The disappointing brandy scene from Goldfinger (1964) https://youtu.be/I6COBucJQfE?si=saiV5f80ISSB3FGY

Politics is a bit depressing this week, so I thought instead I would focus on the asymmetry of our attitudes towards different high octane liquids.

I remember when I first got interested in wine. It was the early noughties and I was out at a restaurant in Cardiff called Le Cassoulet (no longer trading under that name I understand) with my then boss who liked to hit his expense account pretty hard from time to time. The sommelier seemed to know him quite well and scurried off to get him some particularly old claret to accompany the meal. I think it was from 1972 or thereabouts. I remember noting that it had a different colour (brown) from the red wine I was used to drinking and, when sipped, there were a lot of different flavours and smells competing for my attention. Something which I later heard described as “complexity”. From then on I realised that wine drinking could involve something a bit more than just something nice in a glass to accompany a meal.

The journey of alcoholic drinks from drinks to luxury consumer items and assets is nicely illustrated by the Bond franchise. There are a number of movies we could choose but let’s go for Goldfinger, shall we?

In the disappointing brandy scene from Goldfinger, we have this exchange between M, Bond and the Governor of the Bank of England, Colonel Smithers:

Smithers: “Have a little more of this rather disappointing brandy.”

M: “What’s the matter with it?”

Bond: “I’d say it was a 30-year-old Fine indifferently blended, sir…with an overdose of Bons Bois.”

M: “Colonel Smithers is giving the lecture, 007.”

Now first of all, that is clearly not what the Governor of the Bank of England looks like. As readers of this blog already know, he looks like this:

That scene is also notable for including a brief discussion of how the relative value of gold held at the US and British central banks at the time was used “to establish respectively the true value of the dollar and the pound”. In 1964 this would have been via the London Gold Pool, running between 1961 and 1968, by which a group of eight central banks including the United States Fed and the Bank of England agreed to cooperate in maintaining the Bretton Woods System of fixed-rate convertible currencies and defending the gold price. Ian Fleming’s book, written in 1959, predated this arrangement, but the anxieties about the gold market which led to its creation would have been very much around. So we still have the Governor (meeting Bond alone rather than with M) saying (during a lecture which went on for 10 pages):

We can only tell what the true strength of the pound is, and other countries can only tell it, by knowing the amount of valuta we have behind our currency.

Valuta is a rare word, from American English, for the value of one currency in terms of its exchange rate with another, and perhaps an odd one for the Governor of the Bank of England to use. But it is clear that Bond is sent after Goldfinger primarily for economic reasons (finding a way to smuggle large amounts of gold across borders threatens the Bank of England’s cosy little gold club) rather than because (spoiler alert) Goldfinger thinks nothing of murdering people (quite a lot of people in the case of Operation Grand Slam) who get in his way, cheating at golf, employing butlers with lethal bowlers, slicing through things with gold lasers and planting nuclear devices in Fort Knox. Released shortly after Ian Fleming’s death, it was the last Bond movie he saw in production.

It is the same film in which Bond obsesses about getting his favourite champagne (Dom Perignon 1953 – Bond was also someone not afraid to hit his expense account pretty hard from time to time) chilled to 38°F (3.3°C) before he gets bashed on the back of the head and the girl he is with (Goldfinger’s assistant, Jill Masterson, played by Shirley Eaton) gets sprayed from head to toe with gold paint. Perhaps more than any other brand, Bond linked luxury and high octane liquids of various kinds.

Skip forward a few decades and some of it has clearly stopped being something to drink at all, but instead a, very fragile, status asset for the very rich to demonstrate their status to each other. Here are the top prices achieved by wine at auction from one website, 8 of the 10 of them pre-dating both me and Goldfinger:

Source: vinovest https://www.vinovest.co/blog/25-most-expensive-wines-in-the-world-2026

Contrast this with the way we have treated fossil fuels. As Luke Kemp points out in Goliath’s Curse:

We tend to forget that fossil fuels come primarily from long-dead plants and animals. These organisms died between 360 and 286 million years ago during the Carboniferous period, after capturing sunlight through photosynthesis or other means. It is that fossilised energy that we are consuming. According to one estimate, it would take 400 years of global photosynthesis to power the modern world for one year. It takes ninety-eight tons of organic matter buried during the Carboniferous to become just five litres of petrol. We are now a high-energy Goliath, powered by dead matter.

According to a petrol price checker from earlier this week, the garage closest to me currently sells unleaded petrol for £1.29 a litre. So 98 tones of organic matter curated for 300 million years retails for £6.45. That’s less than half the price of a sausage bap and a coffee from Costa via UberEats:

But apparently it’s still not cheap enough.

Most of the content from this article recommending eternal vigilance despite the cheapest prices for 5 years and the claims that “petrol is still 6p too high at the pumps” comes from Howard Cox, founder of FairFuelUK. Whose website includes this picture with a not-too-presumptious-claim-at-all below it:

Even if you weren’t concerned with climate change or the health effects of petrol fumes in the air, this seems like a strange hill for anyone to be dying on. And dying we are. According to the 2025 Global Report of the Lancet Countdown average global heat-related mortality has now reached 546,000 pa, up 63% in just over 20 years:

And that’s just heat. A recent report from the Royal College of Physicians: A Breath of Fresh Air estimated 30,000 deaths from air pollution each year, of which car emissions form an important component.

By the time even the Bond franchise had started worrying about environmental concerns in 2008 with Quantum of Solace, a Somerset Maughamish short story converted into an attempt by a sinister organisation to become the water monopoly in Bolivia through underhand means, the iconic shot of the woman covered in gold had become a female consular employee (Strawberry Fields, played by Gemma Arterton) drowned in oil:

Source; http://007magazine.co.uk/factfiles/factfiles_trivia5.htm

We currently pay between £3.12 and £7.09 per litre in duty on wine, depending on strength, and £0.53 per litre in duty on petrol.

Our attitude to different types of high octane liquids has clearly been nuts in all kinds of ways for a long time. But it is just part of our political frostbite at the moment: we allow our living organisations and institutions to remain frozen in time because we have always done things that way, regardless of the living tissue we are killing in the process. From the endless cycle of public inquiries and ignored recommendations to our use of economics to rationalise things we have already decided to do to batting on with traditional exams: it seems we are just going to do what we are going to do. And freezing fuel duty now looks like it needs to be added to that list.

We can laugh at Trump for accepting an award of “undisputed champion of beautiful clean coal” by the Washington Coal Club and legislating that black is now white by revoking the Environmental Protection Agency’s scientific ruling from 2009 about the harms of climate change. But Trump does at least think he needs a reason to support the fossil fuel industry, even if he needs to make one up. We are just doing it because our politics has gangrene.

In ordering #5, self-driving cars will happily drive you around, but if you tell them to drive to a car dealership, they just lock the doors and politely ask how long humans take to starve to death. Source: https://m.xkcd.com/1613/

To be read to the soundtrack of Bruce Springsteen singing Streets of Minneapolis.

