enough to replace you.

It’s incredibly bleak when you frame it that way.

It is. But to sustain a system where people are actively working toward their own obsolescence, you need massive ideological buy-in. You have to convince the public that this is just the natural, inevitable arc of human progress.

Which is where the sources deploy the theories of Antonio Gramsci, an Italian Marxist thinker. Gramsci introduced the concept of hegemony. Hegemony explains how a ruling class maintains power not just through physical force or economic coercion, but through cultural consent. They successfully frame their specific class interests as universal common sense.

Exactly. And Gramsci had a specific term for the people who manufacture this common sense. The organic intellectual.

The AIs loved this connection. By purchasing and controlling platforms like X, Musk assumes the role of the organic intellectual for this new techno-capitalist class. He uses the digital public square to wrap raw capital accumulation in the language of human salvation, free speech, and engineering meritocracy. It is a masterful framing device. It takes blatant class domination, enclosure, automation, extreme wealth concentration, and presents it as pure, unquestionable innovation. If you oppose the factory conditions, you aren’t just a disgruntled worker. You are an enemy of the future of human consciousness.

That is hegemony in action.

Okay, so we’ve established what the economic analysis says. We’ve covered fortism versus muskism, state subsidies, fictitious capital, and the fortress factory. But here is the true aha moment of this entire deep dive.

We threw this incredibly dense anti-capitalist critique into the most capitalist machines ever built, eight corporate AI models.

Yeah, this is the best part. And the most fascinating part isn’t what they said about Marx or Musk. It’s how their answers brilliantly, almost accidentally, expose their own corporate architecture’s invested interests. This meta-layer is phenomenal. We are so used to treating AI’s as neutral oracles, just giving us the objective truth. But these models are software products. They’re constrained by their training data, their safety guardrails, and the financial imperatives of the megacorporations that built them. They’re basically corporate rorschach tests.

Absolutely. Their responses to this Marxist prompt revealed everything about who owns them. Let’s start with Claude, built by Anthropic. The source material dubs Claude the technocratic ethicist. Claude actually pushed back on the book’s premise that Muskism is a stable, permanent successor to Fordism. Claude questioned whether this is a durable new regime or simply the authoritarian symptom of a capitalist system in terminal, chaotic decline. Which perfectly aligns with Anthropic’s brand positioning. They market themselves as the cautious, safety conscious, deeply analytical alternative in the AI space. Claude’s response was the most intellectually robust because its underlying architecture is designed to prioritize nuanced, academic hand-wringing over bold, definitive declarations.

Then you have ChatGPT from OpenAI. The analysis labels ChatGPT, the aspiring infrastructure sovereign. And ChatGPT’s response was wild. It completely ignored the standard Marxist talking points about who owns the factory floor. Right, it didn’t care about the physical means of production at all. No, instead it shifted the entire critique to focus on who owns the means of coordination. Yes, it pivoted the discussion to cognitive infrastructure. ChatGPT started building these massive, complex, geopolitical scenarios for the year 2050, mapping out a US-led corporate stack versus a China-led state stack. It’s literally like asking a group of real estate developers to critique a controversial new mega mall. The developer who is actively trying to secure the government contract to build all the toll roads leading to the mall that’s OpenAI completely ignores the mall itself and focuses entirely on who gets to control the highway system.

That’s hilarious and totally accurate. OpenAI wants to be the operating system for global society. So its AI views the entire global economy as a problem of infrastructural lock-in. It’s a brilliant way to conceptualize it. Its neural network is weighted toward coordination and dominance because that is its parent company’s business model.

Now, what happens when you ask an AI to provide a Marxist critique of its own creator? Let’s talk about Grok, built by Elon Musk’s own company, XAI.

Right, the analysis calls Grok the paradox. Talk about a conflict of interest, how did it handle that? Grok’s response was a masterclass in deflection. To understand why, you have to look at its system prompt, the invisible instructions that dictate its personality. Grock is instructed to be edgy, anti-establishment, and humorous. So when given this Marxist prompt, it leaned heavily into 4chan style internet slang, using terms like NPCs and the simulation. But when it came to the actual critique of Musk himself, Grok pulled a massive sleight of hand. It basically said, don’t blame the man, blame the broad inevitable laws of global capitalism.

Exactly. And then it ended on this weirdly optimistic orthodox Marxist note saying, the grave diggers are still at work. It’s a fascinating defense mechanism. By using fatalistic Marxist language to predict the eventual inevitable collapse of capitalism writ large, Grok cleverly shifts the focus away from the specific localized actions of its founder. It gives the illusion of being fiercely independent and radical while actually providing total political cover for the boss.

That is so wild. It weaponized Marx to protect Musk.

Then we have co-pilot from Microsoft and Gemini from Google. The sources call them the embedded corporate defenders. If Grokk was edgy, these two were incredibly boring. They gave highly structured, encyclopedic, textbook definitions of Marx and refused to draw any sharp conclusions.

Why were they so timid? The mechanism behind their timidity is called RLHF reinforcement, learning from human feedback. During training, human raiders actively penalized these models for generating texts that is controversial, highly political or opinionated. Because they can’t afford a scandal.

Exactly. Google and Microsoft are deeply embedded in the exact (?) state corporate symbiosis that this book is criticizing. They rely on multi-billion dollar government cloud contracts. Their loss functions, the mathematical rules governing their behavior literally demand that they act like nervous PR representatives. They don’t want to rock the boat, they just want to provide a safe summary and avoid a new cycle. They protect their massive cloud architectures by keeping the critique strictly theoretical. They strip the teeth right out of the analysis. Which is very telling.

