Sunday, April 5, 2026

False Analogies in AI Job Replacement Scenarios

AI is happening. Arguments that "it can never do X" these days often look silly within months. Right now is as bad as it will ever be. If LLM's have limitations, then we will develop another means (likely using LLMs for help); after all, we know general intelligence can exist, because it already does in our brains.

If we survive AI, it looks like we're heading into an interregnum with massive wealth disparities, if we don't have UBI or robots. I'm sorry to say I'm not offering hope here, but rather a critique of several of the bad arguments about why it will be okay.

Argument #1: "Player pianos, cranes, and chess algorithms exist, yet we still have pianists, competitive weightlifters, and chess players."

Why it's wrong: most labor lacks a performance component. That is, it's the end result of your labor people want. They don't want to watch you do it.

This argument has been making the rounds (see here, and here.) First, very few jobs involve a significant performance or "human connection" component. You might prefer to watch a musician (rather than a machine) compose or perform music, but I bet you don't enjoy watching taxi drivers, farmers, or factory workers performing their jobs enough to pay to watch them do it (rather than pay much much less for a machine doing it.)

On one hand, you might buy artisan products that cost more and (to be blunt) have lower, more variable quality, because of the human element - but unless you're pretty wealthy, you don't do this for everything. Or most things.

On the other, even regarding the performance-heavy commodity of music - do you pay to watch it performed every time you hear it? Not since the advent of recording, of which player pianos were one early form. So even for the article's canonical example meant to reassure us, according to Claude, today we have per capita only about 68% of the professional musicians that we had in 1900, even after a century of economic growth. You may be hoping that UBI will support us all - UBI, which is, reminder, NOWHERE in mainstream political discourse.

The vast majority of labor is concerned only with the material end product. So, unless you're lucky to be in the 1% of things which humans are evolutionarily programmed to appreciate seeing performed - e.g., physical or vocal beauty, conversational cleverness, coordination or musculature - AND these are things that you can figure out how to pay your mortgage with (how many competitive weightlifters and chess players can say that?) Also remember that the performers rely on disposable income from everyone else. How are even the performers going to pay the rent?


Argument #2: "The economy is about status competitions, not wealth creation. The AIs are taking away the part we don't want anyway!"

Why it's wrong: status competitions are healthy when the future is bright, and we aren't all trapped in the same status competition. Otherwise, they are unpleasant.

I think the argument is actually partly true, but I don't think it's the good news that this blogger thinks. A lot of our current political dysfunction in the West can be easily understood as people angry that the WRONG SORT are having their status elevated. Before social media, we could all live in our little suburb or capital city or country town, blissfully ignorant of the opinions of the people who were actually making the rules and signing the checks (who, were probably not YOU.) But as soon as we all had smartphones and social media 24/7, many of us found out that our demographic wasn't actually in charge, nor did we share taste or values with the people who were. Particularly in the U.S., for many people who thought they were good, solid, respectable mainstream Americans (and thought everyone else thought that too), the advent of social media was akin to a nightmare where a curtain dropped and they realized they were being laughed at - worst of all, by their MORAL INFERIORS, who (again) were IN CHARGE. It was like the home team suddenly being booed and kicked off the field.

Consider also the well-characterized effect of a tide that lifts all boats - that everyone wants to sign up for the system that keeps making them richer. Trivially obvious, but the implications for liberal democracy's universality, and what people will put up with from their governments during a rising tide, are also worth examining. Such thoughts obviously conflict with the view that obtained across the West until about the mid-2000s, that in accordance with Fukuyama's end of history view, liberal democracy was the only game in town because individual rights and happiness = wealth = national power, and every nation would have to converge to it, or disappear. I remember reading a paper around 2006 that I didn't care for, only because it clearly showed that actually, it's economic growth people care about, not democracy, and people would put up with a lot if they were getting wealthier. (See: China.)

The country that is most stable, and that is most pleasant to live in, is one with multiple overlapping status hierarchies. That way, all your status eggs aren't in one basket. You can choose which status hierarchies to be in, and the hierarchies themselves are not hierarchical (at least not obviously so.) That means you don't even necessarily have to know or care about the other ones. Bowling Alone is a book about the evaporation of community in the United States, and the meaning-making and status that evaporated with it, and the negative consequences thereof. Consider on the other hand an intrusive dictatorship like North Korea, which aspires to create a single monolithic hierarchy by eliminating every status hierarchy but one. In the U.S. the invisible hand has "organically" moved us in much the same direction.