My attention was drawn this week to an article by Dario Amodei, co-founder of Anthropic (a spin off from OpenAI, which was co-founded by Elon Musk and heavily invested in by Microsoft so very much part of the Magnificent 7 architecture), the creator of the large language model Claude, called The Adolescence of Technology. It is hard to overemphasise how much I disagree with everything Dario has written here, but also useful in that it is a long article, which covers a lot of ground, and allows me to define my views in opposition to it.

The irritations start pretty much straight away. So Dario quotes from a science fiction classic (Carl Sagan’s First Contact), but then follows this up under the heading of “Avoid doomerism” with this:

…but it’s my impression that during the peak of worries about AI risk in 2023–2024, some of the least sensible voices rose to the top, often through sensationalistic social media accounts. These voices used off-putting language reminiscent of religion or science fiction, and called for extreme actions without having the evidence that would justify them.

Notice the word “sensible” doing the heavy lifting there. Only science fiction endorsed by Dario will be considered. Dario wants us to consider the risks of AI in “a careful and well-considered manner”, which sounds reasonable, but then his 3rd and final bullet under this (after “avoid doomerism” and “acknowledge uncertainty”) goes as follows:

Intervene as surgically as possible. Addressing the risks of AI will require a mix of voluntary actions taken by companies (and private third-party actors) and actions taken by governments that bind everyone. The voluntary actions—both taking them and encouraging other companies to follow suit—are a no-brainer for me. I firmly believe that government actions will also be required to some extent, but these interventions are different in character because they can potentially destroy economic value or coerce unwilling actors who are skeptical of these risks (and there is some chance they are right!).

So reflexively anti regulation of his own industry, of course. And voluntary actions by corporations, an approach to solving problems which has been demonstrated not to work repeatedly, is apparently “a no-brainer”. Also it is automatically assumed that government actions will destroy value. Only market solutions will be endorsed by Dario, pretty much until they have messed up so badly you are forced to bring governments in:

To be clear, I think there’s a decent chance we eventually reach a point where much more significant action is warranted, but that will depend on stronger evidence of imminent, concrete danger than we have today, as well as enough specificity about the danger to formulate rules that have a chance of addressing it. The most constructive thing we can do today is advocate for limited rules while we learn whether or not there is evidence to support stronger ones.

There is then the expected sales pitch about what he has seen within Anthropic about the relentless “increase in AI’s cognitive capabilities”. And then the man who warned about sensationalist science fiction is off:

I think the best way to get a handle on the risks of AI is to ask the following question: suppose a literal “country of geniuses” were to materialize somewhere in the world in ~2027. Imagine, say, 50 million people, all of whom are much more capable than any Nobel Prize winner, statesman, or technologist.

And the rest of the article is then off solving this imaginary problem in all its facets, rather than the wealth and power concentration problem that we actually have. The only legislation he seems to be in favour of seems to be something called “transparency legislation”, legislation which of course Anthropic would help to write.

However, after suggesting everything from isolating China and using “AI to empower democracies to resist autocracies” to private philanthropy as the solutions to his imagined problems, Dario finally and reluctantly concludes government intervention might after all be necessary as follows:

…ultimately a macroeconomic problem this large will require government intervention. The natural policy response to an enormous economic pie coupled with high inequality (due to a lack of jobs, or poorly paid jobs, for many) is progressive taxation. The tax could be general or could be targeted against AI companies in particular. Obviously tax design is complicated, and there are many ways for it to go wrong. I don’t support poorly designed tax policies. I think the extreme levels of inequality predicted in this essay justify a more robust tax policy on basic moral grounds, but I can also make a pragmatic argument to the world’s billionaires that it’s in their interest to support a good version of it: if they don’t support a good version, they’ll inevitably get a bad version designed by a mob.

That, by the way, is what Dario thinks of democracy: “a bad version designed by a mob” rather than the “good version” that he and his fellow billionaires could come up with in their own self interest. The mask has really slipped by this point. And the following section, on “Economic concentration of power”, just demonstrates that he has no effective answers at all that he deems acceptable on this. It’s just an inevitability for him.

This is what Luke Kemp’s excellent Goliath’s Curse refers to as a “Silicon Goliath”. Goliaths are dominance hierarchies which spread by dominating the areas around them. They need three conditions (which Luke calls “Goliath fuel”): lootable resources (ie resources which can be easily stolen off someone else), caged land (ie land difficult to escape from) and monopolizable weapons (ie ones which require processes which can be developed to give one society an edge over another). We are all Goliath-dwellers in “The West” now, looting resources from other countries in unequal exchanges which impoverish the Global South, with weapons (eg nuclear weapons) available only to the elite few countries and operating within the cages of heavily-policed national boundaries. The Silicon Goliath which is developing will have data as its lootable resource, mass surveillance systems providing its cages and monopolizable weapons such as killer drones. The resultant killbot hellscapes which people like Dario Amodei laughably imagine they have defences against through things like their Claude’s Constitution are almost pitiful in their inadequacy.

Nate Hagens takes Dario’s claims for AI’s cognitive capabilities much more seriously than me, and then considers the risks in a less adolescent way here. As he says:

And here’s what his essay has almost nothing about. Energy, water, materials, or ecological limits.

And also nowhere does Dario talk about the 99% of people who are just spectators in his world, other than to describe them as “the mob”. This is quite a blind spot, as Luke Kemp points out in his exhaustive study of the collapses of “Goliaths” over the last 5,000 years. “The extreme levels of inequality” predicted by Amodei in his essay are not just things we have to put up with, but the reasons the world he predicts is likely to be hugely unstable. Not created by AI, but accelerated by it. Kemp describes it as “diminishing returns on extraction”:

We see a pattern re-emerging across case studies. Societies grow more fragile over time and more prone to collapse. Threats that they had always faced such as invaders, disease and drought seem to take a heavier toll.

As societies grew bigger:

They still faced the underlying (and ongoing) problem of rising inequality creating societies where and institutions more extractive power was more concentrated.

And eventually:

The result is more extractive institutions creating growing instability, internal conflict, a drain of resources away from government, state capture by private elites, and worse decision-making. Society – especially the state – becomes more fragile. Private elites tend to take a larger share of extractive benefits. The state, and many of the power structures it helps prop up, then usually falls apart once a shock hits: for Rome it was climate change, disease, and rebelling Germanic mercenaries; for China it was often floods, droughts, disease and horseback raiders; for the west African kingdoms it was invaders and a loss of trade; for the Maya it was drought and a loss of trade; and for the Bronze Age it was drought, a disruption of trade and an earthquake storm.