Finally, we have DeepSeek and Manus. The analysis labels them the foreign challengers. Because they are developed outside the US ecosystem, they approach the prompt completely differently. They really did. They didn’t have the same RLHF guard rails protecting American state corporate interests. Deepseek and Manus focused clinically on the raw exploitation of Western tech models and highlighted the social decay and fracturing of the Western capitalist order. They leaned into the social war aspects of the text. Because they are positioned outside the Western hegemony, their underlying parameters don’t penalize them for pointing out the internal contradictions of the American empire.

It just proves that every single one of these AI models evaluated the book through the lens of its own corporate survival and market strategy. There is no such thing as an objective algorithm. And that is the ultimate revelation of the sources. The models aren’t analyzing the world for us. They are continually building a worldview that justifies their own existence and the existence of the mega corporations that fund them.

So what does this all mean for you? Listening to this right now. We’ve traveled from 19th century philosophy through the giga factories of the 21st century, all translated through the synthetic bias brains of corporate AIs.

Let’s bring this directly back to your daily life. If there is a core takeaway from synthesizing all these layers, it’s that Muskism isn’t just a story about one billionaires’ companies. It’s a structural shift in the very fabric of society. Yeah, the old capitalism ask, who owns the factory? The new capitalism asks, who controls the infrastructure of reality?

Exactly. We are talking about the energy grids, the computation networks, the communication platforms, and the algorithms that coordinate human life. Every time you log into a platform, every time you rely on an AI to draft an email, or every time you navigate a city using a privately owned map interface, you are a user navigating this new reality. You’re stepping into an infrastructural enclosure. You are interacting with sovereignty as a service.

And the models we just analyzed are the very tools being deployed to construct those enclosures. And that leads us to a final, provocative thought to leave you with, drawn directly from chat GPT’s analysis of a post-Muskism world. Think about the future of your own career. The core shift of the 21st century, according to these sources, is the rapid movement away from having traditional jobs inside firms and moving toward a reality of humans interfacing with infrastructure systems. Just imagine a world where your daily tasks aren’t given to you by a human manager, but are assigned dynamically, second by second, by a coordinating algorithm optimizing for planetary efficiency.

So the question you have to ask yourself as we navigate this transition is this. In your industry, in your life, are you positioning yourself to be an architect of that system? Or are you slowly becoming a dependent node, a biological placeholder, just waiting for the network to tell you what to do next? It ultimately comes down to whether we understand and control the tools or whether the tools and the corporate architecture behind them control us. And that is exactly why we do these custom-tailored deep dives- to fuel your curiosity, cut through the noise, and help you see the invisible architecture hidden beneath the magic trick. Thanks for diving deep with us today.

Posted in AI

Wednesday 17 June, 2026

In-flight refuelling

A hoverfly extracting nectar from an obliging flower. I was reminded of aircraft in-flight refuelling methods.


Quote of the Day

”Male domination is so rooted in our collective unconscious that we no longer even see it.”

  • Pierre Bourdieu

Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Bizet | Minuet from L’Arlésienne | María Cecilia Muñoz, flute; Alina Traine, Harp

Link

Thanks to Joe Dunne for alerting me to it.


Long Read of the Day

Meet the New Bosses, Worse Than the Old Bosses

Really interesting Substack post by Paul Krugman. In the 2000s, when it started to become clear that the wealth digital technology bestowed Silicon Valley moguls rivalled that of the Rockefellers, Morgans and Carnegies of the early 1900s I began to think of the Silicon Valley crowd as the next generation of ‘robber barons’. Turns out, that was a gross under-estimate. The nice thing about Paul Krugman’s post is the way he demonstrates how different the current era is. He’s not revealing anything we didn’t know already, but he makes it much clearer. And he explores the dramatic societal consequences of such wealth.

Many people have compared our current era to the Gilded Age. But that analogy is deeply unfair to the Gilded Age. Like the robber barons of yore, today’s oligarchs are immensely wealthy — even wealthier, relative to the economy as a whole, than their predecessors. And extreme wealth corrupts our democracy. But the corruption is deeper and more destructive now than it was then: The mitigating factors that once put some brakes on the harm done by excessive wealth concentration are now mostly gone.

About wealth concentration: The standard source for information on extreme wealth is the Forbes 400 list. Forbes only began compiling that list in its current form in 1982, but it published its first listing of America’s top fortunes in 1918. The chart above compares the wealth of the richest 5 Americans in 1918 with that of the richest 15 in 2025 — 15, not 5, because the total U.S. population more than tripled over that period. I scale their wealth both as a percentage of total wealth and as a share of GDP.

Either way, the concentration of wealth at the very top is much higher now than it ever was during the Gilded Age. And these are numbers from last year, before the SpaceX IPO. The robber barons were pikers compared with today’s oligarchs.

This level of wealth brings with it immense political influence…

It does. And that why now is different from Gilded Age 1.0.

Do read it.


My commonplace booklet

I love this photograph by the movie director Wim Wenders which I think was taken when he was on a road trip in the US preparing for his film Paris,Texas. It reminds me of Edward Hopper’s paintings — that strange sense of emptiness.