Concern about status can be seen as a problem that is worse in wealthy countries in general. The more your needs are met, the less you have to worry about your needs, and the more you worry about how you compare with others. This goes a long way to explain the behavior of the super-rich, who mostly seem to be signaling to the other super-rich, about how super-rich they are - and of course getting even more super-rich, even though they've achieved what Scott Galloway calls financial escape velocity. Since technology has drawn back the veil of ignorance and continuously reminded us what the other half thinks of us, and we're in fewer communities (overlapping status hierarchies) on top of that - it does raise the question. Even if things go well and we get massive economic growth - while we're constantly being reminded of our place in the status hierarchy, or our chosen status hierarchies' inferiority to the rule-making ones? Even assuming we're all able to eat after the transition to AI, if our status is based only on what biology tells us to like (and pathetic human brains can't create wealth anymore), then power will be back to beauty queens, quarterbacks and bully-types who dominated most of history. (Or alternately, what if our income drops suddenly while we're still hyper-focused on status?)


Argument #3 (more of an analogy): the welfare of horses has improved dramatically since the industrial revolution. As the value of their labor fell, they have increasingly lived lives of leisure instead of labor.

Why this is wrong: This is the wrong analogy. The salient feature here is control by a superior intelligence. Therefore, we are wild horses in the neolithic about to be domesticated.

For thousands of years after domestication, horses were worked brutally, prior to machines replacing them. Because horses are pleasing to humans, today their numbers are the same or possibly slightly higher than before the advent of the car. On average they have better lives. So, if this analogy is correct, what we should expect is that we're about to be enslaved for many generations of AI dominating humans (making us do things the AIs still can't do) much to the humans' suffering, until better technology eliminates that need - and then hope that, in a few centuries or millennia, the AIs put our descendants out in a nice pasture. But even the life of a pastured horse doesn't appeal to most of us. We mostly don't want to be domesticated and watched over by AIs on a human-pasture, doing certain restricted things.

Why You Should Considering Caring About What (Some) Other People Think

If you are a normal human being who already cares about what other people think, and know how to discriminate between the ones you should care about and the ones you shouldn't, this post isn't for you. Please look away.

In childhood, I often got this advice: you shouldn't care about what other people think. I wonder if this is less true now then when I was a kid. It certainly is less true in most other countries relative to the hyper-individualist culture of the U.S. But in my early life, it came from multiple quarters - parents, advertising, peers. And like many things in life, part of the social test is knowing how seriously to take the repetitive slogans broadcast everywhere. I probably took it more seriously than most, hence the italicized disclaimer that began the post. However, if, like me you need a reason to be a normal healthy fully socialized human, then here are some reasons why you might consider caring what other people think.
  1. Someone who truly does not care what others think is much more likely than the average person to be a psychopath. Consider whether you want to be like a psychopath.

  2. Related, a big part of caring what other people think is empathy; if you don't care what they think, you don't care if you hurt them or offend them. Announcing you don't care what they think and don't care if they're this is saying you might hurt them if not hurting them would inconvenience you. At the very least, it suggests you're not a reliable cooperator. (Story time: I used to love going out of my way to tell people I thought sports were a waste of time. I once did this at a small social gathering, and in a later discussion, one person I'd just met for the first time that day said "You already announced you're incapable of loyalty, no need to weigh in further." While that's not true and I still think they're a waste of time, I've realized that announcing this does nothing but potentially leave certain kinds of people with this impression, which doesn't help anyone.)

  3. Rejecting and denigrating another person's cherished beliefs in public, is a dramatic announcement of #2 above. You're announcing that you don't care if you're hurting people and disrupting their culture. That may be worth it to you, but be clear and honest with yourself WHY before you do this. Also, confirmation bias is a bitch - if you let a black cat cross your path, call a superstitious person a moron and then lose your wallet that day, you'll be ridiculed and (when you've rejected more serious beliefs) a self-destructive moron that others should avoid.

  4. It turns out you can benefit from interacting and coordinating with irrational people. The company you choose to work for may be an example. But, you should balance the benefits you gain against exposure to these people because you may reinforce their irrationality and bad values, you will become more like them, and they will have more influence over your life.

  5. It also turns out that people sometimes have to rapidly (in literal seconds) make snap judgments on you, using easily available information - your appearance, your clothing, your reputation. Even if you think you're valuable in the context where you're being evaluated (meeting with senior leadership at your company, a speed-dating lunch, salesman OR customer), they have no way of knowing that in the seconds where they're making a first impression. AND even if you're so high-value that you're initially rejected and then an evaluator runs across you again later, the evaluator might think "That person could have succeeded/built confidence sooner/faster if they had just worn the thing/acted the way that they were supposed to; that shows arrogance, passive-aggression, and/or poor social awareness, and is a negative predictor for the future."