The only real answer to combatting existential risks in the hands of adolescents like the Tech Bros is more democracy: over control of decision-making, over control of resources, over control of the threat of violence and over control of information. We are a long way from achieving these within our own particular Goliath at the moment, and indeed there is no sign at all that our elites are interested in achieving them. The Magnificent 7 are propping up the US stock exchange. The promise of perpetual economic growth is the progress myth of our time and leaders who do not provide it will lose the “Mandate of Heaven” in just the same way as Chinese rulers did when they were unable to prevent floods and droughts. Adam Tooze sees the signs of the inner demons of our elites starting to detach them from reality in the latest disclosures from the Epstein files:

Are we, like [Larry] Summers, fantasizing about stabilizing our desires and needs in an inherently dangerous and uncertain world? Are we kidding ourselves?

But, without those controls in place, we would need a lot more than Dario’s Anthropic playing nicely to allow this particular adolescent to grow up. And this is where I am forced to take Nate Hagens’ assessment more seriously. Because if our rulers’ Mandates of Heaven are dependent on eternal economic growth on their watch and they, rightly, think that this is not possible in our current non-AI-enhanced world but, wrongly, think it is possible in a future AI-enhanced world, then that is the way they are going to demand we go. And, if the Larry Summers fantasists really are kidding themselves, it may be very hard to talk them out of it.

Things have been moving quickly after weeks of just listening to Trump. Last week it was Davos and the other world leaders suddenly had something to say. Carlo Iacono rather neatly skewered them in advance with his Snow Globe of the Reasonable piece. As he says:

I keep returning to a phrase from the coverage: “globalization triage.” It captures something true. The old story, the one that said integration and openness would lift all boats, has been bleeding out for years. What is happening at Davos is not a recommitment to that story. It is an attempt to stabilise the patient long enough to extract remaining value before the next configuration emerges. The conversations about chips and data centres and export controls are not about innovation in any innocent sense. They are about who will control the commanding heights of the next economy, and the language of cooperation is the anaesthetic administered while the surgery proceeds.

And then, lo and behold, was Mark Carney, equally at home leading central bankers in 2008, appearing in thick jumpers on election night in Canada and now presenting Canada to the WEF as the enlightened way forward in the wake of Trump, without mentioning him once. He signalled Canada’s break with the rules-based order with a story told by Vaclav Havel about a greengrocer who put out a sign saying “Workers of the world unite” without believing a word of it. He says:

The system’s power comes not from its truth, but from everyone’s willingness to perform as if it were true, and its fragility comes from the same source. When even one person stops performing, when the greengrocer removes his sign, the illusion begins to crack. Friends, it is time for companies and countries to take their signs down.

He argued against the impulse for every country to look after itself, while finding it understandable:

A country that can’t feed itself, fuel itself or defend itself, has few options. When the rules no longer protect you, you must protect yourself.

Instead he argued for what he calls “variable geometry”:

…different coalitions for different issues based on common values and interests.

And in what, for me, was the most eye-catching part:

We are taking the sign out of the window. We know the old order is not coming back. We shouldn’t mourn it. Nostalgia is not a strategy, but we believe that from the fracture, we can build something bigger, better, stronger, more just. This is the task of the middle powers, the countries that have the most to lose from a world of fortresses and most to gain from genuine cooperation.

This was Carney staking a claim to leadership in a world working around the United States. And he sounds so reasonable within his snow globe that you can almost forget the impact of his last attempt at global leadership. Ann Pettifor, in her excellent review of the 2008 crisis 10 years after and its aftermath, quoted Professor Vogl of Princeton University:

the crisis has proved itself as a way to solidify the existing economic order…One can thus argue that the financial and economic state of emergency in recent years has given rise to …action that resembles a continuous coup d’Etat.” (INET Berlin, 2012.)

And as Iacono concluded his article:

The room in Davos is warm. The rooms beyond it are getting colder. The spirit of dialogue, whatever it once meant, now means the management of decline through the performance of concern. This is not a conspiracy. It is an emergent property of a system that has learned to stabilise itself by absorbing its critics and converting their language into its own. The only dialogue that would matter is the one that questions the room itself. That conversation is not scheduled.

The solutions proposed from within the Snow Globe will always sound measured and reasonable. The actors were mainly polished and impressive, all the better to contrast with the ramblings of Trump. The lines were well known. After all, as Samuel Miller McDonald’s Progress tells us, they have been delivered in one form or another for 5,000 years, when Mesopotamian cities came together to form the world’ first empires. McDonald describes the new approach as “parasitic energy capture”, both concrete in terms of resources required to survive and abstract in terms of the power structures within these new types of societies. As McDonald notes:

When the limits to their extraction of resources are exceeded, the parasitic systems must either suffer a crash or must invade and take the energy of a more distant ecology or society.

This type of parasitism was both justified and celebrated by the progress myths which accompanied each society: The Epic of Gilgamesh for the Babylonians, Zoroastrianism for the ancient Iranian kingdoms and empires, the creation myth of Judaism where, as McDonald puts it:

The book of Genesis provides the theological basis for dominion, but it also contains the promise of progress, which takes the shape of frontiers, or living space set aside for God’s chosen people, to be found in new land.

And on to the Greeks, with Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian Wars seeing Athenian civilisation as the pinnacle of human achievements. Sure enough, Carney was quoting him last week:

Right, as the world goes, is only in question between equals in power, while the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.

Then on to the Roman Empire, legitimised by Virgil’s Aeneid, in which Jupiter says:

To the Romans I assign limits neither to the extent nor to the duration of their empire; dominion have I given them without end.

Then Rome embraced Christianity, with Constantine reasoning, according to McDonald, “that a monotheistic empire would be more effective at both unity and continued expansion than a more pluralistic or polytheistic one”.

Alongside Christianity, a new progress narrative was born in the 7th century to power an Islamic empire. As McDonald says:

Perhaps more than any that came before, the Islamic society that arose during this period mixed mythic forms of the progress narrative formula with secular ideas…that presaged those that would follow in the European Enlightenment.

And of course the European Enlightenment followed the expansion of parasitism from around 1400 from “a primarily regional, contiguous form to a global, disparate form”. As McDonald goes on to say:

This change was made possible first by the large oceanic vessels that could move goods, weapons, messages and colonists rapidly across large waterways, and then again by the deployment of fossilised energy in machines that could speed up extraction, communication, transportation and manufacturing even more.

What we are talking about here is global capitalism. And this brings me to one of the great mysteries, often referred to by Steve Keen, which I think I now have an answer to, of why economists have failed to properly incorporate the role of energy in production for so long. If mainstream economics now performs the role of the progress narratives of the past in justifying our continued parasitic expansion beyond all boundaries in pursuit of economic growth (which is now even acknowledged in official UK government documents like this one), then it needs to hide the role of parasitic energy capture from us in order to keep us doing it.

Which brings us back to the Snow Globe. I will leave the last word to Carlo Iacono:

The problems are structural, and I am not in a position to restructure them. The powerful will keep meeting, and the meetings will keep producing the facsimile of progress that forestalls the real thing. What I can do, what any of us can do, is refuse to be fooled by the snow globe. To name what is happening even when the naming has no immediate effect. To remember that legitimacy is not conferred by eloquence or venue, that a room full of billionaires discussing inequality is not the same as addressing inequality, that dialogue without the possibility of transformation is just noise arranged pleasingly.