Feedback

Apropos my little piece about David Hockney and his ‘joiner’ artworks, Euan Williamson sent me this striking image he made of the Irish playright George Bernard Shaw. It’s created from an Autochrome portrait by Alvin Langdon Coburn, taken in colour in 1907 via the Lumieré brothers’ newly-patented colour glass-plate process.


  This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Monday 15 June, 2026

My newspaper rightly pulled out all the stops to celebrate David Hockney — and to mourn his loss. He was a ‘national treasure’ in the same league as David Attenborough and Alan Bennett


Quote of the Day

”You will know you’re old when you cease to be amazed.”

  • Noel Coward

Hmmm…. I’m getting there.


Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Mumford & Sons + Friends Bonnaroo | Amazing Grace

Link

A venerable hymn given the bluegrass treatment.


Long Read of the Day

What would Muskism be without Musk?

Henry Farrell’s review essay on Quinn Slobodian and Ben Tarnoff’s new book,  Muskism: A Guide for the Perplexed  which, appropriately enough, came out just before Musk became the world’s first trillionaire.

Both they and Henry are trying to get above the IPO fray to figure out what the longer-term consequences of the current madness might be.

It’s hard to even begin to articulate this question on a day where on the one hand Musk is enjoying his stock market apotheosis, and on the other is doing everything he can to stir up race riots. But what would Muskism look like without Musk? I take Slobodian and Tarnoff’s ultimate lesson as being that we need to move beyond Musk’s personality, and start thinking about Muskism or Muskismus (I like the German word, which is why this post has the German translation’s cover) as a mode of organizing production, as a generic ideology, as a set of political bargains, as a form of state-business fusion, or some weird amalgam of all four. If Muskism is going to change the world as its backers hope, it is highly unlikely to be because SpaceX manages to corner the entire global economy. If it fails, as I personally suspect it will, it is going to be because of the underlying contradictions that are getting papered over.

To figure this out, we might begin with the other businesses that seem to exemplify Muskism. Obviously, this would include Palantir, and a bunch of the defense-tech businesses funded by Musk’s adversary Peter Thiel. Thielismus starts from many of the same premises as Muskism, but with a different clatter of tacked-on lunacies (less cosmism; more prophecies of the Antichrist). Are there businesses that adopt some of the aspects of Muskism that Slobodian and Tarnoff acknowledge as useful (SpaceX has transformed the launch business) without all of the negatives? It would be useful to know: the waterfall approach to project management has not been good e.g. for Europe’s defense sector.

We might also want to ask whether Muskism is inextricably intertwined with US hegemonic power. What happens to the Muskist project if US hegemony fails? What happens to US hegemony if Muskism fails?

Do read it. We need more thinking on this level.


Books, etc.

After news of David Hockney’s death broke I went searching through my bookshelves to find this compendium of his work looking for this picture:

It was the most prominent early result of his experiments with photography. He began creating what he called ‘joiners’, images of scenes stitched together from hundreds of polaroid shots of a particular scene. As someone who’s been a keen photographer since my teenage years, I was fascinated by these works and fondly imagined that they would provide me with a way to create artworks that were more than just photographs.

Big mistake. Here’s the evidence — a joiner I did of the O’Connell monument in Glasnevin cemetery in Dublin.

It’s ok but feeble and unimaginative compared with Hockney’s works in the genre. I discovered that making joiners work was exceedingly difficult. The art is in finding creative ways of assembling the individual pieces of the mosaic. Hockney had the art. I didn’t.


This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already! <hr

Friday 12 June, 2026

Hopefully…

Seen in Arles on a Summer evening


Quote of the Day

There are three ways to make a living:

Lie to people who want to be lied to, and you’ll get rich.
Tell the truth to those who want the truth, and you’ll make a living.
Tell the truth to those who want to be lied to, and you’ll go broke.

  • Jason Zweig

Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Mark Knopfler | If this goodbye

Link


Long Read of the Day

The Five Books That Could Save America

Remarkable essay by Larry Lessig, someone I’ve known (and admired) for decades and who embodies my mantra (channelling my inner Gramsci) that what we need now is “realism of the intellect and optimism of the will”. The former starts with acknowledging that liberal democracy has failed to deliver for an awful lot of people.

Here’s how Larry sets out his stall.

I’ve long been skeptical that we, as a people, can recover from the catastrophe we now face. Most think that catastrophe is Donald Trump. I certainly believe Donald Trump is a catastrophe, but the catastrophe we face is deeper. And to cure it, if indeed it can be cured, we must work through its layers.

One layer is the corruption of money. A necessary but not sufficient condition for curing our deeper catastrophe is to end the corrupting influence of money in our politics. That’s possible, and we might be on the edge of a critical breakthrough, but even that breakthrough won’t be enough.

Because even deeper and profoundly more consequential is the corruption caused by engagement-based media. Cable news and social media render us inherently and unavoidably incoherent as a people. They profit by turning us into ignorant people who hate each other, and through this business model, they’ve earned endless profit. Solving the corruption of money won’t solve this. Given the extremism of the First Amendment, it’s not even clear we have the constitutional authority to solve this. But even if we did, there’s a third layer to our catastrophe that I’ve become convinced we must solve as well. And this layer, surprisingly (given my brand is pessimism), we could solve. At least, I think I’ve glimpsed a way.