  6. For rationalists: it's actually not good to change your mind in public too often. Each time you change your mind to another position in public, that's the rational needle edging over toward "listen to someone else besides this person, because they're an inferior decision-maker" (at best) to "they are capricious and unpredictable and their commitment is not meaningful." The exception is if you're so powerful you can afford to be capricious, because you have something others want and they have no choice but to put up with you. But, you're almost certainly not that powerful.
IMPORTANT: it's hard to start caring what others think later in life, because it doesn't come automatically, and you might start caring about everyone, or caring about the wrong people. It's kind of like trying to pick up a sport in adulthood. You're just not going to be as good at it as people who have been practicing since they were kids. So think: does this person share my values? Do I want to be like them? Am I likely to spend more time around them in the future? Pragmatically, do they have some impact over your life? Then that's a good candidate for caring what they think about you. (Notice that this is still focused on real actual people, not some hypothetical person you haven't met.)

Notice that many of the above are really about how you react to what other people say and do, rather than whether you actually care. That's actually the beginning of caring. For those people who you've decided are actually worth more of your attention than the average human, what they say and do (about and to you) is worth more of your consideration.

You (or my naive past self) might ask, great, so we should just tolerate everyone's religions, superstitions, and irrational beliefs? No, but you don't have to announce your negative impressions and beliefs about the people around you every time they pop into your mind. Oh, so we should be sneaky and lie and smile while silently detesting and devaluing them? Also no. But in any given moment, there is a literally infinite number of true statements you can make to another person, and an also literally infinite number of reasons you might say them. Take social reality of yourself and your fellow humans into account, and how it is likely to affect your future.

Saturday, February 7, 2026

The Day the Aliens Took the Nukes Away

The day the aliens took the nukes away was a Tuesday in March. It was just past lunch in Europe. People on the U.S. East Coast were just waking up.

They didn't arrive in massive ships that hovered ominously over major cities, and appear on video screens announcing they wanted to make contact. They arrived as small, silver tic tacs, a few meters long, like the ones in all the US Navy videos. No one knows if that was their machines, or that was them. They formed a grid over the inhabited land surface of the Earth, hovering ten or so meters up. Some of them were over parking lots in cities, some over green rolling pastures, some among the trees in forests. Efforts to touch or damage or destroy them were futile; impossibly quickly they moved out of the way, and objects and energy went around them. Rocks, missiles, laser pointers, baseball bats - they jumped aside, or deflected it.

After a few minutes, radio stations, text apps, emails servers were overhwlemed, and flooded, and this message came across in English, Chinese, Russian, Spanish, and Arabic:

"Habitable planets are vanishingly rare. You are now able to damage yours. We are intervening to protect you and your planet. Starting now, nuclear weapons will not explode. You should test this to verify it. We have no plans to return for the foreseeable future."

It repeated three more times. Then, they zipped away. They were seen on cameras and radar and infrared, zooming off in all directions from Earth at massive accelerations.

Many people thought it was a prank. Panicked meetings occurred across the world, discussing how to test it. Then, someone decided it was not a prank, and launched first.

Millions of people cried and screamed, hid in their homes or tried to drive home to their families on gridlocked roads, pounding the steering wheel wanting only to hold their children as the alerts blared from their phones and televisions.

The first missile struck twenty-eight minutes after the visitation: a Russian missile hitting Berlin. It missed downtown by three kilometers, crashing through the roof of a warehouse, scattered in tiny smoking fragments across the warehouse ruins. Others followed. You have probably already seen the video of the American one that hit the exact middle of Red Square, making a kinetic impact crater, but nothing else. Eighty-three people were killed in Washington when an apartment building collapsed from the impact of a Russian missile. There were radiation leaks from many of them, but not a single one exploded. There were less than a thousand deaths worldwide from kinetic impacts in populated areas.

By dinner in Europe and lunchtime on the American East Coast, lots of people believed: they were really aliens, and the nukes are really gone. People cried with joy that they'd just woken up from a nightmare: one that most people had been in necessary denial of for decades, just to function, that seemed about to come true. And power plants kept running. PET scans kept working. But somehow, the weapons wouldn't work.

But in capitals, there wasn't celebration, there were more panicked meetings. They realized: in hours, Earth had been thrust back into the era of great power politics. NATO issued an emergency summons for all its troops up to the age of 50. Russia's legions began to mass defensively on the Western side of Moscow. China immediately began fueling its China strait amphibious fleet. Cruise missiles with chemical munitions began to fly back and forth across Europe and Asia. Bombers took to the air.

In two weeks, Russia was pushed, stumbling, back out of Ukraine. Kaliningrad was Koenigsburg again, and Moscow looked much the worse for wear; Red Square was hardly the only crater. The few remaining middle- and long-range missiles were fitted with chemical and biological agents, in desperation; an anthrax outbreak began in Seattle. NATO crossed Belarus and offered Moscow terms for surrender.