I have spent many days in rooms with groups of men (always men) anxious about their future income, where I advised them on how much to ask their companies for. Most of my clients as a scheme actuary were trustees of pension schemes of companies which had seen better days, and who were struggling to make the necessary payments to secure the benefits already promised, let alone those to come. One by one, those schemes stopped offering those future benefits and just concentrated on meeting the bill for benefits already promised. If an opportunity came to buy those benefits out with an insurance company (which normally cost quite a bit more than the kind of “technical provisions” target the Pensions Regulator would accept), I lobbied hard to get it to happen. In many cases we were too late though, the company went bust and we moved it into the Pension Protection Fund instead. That was the life of a pensions actuary in the West Midlands in the noughties. I was often “Mr Good News” in those meetings, the ironic reference to the man constantly moving the goalposts for how much money the scheme needed to meet those benefits bills. I saw my role as pushing the companies to buy out funding if at all possible. None of the schemes I advised had a company behind them which could sustain ongoing pension costs long term. I would listen to the wishful thinking and the corporate optimism, smile and push for the “realistic” option of working towards buy out.

Then I went to work at a university, and found myself, for the first time since 2003, a member of an open defined benefit pension scheme. It was (and still is) a generous scheme, but was constantly complained about by the university lecturers who comprised most of its membership. I didn’t see any way that it was affordable for employers which seemed to struggle to employ enough lecturers, were very reluctant to award anything other than fixed term contracts, and had an almost feudal relationship with their PhD students and post docs. Staff went on strike about plans to close the scheme to future accrual and replace it with the most generous money purchase scheme I had ever seen. I demurred and wrote an article called Why I Won’t Strike. I watched in wonder when even actuarial lecturers at other universities enthusiastically supported the strike. However, over 10 years later, that scheme – the UK’s biggest – is still open. And I gained personally from continued active membership until 2024.

Now don’t get me wrong, I still think the UK university sector is wrong to maintain, unique amongst its peers, a defined benefit scheme. The funding requirement for it has been inflated by continued accrual over the last 8 years and therefore so has the risk it will spike at just the time when it is least affordable, a time which may soon be approaching with 45% of universities already reporting deficits. However the strike demonstrated how important the pension scheme was to staff, something the constant grumbling before the strike had led university managers to doubt. And, once the decision had been made to keep the scheme open to future accrual, I had no more to add as an actuary. Other actuaries had the responsibility for advising on funding, in fact quite a lot of others as the UCU was getting its own actuarial advice alongside that the USS was getting, but my involvement was now just that of a member, just one with a heightened awareness of the risks the employers were taking.

The reason I bring this up is because I detected something of the same position as my lonely one from the noughties amongst the group of actuaries involved in the latest joint report from the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries and the University of Exeter about the fight to maintain planetary climate solvency.

It very neatly sets out the problem, that the whole system of climate modelling and policy recommendations to date has been almost certainly underestimating how much warming is likely to result from a given increase in the level of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. Therefore all the “carbon budgets” (amount we can emit before we hit particular temperature levels) have been assumed to be higher than they actually are and estimates for when we exhaust them have given us longer than we actually have. This is due to the masking effects of particulate pollution in the air, which has resulted in around 0.5C less warming than we would otherwise have had by now. However, efforts to remove sulphur from oil and coal fuels (themselves important for human health) have acted to reduce this aerosol cooling effect. The goalposts have moved.

An additional reference I would add to the excellent references in the report is Hansen’s Seeing the Forest for the Trees, which concisely summarises all the evidence to suggest the generally accepted range for climate sensitivity is too low.

So far, so “Mr Good News”. And for those who say this is not something actuaries should be doing because they are not climate experts, this is exactly what actuaries have always done. We started the profession by advising on the intersection between money and mortality, despite not being experts in any of the conditions which affected either the buying power of money or the conditions which affected people’s mortality. We could however use statistics to indicate how things were likely to go in general, and early instances of governments wasting quite a lot of money without a steer from people who understood statistics got us that gig, and a succession of other related gigs over the years ahead.

The difficult bit is always deciding what course of action you want to encourage once you have done the analysis. This was much easier in pensions, as there was a regulatory framework to work to. It is much harder when, as in this case, it involves proposing changes in behaviour which are ingrained into our societies. If university lecturers can oppose something that is clearly not in the long term financial interests of their employers and push for something which makes their individual employers less secure, then how much more will the general public resist change when they can see no good reason for it.

And in this regard this feels like a report mostly focused on the finance industry. The analogies it makes with the 2008 financial crash, constant comparisons with the solvency regulatory regimes of insurers in particular and even the framing of the need to mitigate climate change in order to support economic growth are all couched in terms familiar to people working in the finance sector. This has, perhaps predictably, meant that the press coverage to date has mostly been concentrated in the pension, insurance and investment areas:

However in the case of the 2008 crash, the causes were able to be addressed by restricting practices amongst the financial institutions which had just been bailed out and were therefore in no position to argue. Many of those restrictions have been loosened since, and I think many amongst the general public would question whether the decision to bail out the banks and impose austerity on everyone else is really a model to follow for other crises.

The next stage will therefore need to involve breaking out of the finance sector to communicate the message more widely, perhaps focusing on the first point in the proposed Recovery Plan: developing a different mindset. As the report says:

This challenge demands a shift in perspective, recognising that humanity is not separate from nature but embedded in it, reliant on it and, furthermore, now required to actively steward the Earth system.
To maintain Planetary Solvency, we need to put in place mechanisms to ensure our social, economic, and political systems respect the planet’s biophysical limits, thus preserving or restoring sufficient natural capital for future generations to continue receiving ecosystem services…

…The prevailing economic system is a risk driver and requires reform, as economic dependency on nature is unrecognised in dominant economic theory which incorrectly assumes that natural capital is substitutable by manufactured capital. A particular barrier to climate action has been lobbying from incumbents and misinformation which has contributed to slower than required policy implementation.

By which I assume they mean this type of lobbying:

And this is where it gets very difficult, because actuaries really do not have anything to add at this point. We are just citizens with no particular expertise about how to proceed, just a heightened awareness of the dangers we are facing if we don’t act.

But we can also, as the report does, point out that we still have agency:

Although this is daunting, it means we have agency – we can choose to manage human activity to minimise the risk of societal disruption from the loss of critical support services from nature.