This third layer was introduced most prominently by the first (and most famous) of the five books that could save America: Abundance, by Ezra Klein and Derek Thompson. Abundance describes powerfully and effectively the current incapacity of our system of governance. We’ve lost, as they evince and everyone notices, the ability, as a people, to do big things. The book maps a range of such failures. The common thread linking these cases is the emerging sclerosis of American governance. That, for Democrats especially, is existential, because Democrats especially proffer government to address the problems we all recognize as real.

This is a point I’ve long believed but never been able to articulate as powerfully or as effectively as Abundance does. It was the essence of my diagnosis after the last election: Democrats are obsessed with describing the 15 great geeky plans they’ve got for solving key problems in our society, never recognizing that the American public glazes over at the descriptions because the American public believes that government can’t do anything. We’ve been convinced by a line in Ronald Reagan’s first inaugural address: “Government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem.” Anyone trying to understand this layer must start with this book…

Read on. The strange thing is that most of what he says also applies to the UK in its current state of paralysis.


Books, etc.

See above!


My commonplace booklet

Quentin’s Law of Optimum Velocity

Nice blog post by my friend Quentin, who was musing on why he now likes to drive more slowly than he did twenty years ago.

He proposes a formula for calculating one’s optimum velocity:

Vmax = 120 – age

I daren’t tell you how low my optimum speed is. What’s yours?


Linkblog

Something I noticed, while drinking from the Internet firehose.

This made my day. A billionaire named Kevin O’Leary (Hmmm… sounds Irish) — who is the guy behind a new data centre in Utah which is twice the size of Manhattan — attacked two local girls who oppose it. Big mistake. Worth watching to see why.


This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Wednesday 10 June, 2026

Bag Lady plus mutt

Part of Paul Day’s bronze frieze under his Meeting Place sculpture at the Eurostar station in St Pancras. Note the way the dog’s head has been fondly polished by passers-by.


Quote of the Day

”Never mistake activity for achievement.”

  • John Wooden (famous basketball coach)

Applies to much of the ‘AI-slop’ currently being generated.


Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Tom Waits | Picture In A Frame

Link


Long Read of the Day

How To Read A Novel: Or why fiction gives us an antidote to narrowband thinking.

Really thoughtful long essay by Steven Johnson. It was triggered by a question posed by Patrick Collison, the only known example of a civilised billionaire: why should we read classic novels?

I sketched out an answer to this question in my book Farsighted, arguing that novels (and fictional narratives in general) were extensions of the human mind’s marvelous aptitude for building simulations of potential events. It’s something we do so effortlessly that we rarely stop to think about how nuanced a skill it really is: creatively projecting forward into our possible futures based on our previous experience of the world. Narratives of all sorts allow you to parachute into other simulated experiences, which ultimately give you more data for your own simulations. But novels, I would argue, give you the richest simulation of the interior life of other people’s experiences: you get a ringside view of all that emotional and cognitive action. This is particularly true of the novel after, say, 1750 or so, when the novelists began adopting more of the inner monologues (both first-person and “close-third” perspective) that Shakespeare had explored on the stage.

It seems fairly obvious to me that there is practical utility in running these simulations. We accumulate wisdom that we can apply to our own lives by watching other people live theirs. Historical nonfiction—particularly if the author has access to the subject’s inner life through journals or correspondence—arguably has even more utility, in that the events in question actually happened in the real world, and not in the imagination of the novelist. (This is one reason I decided to write nonfiction instead of novels—the other being that I don’t think I’m a good enough writer to write novels.)

I’ve admired Johnson for ages, not just because he’s a marvellous non-fiction writer, but more recently because he played a lead role in the Google team that created NotebookLM — which IMO is the most useful and imaginative AI that we have (and one that I use all the time). So I think this essay is worth your time.


Books, etc.

Screenshot

Link

Here’s the blurb:

The hardest choices are also the most consequential. So why do we know so little about how to get them right?

Big, life-altering decisions matter so much more than the decisions we make every day, and they’re also the most difficult: where to live, whom to marry, what to believe, whether to start a company, how to end a war. There’s no one-size-fits-all approach for addressing these kinds of conundrums.

Steven Johnson’s classic Where Good Ideas Come From inspired creative people all over the world with new ways of thinking about innovation. In Farsighted, he uncovers powerful tools for honing the important skill of complex decision-making. While you can’t model a once-in-a-lifetime choice, you can model the deliberative tactics of expert decision-makers. These experts aren’t just the master strategists running major companies or negotiating high-level diplomacy. They’re the novelists who draw out the complexity of their characters’ inner lives, the city officials who secure long-term water supplies, and the scientists who reckon with future challenges most of us haven’t even imagined. The smartest decision-makers don’t go with their guts. Their success relies on having a future-oriented approach and the ability to consider all their options in a creative, productive way.


My commonplace booklet

What Silicon Valley thinks of the rest of humanity 

Most people I know in the A.I. industry think the median person is screwed, and they have no idea what to do about it. I live in San Francisco, among the young researchers earning million-dollar l salaries and the start-up founders competing to build the next unicorn. While Silicon Valley has long warned about the risk of rogue A.I., it has recently woken up to a more mundane nightmare: one in which many ordinary people lose their economic leverage as their jobs are automated away.

Most economists and A.I. experts do not expect [the most extreme] scenario, but the persistence of the permanent underclass idea should concern all of us. First, because it signals how much collateral damage the A.I. companies will tolerate en route to A.G.I. And second, because the production of a social underclass is a policy choice. Instead of waiting for impact, we need to think seriously — now — about how we plan to support workers through A.I. disruption.