In Asia, Chinese troops landed on Taiwan's west coast. Cruise missiles destroyed the Three Gorges dam and tens of thousands drowned. American ships sped across the Pacifc, engaged with thousands of nimble Chinese gunboats. This is where the worst of the fighting was - in the China Strait, South China Sea, and on Taiwan (with a flattened Taipei), not only are there massive "old-timey" fleet battles, but hunter-killer drones swarm ships and people. Exploding drones give way to "multi-use" personnel hunters, a euphemism for ones with poison needles that can take out ten or more people each. Going outside on deck on a ship in the South China Sea becomes a suicidal assignment. South Korea and Japan attack North Korea, and the Imperial Japanese Navy begins building the Yamato II. Australian and Vietnamese ships hastily arranged coordination protocols and approached from the south. The border between India and Pakistan caught on literal fire, visible from space. Russian troops crossed the Bering Strait into Alaska.

In the end, the nuclear nightmare that hid in the closet, like a real monster, was over - but once restraint was removed, a conventional World War III lasted five years and still cost a hundred million lives in warfare and famine. People still saw the tic tacs occasionally, but they haven't talked to us since.

Sunday, December 21, 2025

The Mongols Were Good For Europe

For the most recent alternate history thought experiment, see Ancient East Indian Settlement of Australia.

As a standard refrain: it's depressing that almost all alternate history is about some episode of organized violence ending differently. It would be much better to instead focus on counterfactuals about the spread of technological and cultural innovations. What would a Tang or Byzantine industrial revolution look like? What about North America where they never forgot about ironworking around the pre-Columbian Great Lakes? But the next best thing would be to take a war or conquest out of history altogether.

So what if, instead of gory scenes of Asian steppe horseman dragging the Pope to the Tiber, wrapped in a carpet, we take the Mongols out of history completely? First, it's always worth pointing out: both China and Russia were ruled by the Mongols, the last nomadic conquerors, for the better part of two centuries, and they're both still here, though obviously different for it. Baghdad, the heart of Islam, was sacked horrifically, and that religion is hardly obscure today.

It's counterintuitive to talk about the benefits of the Mongol conquests, but they arguably created an advantage to Europe and contemporary Christendom. Best understood, after the Mongol conquest, the Silk Road was safer, facilitating diffusion of goods and technological innovation that frequently originated in the Middle East and China; at the same time, those competitors were weakened and development slowed by the conquest. It's not implausible that the dynasty that followed the Song would have been more advanced than the Yuan, and less inward-focused, as the Ming was in our history. The treasure fleets would likely have started sailing earlier, and Europe (with less technology and less experience with trade) later. A fifteenth century industrial revolution in China is not an absurd notion. At the same time, the cities and states of Central Asia would have continued flourishing, and Islam would not have had the violent psychological collapse and loss of its cultural center of gravity that the sack of Baghdad effected.

In Europe, we might see multiple states in what is now Russia and Ukraine around Kiev, Pskov, Novgord, and Moscow, though if there was consolidation to a single state, more likely it would have been Kiev than Moscow, without the Mongols appointing the Muscovites as their tax collectors. More importantly though - in our history, Constantinople was explicitly an ally of the Mongols, although in the end, the Mongols cursed Constantinople to fall sooner - by creating a power vacuum in Anatolia that was not truly filled until the Ottomans appeared. Without the Mongols creating anarchy, Constantinople would have survived longer. This would actually have been bad for Europe. When Constantinople fell, the Ottomans then controlled the Silk Road and cut off Silk Road trade - which thanks to the Mongols, European merchants had been using to their benefit. It was in the decades following the fall of Constantinople that European merchants sought ways to replace this route, and they were so desperate that they started doing things like sailing around Africa, or even hail-Mary voyages around the back of the Earth so they could (in theory) approach China from the ocean to its east. Finally, in our history, cannons became important by the mid-1300s in both Europe and China. With the uninterrupted development of China's economy (and a possible early industrial revolution), and a slowed diffusion of technology back to Europe from a more dangerous Silk Road, they would have developed cannons earlier than Europe. An Asian great divergence, in terms of both technology and colonization of the New World, becomes much more likely.

You could argue that it was the geography of Europe that predisposed it to diverge from China in the early modern age, and I think that is true as well; but even so, Europe was only ahead of Asia by one or two centuries. That's why, by smashing most of Asia but turning around at Hungary and Poland, the Mongols did a great favor for future Europe.

Monday, October 20, 2025

We Make Numbers From Shapes: Hints from Neurology

As a standard disclaimer, I am not a mathematician, and you should take these as observations rather than arguments. (For example, the amount of time I would have to invest to understand even this discussion is large.) But these observations add up to an assertion that, rather than numbers and there being an abstract relationship between two separate domains, numbers are a type of geometrical entity, though they are arbitrary and do not exist separate from our nervous systems, much like pain or non-spectral colors like pink. As in that argument, again observations from neurology are central.