This point chimes with something else I have been reading recently (and which I will be writing more about in the coming weeks): Samuel Miller McDonald’s Progress. As he says “never before have so many lives, human and otherwise, depended on the decisions of human beings in this moment of history”. You may argue the toss on that with me, which is fine, but, in view of the other things you may be scrolling through either side of reading this, how about this for a paragraph putting the whole question of when to change how we do things in context:

We are caught in a difficult trap. If everything that is familiar is torn down and all the structures that govern our day-to-day disintegrated, we risk terrible disorder. We court famines and wars. We invite power vacuums to be filled by even more brutal psychopaths than those who haunt the halls of power now. But if we don’t, if we continue on the current path and simply follow inertia, there is a good chance that the outcome will be far worse than the disruption of upending everything today. Maintaining status-quo trajectories in carbon emissions, habitat destruction and pollution, there is a high likelihood of collapse in the existing structure anyway. It will just occur under far worse ecological conditions than if it were to happen sooner, in a more controlled way. At least, that is what all the best science suggests. To believe otherwise requires rejecting science and knowledge itself, which some find to be a worthwhile trade-off. But reality can only be denied for so long. Dream at night we may, the day will ensnare us anyway.

One thing I never did in one of those rooms full of anxious men was to stand up and loudly denounce the pensions system we were all working within. Actuaries do not behave like that generally. However we have a senior group of actuaries, with the endorsement of their profession, publishing a report that says things like this (bold emphasis added by me):

Planetary Solvency is threatened and a recovery plan is needed: a fundamental, policy-led change of direction, informed by realistic risk assessments that recognise our current market-led approach is failing, accompanied by an action plan that considers broad, radical and effective options.

This is not a normal situation. We should act accordingly.

So this is my 42nd blog post of the year and the 8th where I have referenced Cory Doctorow. Thought it was more to be honest, so influential has he been on my thought, particularly as I have delved deeper into what, how and why the AI Rush is proceeding and what it means for the people exiting universities over the next few years.

Yesterday Cory published a reminder of his book reviews this year. He is an amazing book reviewer. There are 24 on the list this year, and I want to read every one of them on the strength of his reviews alone.

I would like to repay the compliment by reviewing his latest book: Enshittification (the other publication this year – Picks and Shovels – is also well worth your time by the way). Can’t believe this wasn’t the word of the year rather than rage bait, as it explains considerably more about the times we are living in.

I have been a fan of Doctorow for a couple of years now. I had had Walkaway sat on my shelves for a few years before I read it and was immediately enthralled by his tale of a post scarcity future which had still somehow descended into an inter-generational power struggle hellscape. I moved on to the Little Brother books, now being reenacted by Trump with his ICE force in one major US city after another. Followed those up with The Lost Cause, where the teenagers try desperately to bridge the gap across the generations with MAGA people, with tragic results along the way but a grim determination at the end “the surest way to lose is to stop running”. From there I migrated to the Marty Hench thrillers, his non-fiction The Internet Con (which details the argument for interoperability, ie the ability of any platform to interact with another) and his short fiction (I loved Radicalised, not just for the grimly prophetic Radicalised novella in the collection, but also the gleeful insanity of Unauthorised Bread). I highly recommend them all.

I came to Enshittification after reading his Pluralistic blog most days for the last year and a half, so was initially disappointed to find very little new as I started working my way through it. However what the first two parts – The Natural History and The Pathology – are is a patient explanation of the concept of enshittification and how it operates assuming no previous engagement with the term, all in one place.

Enshittifcation, as defined by Cory Doctorow, proceeds as follows:

  1. First, platforms are good to their users.
  2. Then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers.
  3. Next, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves.
  4. Finally, they have become a giant pile of shit.

So far, so familiar. But then I got to Part Three, explaining The Epidemiology of enshittification, and the book took off for me. The erosion of antitrust (what we would call competition) law since Carter. “Antitrust’s Vietnam” (how Robert Bork described the 12 years IBM fought and outspent the US Department of Justice year after year defending their monopolisation case) until Reagan became President. How this led to an opening to develop the operating system for IBM when it entered the personal computer market. How this led to Microsoft, etc. Then how the death of competition also killed Big Tech regulation ( regulating a competitive market which acts against collusion is much easier than regulating one with a small number of big players which absolutely will collude with each other).

And then we get to my favourite chapter of the book “Reverse-Centaurs and Chickenisation”. Any regular reader of this blog will already be familiar with what a reverse centaur is, although Cory has developed a snappy definition in the process of writing this book:

A reverse-centaur is a machine that uses a human to accomplish more than the machine could manage on its own.

And if that isn’t chilling enough for you, the description of the practices of poultry packers and how they control the lives of the nominally self-employed chicken farmers of the US, and how these have now been exported to companies like Amazon and Arise and Uber, should certainly be. The prankster who collected up the bottled piss of the Amazon drivers who weren’t allowed a loo break and resold it on Amazon‘s own platform as “a bitter lemon drink” called Release Energy, which Amazon then recategorised as a beverage without asking for any documentation to prove it was fit to drink and then, when it was so successful it topped their sales chart, rang the prankster up to discuss using Amazon for shipping and fulfillment – this was a rare moment of hilarity in a generally sordid tale of utter exploitation. My favourite bit is when he gets on to the production of his own digital rights management (DRM) free audio versions of his own books.

The central point of the DRM issue is, as Cory puts it, “how perverse DMCA 1201 is”:

If I, as the author, narrator, and investor in an audiobook, allow Amazon to sell you that book and later want to provide you with a tool so you can take your book to a rival platform, I will be committing a felony punishable by a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine.

To put this in perspective: If you were to simply locate this book on a pirate torrent site and download it without paying for it, your penalty under copyright law is substantially less punitive than the penalty I would face for helping you remove the audiobook I made from Amazon’s walled garden. What’s more, if you were to visit a truck stop and shoplift my audiobook on CD from a spinner rack, you would face a significantly lighter penalty for stealing a physical item than I would for providing you with the means to take a copyrighted work that I created and financed out of the Amazon ecosystem. Finally, if you were to hijack the truck that delivers that CD to the truck stop and steal an entire fifty-three-foot trailer full of audiobooks, you would likely face a shorter prison sentence than I would for helping you break the DRM on a title I own.

DMCA1201 is the big break on interoperability. It is the reason, if you have a HP printer, you have to pay $10,000 a gallon for ink or risk committing a criminal offence by “circumventing an access control” (which is the software HP have installed on their printers to stop you using anyone else’s printer cartridges). And the reason for the increasing insistence on computer chips in everything from toasters (see “Unauthorised Bread” for where this could lead) to wheelchairs – so that using them in ways the manufacturer and its shareholders disapprove of becomes illegal.

The one last bastion against enshittification by Big Tech was the tech workers themselves. Then the US tech sector laid off 260,000 workers in 2023 and a further 100,000 in the first half of 2024.

In case you are feeling a little depressed (and hopefully very angry too) at this stage, Part 4 is called The Cure. This details the four forces that can discipline Big Tech and how they can all be revived, namely:

  1. Competition
  2. Regulation
  3. Interoperability
  4. Tech worker power

As Cory concludes the book:

Martin Luther King Jr once said, “It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, but it can stop him lynching me, and I think that’s pretty important, also.”