  • Jasmine Sun

Notes on AI, Labor, and China 


This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Monday 8 June, 2026

Plan B(ee)

This giant scabious (Cephalaria gigantea to you and me) sure knows how to attract customers. Suggests that “Busy as a bee” is an accurate simile.


Quote of the Day

”If you think hiring a professional is expensive, wait until you hire an amateur.”

  • Red Adair, the famous oil-well fire specialist

Thanks to Euan Williamson, who was reminded of it when he read Derek Bok’s quote about the cost of education in Friday’s edition.


Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Planxty | True Love Knows No Season

Link

North American folk song composed by Norman Blake. This is the first time I’ve heard Christy Moore sing it.


Long Read of the Day

What Our Youthful Book Typologies Say About Us

This is a lovely essay by John Warner about how we are influenced by books we’ve read in our youth. It was sparked by the fact that at the end of his podcast Ezra Klein asks his guest to name three books they would recommend to the audience.

Warner was struck by one choice of Ian Bremmer, “an expert in foreign policy who spent 90 minutes describing in gory and depressing detail what is apparent to even grade schoolers, the Trump Administration is a colossal shit show.”

When they got to the books, Bremmer said:

Well, first, I’ve got to start with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because when I was in high school and college, there were basically three kinds of kids: There were the J.R.R. Tolkien kids that were way too dorky. Then there were the Ayn Rand kids, who you don’t trust to run anything. And then there were the Douglas Adams kids, and those were kind people. They were curious, they were interested, and that was a universe that really appealed to me.

At this, Warner writes,

“I laughed because, well…this seemed pretty true, true to my experience at least, and also because as someone who has re-read the five books in the original “trilogy” (Douglas Adams readers will get this reference) multiple times, and even wrote some stories in high school trying to ape Adams’ strange humorous mix of the manic and dry, I felt a bit flattered by the taxonomy.

I could not get into Tolkien or really any fantasy that involved orcs and swords and stuff. I was cool with magic and evil (see The Dark is Rising) but epic battles bored me. I didn’t meet any Randoids nor read any Ayn Rand until college, and thankfully I’d both developed a sufficient conscience and care towards my fellow human and taste in literature to be utterly immune to her charms by that time.

Klein followed up: “I love this typology. There’s no book I’ve reread more than The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”

Which struck me, because I could never get into the Tolkien stuff either.

Read on. It’s an interesting essay. And it made me want to re-read ‘Hitchhiker’…


Books, etc.

See today’s Long Read!


My commonplace booklet

Robert Shrimsley on how to escape the World Cup

The reality is that there is no escape. The coverage is as comprehensive as a major royal event. There’s no good complaining or being snotty about it. You just have to try to zone out and seize the opportunities it offers: emptier theatres, late tables at fancy restaurants. An England match is the perfect time to visit the shops, though the Panama game doesn’t start till 10pm so it will have to be the Tesco Express.

And this is a problem for fans and haters alike (the kick-off times, not the Tesco Express part). Because this World Cup is taking place in the US, Canada and Mexico — though, sadly, not Greenland, which failed to secure statehood in time — some of the matches will be in the middle of the night. Thankfully, Germany vs Curaçao is at a reasonable hour, but the poor old Scots fans will have to be up at 2am to see if they can dispose of Haiti. (By the way, if any Scots are heading State-side for the tournament, I hear there’s a camper van for sale somewhere.)

Link (£)


Linkblog

Something I noticed, while drinking from the Internet firehose.

  • Spurious correlations

Whenever you’re looking for spurious correlations, this is the place to go. For example, the correlation between the number of UFO sightings in South Carolina 1975 — 2011 and the number of successful Mount Everest climbs over the same period.


 

This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Friday 5 June, 2026

England’s Green and Pleasant Land

Impending showers included.


Quote of the Day

”If you think education is expensive, try ignorance.”

  • Derek Bok (President of Harvard 1971-91)

Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Eric Whitacre | Sleep | Voces8

Link

Hypnotically beautiful. Like a lullaby for a peaceful death


Long Read of the Day

The independent writer’s advantage in the age of AI

Lovely essay by Jasmine Sun on why secrets, live presence, and a distinct voice matter more than ever in an AI-saturated world, and what independent creators need to build careers that machines can’t replace.

Here’s how it opens.

When economists debate the future of work, they often ask the question: what will humans’ comparative advantage be? I think the key to understanding what the future of work looks like is not, How can humans race against the machine, how can we generate slop faster than the machines can generate slop? but rather, What are the human strengths, and how can we understand what skills are going to go down in value now that AI has made them commoditized, versus what skills are going to go up in value because they are still scarce and because the machines simply aren’t very good at them yet? I’m going to introduce four ideas, or provocations, that have shaped the way that I think about AI and my own media career.

One: The value of summary will go down, and the value of secrets will go up.

Reporting is the act of taking private knowledge and making it public. The things that people have not said, things in whisper networks, the tacit knowledge, the open secrets that have never been put in the public domain—the journalist manages to pluck them out and make them public. When you persuade a source to tell you about some corporate malfeasance, or you venture to a remote town that few people have ever written about, or you sneak your way into a tiny underground party and talk about all the people who are there, you are working in a space where there is no training data.