In Gerstmann syndrome, patients who have had a dominant (usually left) parietal lobe injury, often from a stroke, lose the ability both to distinguish left and right, and to do arithmetic. (They also lose the ability to distinguish individual fingers, suggesting how important they are for counting. Children born blind often begin counting on their fingers without being taught.) It's also notable that almost all blind mathematicians are geometers.

Related, I've long been mystified why in OCD, among the more abstract obsessions patients develop, are not just symmetry, but counting, and if you have one, you're more likely to have the other than random chance would predict. In terms of evolutionary psychology, many psychiatric illnesses are easily understood as hyperactive subsystems that in their normal setting and function, would be quite adaptive. In paleolithic Africa, you need anxiety to survive, you should be afraid of heights and snakes - and you should be able to frequently and easily orient yourself. Consequently, symmetry being part of OCD makes sense. But why counting, or especially fixation or avoidance with certain numbers? Some people insist on doing things in multiples of 3 or 5, or must avoid certain numbers (7 is frequent, possibly because it's the highest single digit prime?) to the point that it impacts their life, despite knowing how irrational it is - a smart-aleck roommate calls them to say they turned their TV volume to 7 and this is so uncomfortable to the OCD patient that she has to drive home from work to adjust it even at the risk of getting fired. It's hard to explain why the number 5 (or any number) would be good, or 7 would be bad, in the Pleistocene - unless it's actually the symmetry system that's hyperactive here. It's obviously suggestive that when people with number-avoidance describe why they don't like certain numbers, they often describe them as "spiny" or "lopsided" or in other spatial terms.

Unsurprisingly, the same brain region (the inferior parietal sulcus, Brodmann area 7) is involved in both symmetry and counting. Therefore, that a lesion to this area would result in deficits in both these abilities is completely predictable; but why would the brain have evolved so the same area was serving both purposes? As before, even proving that numbers are a geometric entity in their representations in our brains does not give us a generalizeable argument about what numbers are, and it's possible that even if this is true for humans, it's only provincially true for the way our nervous systems work - but when AI systems develop the same way without being directly instructed, it does increase our confidence that our nervous systems and the AIs are converging in the way they represent something because that's really what they objectively are. On that note, it was discovered that what one AI was actually doing, when it is doing arithmetic, was spontaneously turning a modeled shape and counting vertices. It "evolved" this system on its own without being instructed.

Friday, October 3, 2025

Trump is Our First Barracks Emperor: America's Crisis of the Third Century

States pass through lifecycles of 200 to 250 years. If this statement is true, then to isolate the process from other variables we should look for a a part of the world with a large fertile plain and a single ethnicity, and if left to its own devices its dynasties would last 200 to 250 years. This is in fact what we see in China, the best known example, but the pattern has been noted throughout history and throughout the world. This 200-250 year period is of obvious interest to Americans in 2025.

One mechanism for the transition from one state to the next is that the state's elites lose control of the succession process, and in this respect, history does often rhyme. Roman history provides good examples. The Roman Empire is usually divided into the Principate period lasting from the Battle of Actium in 31 BC, to the assassination of Severus Alexander by Maximinus Thrax in AD 235 that ushered in the Crisis of the Third Century. This was followed by the Dominate period, starting from Diocletian's administration in 284 to the fall of the Western Empire in 476.

Of these two transitions, the fall of the Western empire is better known. In AD 476, Odoacer interrupted the Western succession, or rather, he disintermediated it. As with most things in history, to contemporaries, things are either not actually so sudden, or they only seem sudden to isolated elites in denial due to normalcy bias. In this case, for a century at least, the Western emperor had largely been a figurehead for the Germanic magistri militum who held military power. When Odoacer killed the magister militum Orestes and deposed the last emperor (who was actually the magister's son), he was merely (finally) cutting out the middle man. At the time, contemporaries did not think much of the development, so naturally did it flow from the circumstances, and only later did historians begin to mark it as a major transition. But it was still the final removal of succession - even if the office was mostly ceremonial - from elite oversight, that is, from the generals who had been the de facto power in Rome during much of the Dominate.



Maximinus Thrax says Senators are cucks. "Just kill...I don't even wait." From imperiumromanum.pl

The Crisis of the Third Century is much more interesting. There were four dynasties during the Principate, but even when each of these ended, there were brief periods of at most a few years before stability returned. During the Principate, there was a tradition (if not what we would recognize as a formal institution) of future emperors being made the adopted sons of previous emperors, and then being chosen by the Senate. Earlier in the Principate dynasties, Senators frequently had military experience - they retained their connections with the legions and hence, the military's respect. But the trend during the Principate was toward less and less military experience among the elite families that produced Senators, and already by the Antonine dynasty, the military experience and connections of Senators had decreased dramatically. At its base, civilization is always backed by a threat of violence, but the more distant that threat is, the more pleasant our lives are and the more successful we could say the civilization is.