And it may be true that the law can’t force corporate sociopaths to conceive of you as a human being entitled to dignity and fair treatment, and not just an ambulatory wallet, a supply of gut bacteria for the immortal colony organism that is a limited liability corporation.

But it can make that exec fear you enough to treat you fairly and afford you dignity, even if he doesn’t think you deserve it.

And I think that’s pretty important.

I was reading Enshittification on the train journey back from Hereford after visiting the Hay Winter Weekend, where I had listened to, amongst others, the oh-I’m-totally-not-working-for-Meta-any-more-but-somehow-haven’t-got-a-single-critical-word-to-say-about-them former Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg. While I was on the train, a man across the aisle had taken the decision to conduct a conversation with first Google and then Apple on speaker phone. A particular highlight was him just shouting “no, no, no!” at Google‘s bot trying to give him options. He had already been to the Vodaphone shop that morning and was on his way to an appointment which he couldn’t get at the Apple Store on New Street in Birmingham. He spotted the title of my book and, when I told him what enshittification meant, and how it might make some sense out of the predicament he found himself in, took a photo of the cover.

My feeling is that enshittification goes beyond Big Tech. It is the defining industrial battle of our times. We shouldn’t primarily worry about whether it is coming from the private or the public sector, as enshittification can happen in both places: from hollowing out justice to “paying more for medicines… at the exact moment we can’t afford to pay enough doctors to prescribe them” in the public sector, where we already reside within the Government’s walled garden, to all of the outrages mentioned above and more in the private sector.

The PFI local health hubs set out in last week’s budget take us back to perhaps the ultimate enshittificatory contracts the Government ever entered into, certainly before the pandemic. The Government got locked into 40 year contracts, took all the risk, and all the profit was privatised. The turbo-charging of the original PFI came out of the Blair-Brown government’s mania for keeping capital spending off the balance sheet in defence of Gordon Brown’s “Golden Rule” which has now been replaced by Rachel Reeves’ equally enshittifying fiscal rules. All the profits (or, increasingly, rents, as Doctorow discusses in the chapter on Varoufakis’ concept of Technofeudalism) from turning the offer to shit always seem to end up in the private sector. The battle is against enshittification from both private and, by proxy, via public monopolies.

Enshittification is, ultimately, a positive and empowering book which I strongly recommend you buy, avoiding Amazon if you can. We can have a better internet than this. We can strike a better deal with Big Tech over how we run our lives. But the surest way to lose is to stop running.

And next time a dead-eyed Amazon driver turns up at your door, be nice, they are probably having a worse day than you are.

On 20 November, the UK Covid-19 Inquiry published its second report and recommendations following its investigation into ‘Core decision-making and political governance’. The following day these were the headlines:

This contrasts with the Inquiry’s first report and recommendations following its investigation into the UK’s ‘Resilience and preparedness (Module 1)’ on Thursday 18 July 2024. Then the following day’s headlines looked like this:

Whereas the first report had recommended a radical simplification of the civil emergency preparedness and resilience systems, including:

  • A new approach to risk assessment;
  • A new UK-wide approach to the development of strategy, which learns lessons from the past;
  • Better systems of data collection and sharing in advance of future pandemics;
  • Holding a UK-wide pandemic response exercise at least every three years and publishing the outcome; and
  • The creation of a single, independent statutory body responsible for whole system preparedness and response.

The second report on the other hand merely reran the pandemic, pointing out where we went wrong on:

  • The emergence of Covid-19;
  • The first UK-wide lockdown;
  • Exiting the first lockdown;
  • The second wave; and
  • The vaccination rollout and Delta and Omicron variants.

And crucially who to blame for it. Its recommendations were far less specific and actionable in my view than those from the first report. And yet it got all the headlines, with glowering images of Baroness Hallett and pictures of Boris Johnson with head bowed.

The first report dealt with what we could do better next time and was virtually ignored (only The Daily Mirror and The Independent carried “They failed us all” headlines about the Covid Inquiry first report). The second dealt with who to blame and it dominated the headlines. I think this neatly encapsulates what is wrong with us as a country and why we never seem to be able to learn from our own past mistakes or the examples of other countries.

This is not about defending Boris Johnson or any of his ministers. It is about realising that they are much less important than our own ability to sort out our problems and study any evidence we can to help us do that.

The NHS suffers from the same problem, as Roy Lilley has described here, too many inquiries and most of their recommendations ignored. Again and again and again. We choose to focus on the minor and irrelevant at the expenses of the major and important. Again and again and again. As Lilley says:

Until we make it OK for people to say… I made a mistake… we will forever be trapped in a Kafka world of inquiries coming to the same conclusions…

…If inquiries worked, we’d have the safest healthcare system in the world. 

Instead, we have a system addicted to investigating itself and forgetting the answers.

It is part of a pattern repeated yesterday, focusing on the micro when our problems are macro. Rachel Reeves increased taxes by £26 billion in yesterday’s budget, which was much less than the £40 billion in her first budget, and yet still led to the BBC reporting “Reeves chooses to tax big and spend big” and the FT leading with “Rachel Reeves’ Budget raises UK tax take to all-time high“, and with this graph:

This is hilariously at odds with the message of what it was reporting last week:

The latter was obviously an attempt to head off a wealth tax, which appears to have been largely successful. Our averageness when it comes to tax, though, is supported by this graph using OECD data from Tax Policy Associates:

Our position in the middle of the pack will be little affected by what happened yesterday. And that and all the chatter about the OBR leaking it all an hour in advance rather drowned out the fact that there was relatively little additional spending (around £12 billion overall, a quarter of which was on the welcome removal of the two-child limit). The main point was to increase our “fiscal headroom” to £22 billion, ie the amount the Government can spend before they breach their own fiscal rules.

It looks like we are going to do what we are going to do, with fiscal headroom management masquerading as economic policy, and otherwise just sit around waiting for the next disaster. Which we will then have a big inquiry about to tell us that we weren’t remotely prepared for it. Which we will then ignore…and so it continues. Again and again and again.

A couple of weeks ago I wanted to find an article I had written about heat pumps to check something. So I Googled weknow0 and heat pump. This did give me the article, from December 2022, I was after, but also an “AI overview” that I hadn’t requested. The above is what it told me.

Now this is inaccurate on a number of counts. Firstly, I have published 226 articles over the more than 12 years I have been writing on weknow0.co.uk and I have only mentioned heat pumps in two of these. These articles did focus on the points mentioned in 3 of the 4 bullet points above and in one of them I also set out how the market at the time (December 2022) was stacked against anyone acquiring a heat pump, a state of affairs which has thankfully improved considerably since. However to claim that my blog “provides a consumer-focused perspective in the practicalities and challenges of domestic heat pump adoption in the UK” is clearly hilarious.

In fact anyone seeing that would assume I talked about little other than heat pumps, so I decided to do a search on something else that I talk about infrequently and see what I got (I searched “weknow0 science fiction”):

This seems a considerably better summary of the recent activity on the blog, which is also unrecognisable as the blog summarised in response to the previous search.