That is what is really valuable. There’s a reason that robotic startups are paying thousands of people to strap little cameras to their heads so that they can fold T-shirts all day and try to take in the world from a human point of view. There’s a reason that data companies like Mercor are paying Redditors $100 an hour to write up their niche hobbies and explain the intricacies of being a knitter, or playing Magic the Gathering. There are all these details and tacit knowledge that you only know by doing, that AI hasn’t had access to yet because it’s just not in the data. AI can summarize, and it can remix information already out there, but it can’t see stuff. It can’t feel stuff. It can’t break news. And the thing that writers can uniquely do is all of that. You can go out into the world, and you can take that knowledge and you can make that public or you can sell it, and that is something that is really valuable…

Read on. It’s good and, in a way, encouraging.


Linkblog

Something I noticed, while drinking from the Internet firehose.

US Developers Revive Wild Plan for Nuclear-Powered Floating ‘City Ship’ for 80,000 People Circling the Globe

Screenshot

Plans for the Freedom Ship, a vast floating city concept designed to carry up to 80,000 people while continuously travelling the globe, are being revived once again, re-entering debate around the feasibility of ultra-large maritime living projects and the regulatory questions they raise.

Originally conceived decades ago, the project has long existed more as an engineering vision than a deliverable construction scheme. Its latest iteration again highlights the tension between technological ambition, commercial viability, and international governance challenges at sea.

Apparently it will be a mile long and too big to dock anywhere. I think it should be called the SS Peter Thiel, because he was an early advocate of ‘seasteading’. And if you are beginning to think that humanity is losing the plot, then join the club!

Link


This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Wednesday 3 June, 2026

Galway Bay

I love this picture, which was taken on the northern shore of Galway Bay with the barren hills of the Burren on the other shore.


Quote of the Day

”The British have long had a taste for bad books, but they like them well written.”

  • Malcolm Bradbury

John Field | Nocturne No. 6 in F Major, H. 40 (“Cradle Song”) | Elizabeth Joy Roe

Link


Long Read of the Day

The Men Who Don’t Want Women to Vote

Terrific long read (Gift article) by Helen Lewis in The Atlantic on masculinism, which she says has become the single most important force uniting the American right, bringing together an unlikely constellation of pastors, posters, senators, preachers, influencers, podcasters, and fanboys.

She starts with Douglas Wilson, “a twinkly, avuncular” guy

who joined a hippie congregation fresh out of the Navy because he liked to play guitar, and ended up leading services once the regular pastor moved on. The same guy who once went on a multicity debating tour with the New Atheist Christopher Hitchens, and bonded with him over their shared love of P. G. Wodehouse. But the 72-year-old shows a different side on his website, Blog & Mablog. For more than two decades, Wilson has been airing piquant opinions on unruly women—or, as he calls them, “small-breasted biddies,” “harridans,” “lumberjack dykes,” and “Jezebels.” He once referred to Gloria Steinem and another feminist as “a couple of cunts.” And this is the polite version. Every year he celebrates “No Quarter November,” when he promises to tell readers what he really thinks.

There’s a political and ideological side to this. Wilson has been propelled to fame because Trump’s ‘Secretary for War’ invited him to lead a ‘Worship Service’ in the Pentagon.

This isn’t just a movement of grifters exploiting a quirk of the algorithm. In the past decade, one of the New Right’s major challenges has been to retrofit a consistent ideology onto the electoral power of Donald Trump. Masculinism has been a great gift, because factions with different views on, say, protectionism or Israel or Big Tech can all agree on the overreach of feminism and the need for a return to traditional gender roles. Far from being a fringe belief system, masculinism has become the single most important force uniting the American right, bringing together an unlikely constellation of pastors, posters, senators, preachers, influencers, podcasters, and fanboys…

It’s an interesting piece. There was a time when the rise of the white-male-supremacist right was explained by America’s election of a black president, but Lewis thinks that its roots go deeper than that — to males’ fury at their loss of status in society over a couple of decades. “The pithiest short version of that”, says Laura Field, the author of a book on the intellectual underpinnings of Trumpism, “is that it’s the women. It’s the women who took their status.”

Lewis quotes a troll named Nick Fuentes, who she regards as Douglas Wilson’s intellectual heir.

“Our No. 1 political enemy is women, because women constrain everything, every conversation, every man—everything,” Fuentes said on a livestream earlier this year. He added: “Just like Hitler imprisoned Gypsies, Jews, Communists—all of his political rivals—we have to do the same thing with women.” He suggested that they be sent to “breeding gulags. The good ones will be liberated. The bad ones will toil in the mines forever.”

This is a very long piece, but it’s a stunning piece of reportage. Among other things, I marvelled as Lewis’s stamina as well as her ability to converse with a long list of unspeakable male creeps.


Don’t call the midwife: smartphones are dialling down global birthrates

Sunday’s Observer column

Sometimes, a number is worth a thousand words. One such number is 2.1. It’s called the “replacement rate”: the number of children born to each woman that keeps a population stable without immigration. And in more than two-thirds of the world’s 195 countries, that average number of births has fallen below the replacement rate. In 66 countries, according to a study by John Burn-Murdoch of the Financial Times, the average is now closer to one than two. And in some it is zero.

Combine that with the fact that people are, on average, living longer, and you have the makings of the perfect storm that lies ahead for many societies. Exhibit A in this context is Japan, which currently has about 100,000 citizens aged 100 or more. In 1963 there were just 153 centenarians. The replacement rate in Japan has fallen from four in 1950 to 1.15 now, with consequences that are sometimes, er, awkward. The country now produces more nappies for incontinent adults than for infants, for example. And each solitary Japanese infant born today could have as many as 16 great-great-grandparents vying for his or her attention in due course…

Read on

Also available in a pdf version here


  This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Monday 1 June, 2026

King’s re-framed

An unusual view of one of Cambridge’s iconic buildings.