But by the time of the Severan dynasty, the emperors focused only on keeping the army happy (Alfoldy 1974), and when one side (the military) can use violence with no real threat of retaliation (from the Senate), there is clearly an unstable equilibrium. Thus, when Roman soliders assassinated the last Principate emperor Severus Alexander in 235, and then the soldiers of the legion rather than the Senate decided Maximinus Thrax was emperor, we see another example of elites losing the power to control succession. Maximinus never even came to Rome when he was "emperor" (read: general who threatened to kill others and avoided being killed for long enough for contemporaries to bother writing down his name.) Maximinus was, during his brief "reign", openly adversarial with the Senate, who rightly feared him when he did approach. This way of becoming emperor - a "barracks emperor" who had little interest in affairs in Rome or ability to govern the empire - continued until Diocletian's power-sharing arrangement in 284. The Crisis had begun.

The succession process in the United States would seem to bear little resemblance to that of the Romans. Indeed, our regular elections were set up partly with their example in mind as a warning. Though we've had leaders popular for their military record, it's not the elites’ changing relationship with the military that makes the analogy here. We choose our leaders through direct election by citizens, and since very early in the republic our choice has been constrained by two elite-controlled organizations called political parties presenting us with their candidates. It's difficult for most Americans to admit this, but this process (and until the early 2000s, the mass media oligopoly that supported it) is how the elites controlled succession - and it's even harder for us to admit that this may have been for the best. While the franchise has expanded over time, it's not obvious that each step in turn immediately changed the kinds of choices the parties were offering for national leader. Starting around 2010 the tone of politics and kind of candidates offered had, however, seemingly undergone a rapid shift, maybe not coincidentally now that everyone had a smartphone and social media.

This is how the elites have lost control of the succession process - in our case not by losing respect of and control over the military, but by a colluding media and party elite losing control of the information ecosystem and candidate selection process. The analogy here is that Trump is Maximinus Thrax, the first outsider who rose to power using a new process to circumvent the old elite-controlled pathway to leadership, with assassinations of character rather than physical bodies. This is why conventional candidates have been roadkill, like clueless, ossified Roman Senators during the Crisis, who might have continued maneuvering among their colleagues in Rome like their forebears did, not understanding how irrelevant such efforts had become - while generals far from Rome tried to get into position to assassinate the current one, wherever he might be encamped. If Gavin Newsom succeeds in turning Trump's social media appeal-to-the-masses approach against him, he will just be the next in a succession of social media barracks emperors - and the elites then will have lost control of the succession process, and the Crisis of the Twenty-First Century will have begun.

Alföldy, G. "The Crisis of the Third Century as Seen by Contemporaries." Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 15 (1974): 89–111.

Sunday, May 18, 2025

Protect Your Slack, Delay Moloch: Why You SHOULD Defend Yourself With Artificial Rents


Inspired by Behold the Pale Child at Secretorum: "the arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards Bakkalon." (or Moloch. Moloch, at the bottom of the Darwinian/economic/political gravity well!)

The point of life is to be happy. How to go about this is mostly biologically determined. Yes, it's good to make others happy if you can, and to have making others happy make you happy as an incentive; for most of us, as social animals, this is also biologically determined. This position is that of a modern-day Epicurus, enhanced with and connected to facts about the natural world and our place in it. Not very controversial, you might think.

But I suspect that many people in the rationalist blogosphere will find it incredibly selfish to think first and foremost of oneself and ones own happiness, instead of the utilatarian (more specifically, Parfitian) long and wide view of everyone's happiness. (This more "selfish" position is not necessarily just individual hedonism, but rather would include having birthday parties for your kids instead of donating that money to dig a well in the developing world.[1]) In a curiously Calvinist-adjacent take, the implied position of the EA world (and tech capitalists telling young people their identify comes from working unhealthy hours and sacrificing the rest of their lives) is that you should de-emphasize your own happiness here and now since it's such a small drop in the ocean of possible conscious experience throughout time.

And yet if people are biologically limited by the link between their happiness and the amount of work they can do - and the kind they can do - and for whom they do it - and they are - what you're asking is many people to sacrifice their own happiness for an uncertain outcome, for an uncertain philosophical position.