Right at the end, it suggests a reason for the title of the blog which isn’t an unreasonable guess from a regular reader. But guess it still is, and it does not appear to have processed the significant number of blog posts with variants of we know zero in the title to fine tune its take.

So someone using the AI overview as a research tool would get a completely different view of what the blog was about depending upon which other word they used alongside weknow0. Perhaps that doesn’t matter too much to anyone other than me in this case, but it is part of a broader issue. It is not summarising the website it is suggesting it is summarising.

Of course many of you will now be shouting at me that I need to give the system more focused prompts. There is now a whole area of expertise, lectured in and written about at considerable length, called “prompt engineering”. There are senior professionals who have rarely given their juniors the time of day for years, giving the tersest responses to their completely reasonable queries about the barely intelligible instructions they have given for a piece of work, suddenly prepared to spend hours and hours on prompt engineering so that the Metal Mickey in their phone or laptop can give them responses closer to what they were actually looking for.

At this point, perhaps we should perhaps hear from Sundar Pichai, the Google CEO:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m002mgk1/the-interview-decisionmakers-sundar-pichai-running-the-google-empire

As part of Faisal Islam’s slightly gushing interview with Pichai, we learn that the AI overview on Google is “prone to errors” and needs to be used alongside such things as Google search. “Use them for what they are good at but don’t blindly trust them” he says of his tools which he admits to currently investing $90 billion a year in. This is of course a problem, as one of the reasons people are reluctantly resorting to the AI overview is because the basic Google search has become so enshittified.

And that kind of echoes what Cory Doctorow has said about Google. Google need to maintain a narrative about growth. You will have picked this up if you watched the Pichai interview above, from the breathless stuff about “one of the most powerful men in the world” “perhaps being one of the easier things for AI to replicate one day” to:

You don’t want to constrain an economy based on energy. That will have consequences.

To the even more breathless stuff about us being 5 years from quantum computing being where generative AI is now.

The reason for all the growth talk, according to Doctorow, is that Google needs to be growing for it to be able to maintain a price earnings ratio of 20 to 1, rather than the more typical 4 to 1 of a mature business. So it’s all about the share price. As Doctorow says:

Which is why Google is so desperately sweaty to maintain the narrative about its growth. That’s a difficult narrative to maintain, though. Google has 90% Search market-share, and nothing short of raising a billion humans to maturity and training them to be Google users (AKA “Google Classroom”) will produce any growth in its Search market-share. Google is so desperate to juice its search revenue that it actually made search worse on purpose so that you would have to run multiple searches (and see multiple rounds of ads) before you got the information you were seeking.

Investors have metabolized the story that AI will be a gigantic growth area, and so all the tech giants are in a battle to prove to investors that they will dominate AI as they dominated their own niches. You aren’t the target for AI, investors are: if they can be convinced that Google’s 90% Search market share will soon be joined by a 90% AI market share, they will continue to treat this decidedly tired and run-down company like a prize racehorse at the starting-gate.

This is why you are so often tricked into using AI, by accidentally grazing a part of your screen with a fingertip, summoning up a pestersome chatbot that requires six taps and ten seconds to banish: companies like Google have made their product teams’ bonuses contingent on getting normies to “use” AI and “use” is defined as “interact with AI for at least ten seconds.” Goodhart’s Law (“any metric becomes a target”) has turned every product you use into a trap for the unwary.

So here we are. AI isn’t meant for most of you, its results are “prone to errors” and need to be used alongside other corroborating material or “human validation”. It needs you to take a course in prompt engineering even if you never did the same to manage any of your human staff. It is primarily designed to persuade investors to keep the share price up to the levels the Board of Alphabet Inc have become accustomed to.

In my last post I referred to Dan Wang’s excellent new book, Breakneck, which I have now read at (for me) breakneck speed, finishing it in a week. It has made me realise how very little I knew about China.

Wang makes the point that China today is reminiscent of the US of a century ago. However he also makes the point that parts of the US were terrible to live in then: from racist segregation and lack of representation, to massive industrial pollution and insensitive planning decisions. As he says of the US:

The public soured on the idea of broad deference to US technocrats and engineers: urban planners (who were uprooting whole neighborhoods), defense officials (who were prosecuting the war in Vietnam), and industry regulators (who were cozying up to companies).

China meanwhile has a Politburo stuffed with engineers and is capable of making snap decisions without much regard to what people want. There is a sense of precarity about life there, with people treated as aggregates rather than as individuals. The country can take off in different directions very quickly and often does – there is a telling passage about the totally different life experiences of someone born in 1959 compared to someone born in 1949 (the worst year to be born in China according to Wang) – and even the elites can be dealt with brutally if they fall out of line with the current direction of travel. But they have created some impressive infrastructure, something which has become problematic for the US. Only around 10% of its GDP goes towards social spending, compared to 20% in the US and 30% amongst some European states, so there is no effective safety net. Think of the US portrayed in (as Christmas is fast approaching) “It’s a Wonderful Life” – a life that is hard to the point of brutality with destitution only one mistake away. And there is a level of social control alien to the west, controlling where people can live and work and very repressive of ethnoreligious minorities. And yet there is a feeling of progress and forward momentum which appears to be popular with most people in China.

As Wang notes at the end of his introduction:

“Breakneck” is the story of the Chinese state that yanked its people into modernity – an action rightfully envied by much of the world – using means that ran roughshod over many – an approach rightfully disdained by much of the world. It is also a reminder that the United States once knew the virtues of speed and ambitious construction.

The chapter on the one child policy, which ran for 35 years, is particularly chilling (China announced its first population fall in 2023 and its population is projected to halve to 700 million by 2100), and now the pressure is on women to have more children again. There is also a chapter on how China dealt with Covid – Wang experienced this first hand from Shanghai for 3 years – which made me understand perhaps why we wasted so much money in the UK on Track and Trace. You would need to be an engineering state to see it through successfully, and China ended up taking it too far in the end.

The economics of China is really interesting. As Wang notes:

China’s overbuilding has produced deep social, financial and environmental costs. The United States has no need to emulate it uncritically. But the Chinese experience does offer political lessons for America. China has shown that financial constraints are less binding than they are cracked up to be. As John Maynard Keynes said, “Anything we can actually do we can afford.” For an infrastructure-starved place like the United States, construction can generate long-run gains from higher economic activity that eventually surpass the immediate construction costs. And the experience of building big in underserved places is a means of redistribution that makes locals happy while satisfying fiscal conservatives who are normally skeptical of welfare payments.