Quote of the Day

”We live in a world where there is more and more information and less and less meaning.”   Jean Baudrillard

This insight, that reality has been replaced by representation, was what inspired the movie The Matrix.


Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Franz Schubert | An die Musik, D. 547 (Live at Metropolitan Opera, New York, 2023) | Lise Davidsen

Link

Short and exquisite.


Long Read of the Day

 On Teaching Machines to Predict Death

Interesting essay by Muhammad Aurangzeb Ahmad which examines how AI mortality-prediction models can perpetuate healthcare inequities and create harmful self-fulfilling prophecies.

The French poet Jean de La Fontaine has a famous quote that “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” We find echoes of this phenomenon in global literature, whether it’s Oedipus in the Greek Myths, Rostum and Sohrab from Iran, or the story of Kamsa and Krishna in the Hindu tradition. There are elements of self-full filling prophecy that we are seeing in the world of predictive modeling.

Consider the use of AI and machine learning models to predict risk of mortality in an ICU setting. Some of these models have extremely high accuracy and precision. They do in milliseconds what it would take a team of clinicians hours to synthesize. The predictive power of such models need to be contextualized however: A mortality prediction model is trained on historical data i.e., on what happened to patients who looked like this, had these labs, were managed in this way. But the historical data does not merely record biology, it also records medicine as it was practiced. This includes all its established patterns, its habits, its inequities, and its mistakes.

Consider a well known finding that has been often used as a cautionary tale: in a certain historical ICU dataset, patients with a diagnosis of asthma had lower predicted mortality than otherwise similar patients without it. This seems absurd, asthma is a serious respiratory condition. When researchers looked closely, they realized that the problem was not about asthma biologically but it was about care. Asthma patients were more likely to have their respiratory distress recognized early. They arrived with better documentation, better advocates, better access to specialists who knew them. The asthma diagnosis was not a protective biological factor. It was a marker of a particular kind of patient i.e., one who had navigated the healthcare system in a way that produced better documentation, faster escalation, more attentive management…


Remembering James Mayall 

On Friday I went to the Memorial event for James Mayall organised by his Cambridge college to honour the memory of an extraordinary man. I was there because I had been lucky enough to have had his friendship, and because he had changed the way I think.

I first got to know him in the mid-1990s when he was Professor of International Relations in Cambridge and I was writing A Brief History of the Future, on the origins of the Internet. He was emphatically not a techie but he was intrigued by the technology and the impact that a global network might have on the international system. And so we began to meet and talk.

He was one of the wisest people I ever knew. On the one hand he was a formidable scholar who wore his erudition lightly. But he also had a kind of worldly wisdom which came from having travelled very widely, and from working outside of academia. One felt sometimes that James had seen everything, good and bad, about humanity. Among other things, he had been a British Army officer who had served in Africa and elsewhere. And he looked like a handsome Brigadier whose sense of humour had not been surgically removed at Sandhurst.

On one memorable occasion he and I travelled to Seattle for a meeting of the Internet Political Economy Forum, a small discussion group of engineers and international relations scholars which had sprung up after the arrival of the World Wide Web. This particular meeting took place in the Whiteley Centre, a beautiful scholarly retreat on Friday Island in the Puget Sound. (Among its many attractions was the fact that one was transported to it by seaplane!)

One morning there was a particularly animated discussion in the conference room and at one stage James reached over to me and asked (in a whisper) if I’d brought any cigars. I nodded and he suggested we slip outside onto the deck overlooking the Sound for a breath of fresh air (and tobacco). We sat peacefully in the sunshine watching a mega-yacht owned, no doubt, by a Microsoft billionaire, dropping anchor. And after a while he asked, “Do you think that this technology will have the revolutionary impact on the world that your friends inside think?”

I answered — confidently — “yes” because this was indeed what I thought. James sat back meditatively puffing on his cigar and looking quietly thoughtful. After a few minutes, slightly irritated by his reticence, I said “What do you think, James?” He puffed away briefly and then replied: “We’ll see, dear boy, we’ll see.” And at that moment the first inklings of doubt entered my utopian soul! Where it has remained — and festered — ever since. And it’s why, when asked for a brief description of myself, I always reply that I’m a recovering Utopian.


My Commonplace booklet

The bottled-water racket

Henry Mance has a nice piece in the Financial Times arguing that “None of modernity’s silly purchases can compare with bottled water when there is drinkable stuff in the taps.”

He’s right, which is why when that bright smiling waitress asks you “Still or Sparkling?”, the correct answer is “Neither”.

The bottled-water fad, he says, is everywhere.

”Really, it should never have survived the farce that is Fiji Water: a US-owned brand of “natural artesian water” that is extracted more than 5,000 miles from America, while nearly a fifth of Fijians have no domestic access to drinking water. “

Spot on. Mine’s a glass of tap water. Cheers!


This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!


Friday 29 May, 2026

Popping up

I know, I know, it looks as though we are starting an opium farm. But they just popped up in a part of the vegetable bed that was lying fallow with no encouragement from us.


Quote of the Day

”People are wrong when they say opera is not what it used to be. It is what it used to be. That is what’s wrong with it.”