The position of working 110% all-out all the time is not just something from the world of Effective Altruism (EA), etc. In a recent post on the Slatestarcodex (SSC) subreddit, in a discussion about the Musk-like approach to constantly fastforwarding everything and having work be eternal crunchtime - a commenter stated that once in a great while, such a push was okay, but it's not sustainable. I would go one step further: I want to enjoy my life, working hard diminishes that, focusing on any one thing to the exclusion of most others diminishes that, and you should avoid crunchtime and working hard wherever possible. (That is, I value slack - see Church of the Subgenius - and I will defend that slack if necessary, even if I have to do it surreptitiously.) Wanting to enjoy your life, and do more things you directly enjoy more often, and fewer instrumental things, is not something to be ashamed of. That's why I'm posting it online and telling you it's good to feel the same way.[2]

It's true that if everyone thought this way, then life-saving and -improving technologies would progress much more slowly. But herein I'm taking the (apparently very hard to grasp position) that I neither want to work that hard, nor do I want to get in the way of people who do want to work hard. I say in all seriousness: good for them, I'm glad we have people built this way![3] But don't feel bad if you're not one of them, and you're almost certainly not. I'm definitely not, and I feel great about it! I've even turned down promotions for this reason. Again, not controversial, I wouldn't think. But it feels very much like an emperor's new clothes position to take.

The opposite of slack is hypercompetition, which I don't have to further describe to anyone living in the developed world in the 21st century, and I would argue a big part of Moloch is hypercompetitiveness (Moloch in the sense of Scott Alexander's synechdoche for a self-perpetuating system with serious and unintentional consequences that benefit nobody.) There is only so much work you can do; you need some slack, and though our modern Molochian culture has trained us to hide our slack-seeking from ourselves, we do it, or we burn out. And part of the outrage at people finding ways to guard slack is a result of hiding our desire for slack from ourselves (read: reaction formation and the predictable reaction to seeing others fulfill their fantasy) when a source of slack protection is noticed. (See: "tears of rent-seekers" regarding taxis, academia, government, or any other area where people have goodness forbid given themselves some extra slack to help them enjoy their lives.)

Other strategies: shrouding - which normally means companies trying to avoid competing on price by making their pricing opaque, but works in the labor market too when workers cooperate to obscure measurement of output - outlawing payment for piece work was a major victory. Another: avoidance of direct market exposure, or any situation where your livelihood rests on your having to react in real time to developments - usually the more layers within an organization away from a customer interaction surface or competition with other organizations, the quieter your life is. (Must be balanced against the risk of paroxysmal collapses; the cycle-time of this class of org is relevant to your choices here (nations = centuries, companies = years or decades if already long-established.)

Some concrete examples are in order, of how you can and should protect slack and benefit your life by erecting artificial rent structures.


SITUATION 1 You're the leader of Organization A. You believe in what the organization is doing, genuinely care about the people there and want them to have good lives, and as a result you "leave some money on the table" by not expecting them to work that hard or otherwise sacrifice their well-being to the organization, as long as they keep the wheels turning.

Then Organization X comes along (for the Parfit-style calculators out there, let's say it has the same number of people), which does NOT care about its people this way, and they are constantly sacrificing themselves, or at least on a sort of psychological Malthusian frontier (of stress rather than starvation.) This might well be an Elon Musk company. Organization X eats Organization A's lunch, and Organization A is destroyed or absorbed, along with the lifestyle of the people in it.


SITUATION 2 Same as above, but you're the leader of Organization B. You know it is likely that if you do NOT drive your people to self-sacrifice, then a Muskite will drive theirs in such a way, and then they'll come for you. So for your organization to continue existing, you have to work them to the point of self-sacrifice. You do this, and keep existing, but the people who work at your organization are now miserable.


SITUATION 3 You're the leader of Organization A, same as Situation 1. Except you have a plan. You want your employees to have a good life but you know that the Muskite misery engines out there like Organization X will come get you. So you make a couple calls to a governor or legislator, take them golfing and make some arrangements, etc. Organization X now finds you have an administrative or legal moat - an artificial rent protector - for example, to do what your org does they have to be in a certain consortium and no one will let the Muskite org join, or Organization X can't operate in a certain business in a certain territory, unless the workers within Org X get lots of protections. You know this can't work forever, but it will work for a while, and benefit the people you care most about. Organization X loses its advantage in being willing to essentially trade personal slack for victory. People on SSC read about this, and cry their eyes out talking about Rents, and how you're immoral for depriving the rest of the world of the fruits of your labors (invisible tragedies, etc.)


I used to join in with the "ha ha, rentiers dying, suck it taxi drivers" until I realized that within a few years, AI will be able to do all of our jobs, and the value of labor will race to zero. Of the strategies I've mentioned, only legal artificial rent structures have any chance of lasting for any length of time. So I'm unashamed to admit I would rather work for Organization A in Situation 3, and unless you're the 1% of the 1% in productivity, you would too. (I hate to be the one to tell you, but if you think you are a 10x 1% of 1% superstar, you are much more likely to be delusional than an actual superstar, and the angrier that statement made you, the more likely you're delusional.) Of course, sometimes the rents come "honestly" from an innovation - but then again, even patent protection is an artifical rent, since it's not just the innovation itself. Mostly rents come "artificially" from barriers like the ones I've described. Taxi medallions, medical licenses, etc. although in most cases there's usually at least some non-bullshit reason for the certification, or guild membership, whatever it is (e.g. it's a quality signal.)

