This Isn’t the Internet I Envisioned
I lost an old friend recently. I’m not going to share any additional information about the circumstances to avoid giving clues to their identity, because they were well known in certain circles, and their family has been through enough.
“We rarely suffer from bad intentions or actors. However, we do frequently suffer from the inadvertent effects of things that were meant to do good. That doesn’t mean we should stop doing them.”
Not a household name, but well-known enough that the death was announced across various media outlets and, of course, social media. I don’t really normally hobnob with folks whose passing merits public comment, so perhaps I am just naïve, but man, the user comments were brutal. You would have thought they were Bernie Madoff.
Now I knew this person really well. They sometimes had an abrasive personality, or maybe that certain kind of douchiness forged by circumstances that push an awkward person into social situations because of their passion for a subject, which leads to an adaptation to be perceived as normal. Think Elon Musk, but before he started down this Bond villain arc.
But definitely not the type of individual whose death should be celebrated, which is, if you think about it, thankfully tiny, even if you believe such a thing is morally acceptable. But I’m not actually here to debate that part.
Those of us who have been here in the digital space since the beginning, accurately or not, have a sort of parental relationship with it. We feel a certain responsibility for it and the societal charges it has enabled. And where we are is not what I signed up for.
It was supposed to make our lives better, not worse. It was supposed to enable the exchange of ideas, lower the barriers between cultures, and empower global commerce.
There was no pivot point, no active decision to head things in this direction. Mark Zuckerberg had a pretty gross idea in the beginning, but it sure wasn’t to imprison our minds and polarize us to the point where we can no longer recognize each other’s humanity. Nor did Alexis Ohanian, Steve Huffman, or Aaron Swartz. No, we did that ourselves. But it was the unintended consequences of something that was supposed to be incredibly beneficial. Sound familiar?
We rarely suffer from bad intentions or actors. However, we do frequently suffer from the inadvertent effects of things that were meant to do good. That doesn’t mean we should stop doing them.
The architects of social media did not set out to create the engines of exploitation and outrage. Smartphones were not created to monopolize attention at the expense of being present. And yet, incentives, scale, and human behavior have combined to produce these outcomes that few anticipated.
The lesson to be learned here isn’t that innovation is inherently dangerous. The lesson here is that technology rarely changes society in the way its creators and adopters expect it to. My internet brought the world closer together, but it also fragmented us more. It democratized information, but it also simultaneously made discerning reality much murkier. Its benefits were real. But the costs were so much higher than we thought. Much higher than I thought.
AI presents the same challenge. The question is not whether it will be useful. It unquestionably will be. The question is what emerges when billions of people, millions of businesses, and thousands of governments begin adapting their behavior around it.
Where we are today is not an American problem. It is not a Chinese problem. It is not an Israeli problem. It is a human problem. We had better get used to the idea that the future rests on us solving global problems, not tribal ones, or there won’t be one. AI is coming, and nothing can stop it. But we can do our best to anticipate and mitigate as many unintended consequences as possible. AI will need infrastructure to power it, and we need to prepare ourselves for the societal disruptions it will cause. Data centers can be built so as not to harm their surroundings, nor exploit the local population into bearing their costs. Job retraining can be a priority. We can ensure we work ethically and avoid losing control. This should be our modern-day eradication of polio. We must. There is no sorcerer to repair the apprentice’s mistakes. All it requires is the will. We can do this. My friend certainly thought we could.