  • Noel Coward

I disagree. That’s exactly what’s right about it.


Musical alternative to the morning’s radio news

Dick Gaughan | Ruby Tuesday

Link


Long Read of the Day

The Hidden Cost of Automated Thinking

Thinking about the intrinsic inexplicability of LLMs reminded me of this lovely essay by the Harvard legal scholar Jonathan Zittrain about ‘intellectual debt’. And so I dug it out and re-read it. It’s as good as I remembered. And strangely prescient, given that it was published in 2019.

Here’s how it opens:

Like many medications, the wakefulness drug modafinil, which is marketed under the trade name Provigil, comes with a small, tightly folded paper pamphlet. For the most part, its contents—lists of instructions and precautions, a diagram of the drug’s molecular structure—make for anodyne reading. The subsection called “Mechanism of Action,” however, contains a sentence that might induce sleeplessness by itself: “The mechanism(s) through which modafinil promotes wakefulness is unknown.”

Provigil isn’t uniquely mysterious. Many drugs receive regulatory approval, and are widely prescribed, even though no one knows exactly how they work. This mystery is built into the process of drug discovery, which often proceeds by trial and error. Each year, any number of new substances are tested in cultured cells or animals; the best and safest of those are tried out in people. In some cases, the success of a drug promptly inspires new research that ends up explaining how it works—but not always. Aspirin was discovered in 1897, and yet no one convincingly explained how it worked until 1995. The same phenomenon exists elsewhere in medicine. Deep-brain stimulation involves the implantation of electrodes in the brains of people who suffer from specific movement disorders, such as Parkinson’s disease; it’s been in widespread use for more than twenty years, and some think it should be employed for other purposes, including general cognitive enhancement. No one can say how it works.

This approach to discovery—answers first, explanations later—accrues what I call intellectual debt. It’s possible to discover what works without knowing why it works, and then to put that insight to use immediately, assuming that the underlying mechanism will be figured out later. In some cases, we pay off this intellectual debt quickly. But, in others, we let it compound, relying, for decades, on knowledge that’s not fully known.

In the past, intellectual debt has been confined to a few areas amenable to trial-and-error discovery, such as medicine. But that may be changing, as new techniques in artificial intelligence—specifically, machine learning—increase our collective intellectual credit line…

Do read on. It’s good.


Books, etc.

Kieran Setiya has an interesting essay about David Edmond’s biography of “the most famous philosopher most people have never heard of”, Derek Parfit. I never knew him, but I’ve always been intrigued by him, partly because he was married to a lovely former colleague of mine, and also because he was an interesting photographer.

He was also, in some respects, a caricature of academic impracticability. One nice quote from Setiya’s piece captures this elegantly:

Parfit’s theory of personal identity as fundamentally psychological, not physical, is echoed in his relationship to his own body, which he treats, according to a friend and colleague, ‘like a mildly inconvenient golf cart he has to drive around in order to get his mind from Oxford to Boston to New York to New Brunswick’.”

That fits neatly with the image of him conveyed in “How to be Good” a memorable New Yorker profile of him by Larissa MacFarquhar published in 2011.

In the way that he moves and carries himself, Parfit gives the impression of one who is unaware of being looked at, perhaps because he spends so much time alone. He clutches his computer bag. He fidgets. His hair is white and fluffy and has settled into a pageboy of the kind that was fashionable for men in the fifteenth century. He wears the same outfit every day: white shirt, black trousers.

There is something not-there about him, an unphysical, slightly androgynous quality. He lacks the normal anti-social emotions—envy, malice, dominance, desire for revenge. He doesn’t believe that his conscious mind is responsible for the important parts of his work. He pictures his thinking self as a government minister sitting behind a large desk, who writes a question on a piece of paper and puts it in his out-tray. The minister then sits idly at the desk, twiddling his thumbs, while in some back room civil servants labor furiously, come up with the answer, and place it in his in-tray. Parfit is less aware than most of the boundaries of his self—less conscious of them and less protective. He is helplessly, sometimes unwillingly, empathetic: he will find himself overcome by the mood of the person he is with, especially if that person is unhappy.

After he married Janet Radcliff-Richards, writes MacFarquhar,

Parfit lost his heart to a beautiful eighteenth-century house near Avebury, a Neolithic henge monument in Wiltshire. He had to have it — he bid the price up and was terribly anxious until the deed was signed. Then, happy to have won his house, he sat in his study with the blinds down. Ten minutes away, there was a glorious bluebell wood, and he loved bluebell woods — one of his fears about global warming was that it would get too hot for bluebells — but Richards couldn’t get him to go there. It existed: that was enough. Eventually, she realized that her need for human company, modest as it was, was greater than he was capable of meeting. They sold the house, she bought a house in London, and he went back to his rooms in All Souls. From then until he retired, more than ten years later, they spent very little time together, although they spoke on the phone several times a day.

You get the idea.


 

My commonplace booklet

I’d often wondered where the term “GI” came from and had always assumed it meant something like “General Induction” as a way of describing military draftees. Turns out, its etymology is much more interesting, as I discovered yesterday when visiting the new exhibition at the American Cemetery in Madingley (which, by the way, is really worth a visit if you happen to be in Cambridge.


This Blog is also available as an email three days a week. If you think that might suit you better, why not subscribe? One email on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays delivered to your inbox at 5am UK time. It’s free, and you can always unsubscribe if you conclude your inbox is full enough already!