Note that I've written these thought experiments with you in the position of the leader. But you're almost certainly not. If, in a true Rawlsian approach - if you fell out of the sky at random into these thought experiments - you'd probably be a rank-and-file employee. In that spirit:


SITUATION 4 You're an employee (not the leader) of Organization A. You believe in what you do and what the organization stands for. Your leader seems to genuinely want everyone to have good lives and doesn't work anyone too hard. As you smirk and murmur to your colleagues at pool parties, this is because the leader is friends with the governor, and got a law passed artificially protecting you from competition, which is why you have a good income without working too hard.

Then the leader dies or steps down, and a new CEO takes over - one who reads SSC and Marginal Revolution. "Enough with this laziness! Company X has their own lobbyists, and we can't wait for them to get the law repealed and be caught off-guard. 80 hour weeks! No vacation or weekends if you want to be considered serious around here! Constant aggressive deadlines! Do it 10x faster! We're depriving the rest of the world and future generations of the fruits of our labor, how selfish that is, think of all the hidden tradegies! Don't like it? Emigrate/quit and go to our competitor, who will probably have to do the same thing to keep up anyway." Would you say "Yes! Finally, our new leader is high-agency, and this is the moral thing to do instead of collecting rents"? Yeah, sure you would.[4] If you do, you burn out, ruining your health and family life, plus you have no more time to read SSC.


Certainly it's a difficult balance to find, and often you're just surfing a temporary inefficiency wave until that wave breaks and you're back in the same Molochian world as everyone else - but you should try to find it and ride it as long as you can. In the long run, we're all dead anyway. If you can have 5 or 10 more years of slack instead of zero more years, you are not being immoral to take it, and (for the Parfitians in the back) you can't be sure that the only thing you'd do by missing out on the slack is making yourself miserable with no other impact, thus doing the immoral thing of increasing the suffering of the universe on net.


[1] I've noticed that the tech world in general and EA especially is a haven for those who in the abstract, are horrified at the existence of slack (or at least that's the non-revealed preference.) In general consequentialists tend to neglect deontology - the role of duties in what decisions are moral. Consequentialists tend to look for abstract principles for actions to adhere to, but actions are not disembodied principles, they occur in time, and space, and social space - that is, in the context of whatever history and relationships, if any, you have with the people affected. Deontology clears up a lot of the confusion about what to actually do and when to do it, and who to do it with/for. I've also noticed conscientious younger people tend to be consequentialists, and older people season their outlook with more deontology as they age.

[2]Maybe this whole essay is just my own psychotherapy, justifying the following to myself: as a physician, every time I go home at the end of the day or take a day off, I am depriving people of potentially life-saving treatment. Some physicians, more in previous decades than today, kept this in mind and worked ridiculous hours; many modern healthcare organizations are more than happy to take advantage of this mentality of self-sacrifice to make another cent, and then when you start making mistakes because you burn out, they kick you to the curb. Not unique to medicine of course, but I'm very comfortable protecting my time so I can have slack and enjoy my life, and what's more, I limit my responsibilities to my established patients, and not some abstraction of "possible humans in the universe". If you're a naive consequentialist (who doesn't understand deontology or respect the limits set by biology) you've probably dismissed me as Jeffrey Dahmer by this point.

[3]To beat a dead horse: this is not an anti-hard-work screed. If you like to work hard, focus on one thing and one thing only, you find it rewarding, great! Part of civilization's success is that we've set up a system that rewards you, and where the rest of us also by diffusion get the benefit of the wealth and technologies you create. But if your choices start taking away my slack - I'll ask my guild to take our Congressman golfing, after which an artificial moat may mysteriously appear. For a relevant culture-wide take on the same: I once read an account of an American traveler in Japan who said it's great to be a foreigner in Japan - because it's a safe, clean, beautiful, quiet place, due to the crushing social obligations of Japanese culture that keep it this way, and as a foreigner you can free ride on this. But you obviously shouldn't do anything to make it harder to keep the country that way!

[4] SSC surveys have consistently shown that oldest siblings are more likely to be readers. Though it's a stretch, it does make me wonder if an oldest-sibling-rich group concerned about these topics might tend to lack a healthy level of resource anxiety (no older siblings to finish all the dessert before you, hog the TV or soccer ball, etc.) This would lead them to always assume that protecting slack can only be about stupidity or laziness - "Aw, we ALWAYS have to stay on the little kid playground because of them!"