This goes just as much for the UK, where pretty much everywhere outside London is infrastructure-starved (and, as Nicholas Shaxson and John Christensen show here in their written evidence to a UK Parliamentary Committee, even where infrastructure is built outside London, the financing of it sucks money away from the area where the infrastructure is being built and towards finance centres, predominantly in London), but there is also strong resistance from all the main parties to significant redistribution via the benefit system. This results in inequalities which even the FT feels moved to comment on and a map of multiple deprivation in England which looks like this:

The good news is that it doesn’t have to be this way in the UK, there are prominent examples of countries operating in a different way, eg China. The bad news is that China is not doing it because of economics. They are doing it because the state was set up to build big from the beginning. It is in its nature. The lesson of China is that it will keep doing the same things whatever the situation (eg trying to fix the population fall caused by an engineering solution with another engineering solution). Sometimes the world economy will reward their approach and sometimes it will punish it, but that will not be the primary driver for how they behave. I think this may be true of the US, the EU states and the UK too.

Daniel Kahneman showed us in Thinking Fast and Slow, how most of our mental space is used to rationalise decisions we have already taken. One of the places where I part company with Wang is in his reverence for economists. He believes that the US should listen more to both engineers and economists to challenge the lawyerly society.

In the foreword for The Principles of Economics Course from 1990 by Phillip Saunders and William Walstad, Paul Samuelson, the first person from the US to win the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences in 1970, wrote:

“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the World.” It was a poet who said that, exercising occupational license. Some sage, it may have been I, declared in similar vein: “I don’t care who writes a nation’s laws—or crafts its advanced treaties—if I can write its economic textbooks.” The first lick is the privileged one, impinging on the beginner’s tabula rasa at its most impressionable state.

My view would be that the economists are already in charge.

As a result, my fear is that economics is now used for rationalising decisions we have already made in many countries now, including our own. We are going to do what we are going to do. The economics is just the fig leaf we use to rationalise what may otherwise appear unfair, cruel, divisive and hope-denying policies. The financial constraints are less than they are cracked up to be, but they are a convenient fiction for a government which lacks any guiding principles for spending and investment otherwise and therefore fears that everyone would just be asking for more resources in its absence, and they would have no way of deciding between them.

Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl models on display in Bristol. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

I have been watching Daniel Susskind’s lectures on AI and the future of work this week: Automation Anxiety was delivered in September and The Economics of Work and Technology earlier this week. The next in the series, entitled Economics and Artificial Intelligence is scheduled for 13 January. They are all free and I highly recommend them for their great range of source material presented.

In my view the most telling graph, which featured in both lectures, was this one:

Original Source: Daniel Susskind A World Without Work

Susskind extended the usual concept of the ratio between average college and university graduate salaries to those of school leavers to include the equivalent ratio of craftsmen to labourers which then gives us data back to 1220. There are two big collapses in this ratio in the data: that following the Black Death (1346-1353), which may have killed 50% of Europe’s 14th century population, and the Industrial Revolution (which slow singularity started around 1760 and then took us through the horrors of the First World War and the Great Depression before the graph finally picks up post Bretton Woods).

As Susskind shows, the profits from the Industrial Revolution were not going to workers:

Source: The Technology Trap, Carl Benedikt Frey

So how is the AI Rush comparing? Well Susskind shared another graph:

Source: David Autor Work of the Past, Work of the future

This, from 2019, introduced the idea that the picture is now more complex than high-skilled and low-skilled workers, now there is a middle. And, as Autor has set out more recently, the middle is getting squeezed:

Key dynamics at play include:

  • Labor Share Decline: OECD data reveal a 3–5 percentage point drop in labor’s share of income in sectors most exposed to AI, a trend likely to accelerate as automation deepens.
  • Wage Polarization: The labor market is bifurcating. On one end, high-complexity “sense-making” roles; on the other, low-skill service jobs. The middle is squeezed, amplifying both political risk and regulatory scrutiny.
  • Productivity Paradox 2.0: Despite the promise of AI-driven efficiency, productivity gains remain elusive. The real challenge is not layering chatbots atop legacy processes, but re-architecting workflows from the ground up—a costly and complex endeavor.

For enterprise leaders, the implications are profound. AI is best understood not as a job destroyer, but as a “skill-lowering” platform. It enables internal labor arbitrage, shifting work toward judgment-intensive, context-rich tasks while automating the rest. The risk is not just technological—it is deeply human. Skill depreciation now sits alongside cyber and climate risk on the board agenda, demanding rigorous workforce-reskilling strategies and a keen eye on brand equity as a form of social license.

So, even if the overall number of jobs may not be reduced, the case being made is that the average skill level required to carry them out will be. As Susskind said, the Luddites may have been wrong about the spinning jenny replacing jobs, but it did replace and transform tasks and its impact on workers was to reduce their pay, quality of work, status as craftsmen and economic power. This looks like the threat being made by employers once again, with real UK wages already still only at the level they were at in 2008:

However this is where I part company with Susskind’s presentation, which has an implicit inevitability to it. The message is that these are economic forces we can’t fight against. When he discusses whether the substituting force (where AI replaces you) or the complementing force (where AI helps you to be more productive and increases the demand for your work) will be greater, it is almost as if we have no part to play in this. There is some cognitive dissonance when he quotes Blake, Engels, Marx and Ruskin about the horrors of living through such times, but on the whole it is presented as just a natural historical process that the whole of the profits from the massive increases in productivity of the Industrial Revolution should have ended up in the pockets of the fat guys in waistcoats:

Richard Arkwright, Sir Robert Peel, John Wilkinson and Josiah Wedgwood

I was recently at Cragside in Northumberland, where the arms inventor and dealer William Armstrong used the immense amount of money he made from selling big guns (as well as big cranes and the hydraulic mechanism which powers Tower Bridge) to decking out his house and grounds with the five artificial lakes required to power the world’s first hydro-electric lighting system. His 300 staff ran around, like good reverse-centaurs, trying to keep his various inventions from passenger lifts to an automated spit roast from breaking down, so that he could impress his long list of guests and potential clients to Cragside, from the Shah of Persia to the King of Siam and two future Prime Ministers of Japan. He made sure they were kept running around with a series of clock chimes throughout the day:

However, with some poetic irony, the “estate regulator” is what has since brought the entire mechanism crashing to a halt:

Which brings me to Wallace and Gromit. Wallace is the inventor, heedless of the impact of his inventions on those around him and especially on his closest friend Gromit, who he regularly dumps when he becomes inconvenient to his plans. Gromit just tries to keep everything working.

Wallace is a cheese-eating monster who cannot be assessed purely on the basis of his inventions. And neither can Armstrong, Arkwright, Peel, Wilkinson or Wedgwood. We are in the process of allowing a similar domination of our affairs by our new monsters:

Meta CEO Mark Zuckerberg beside Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos and his fiancée (now wife) Lauren, Google CEO Sundar Pichai and Elon Musk at President Trump’s 2nd Inauguration.

Around half an hour into his second lecture, Daniel Susskind started talking about pies. This is the GDP pie (Susskind has also written a recent book on Growth: A Reckoning, which argues that GDP growth can go on forever – my view would be closer to the critique here from Steve Keen) which, as Susskind says, increased by a factor of 113 in the UK between 1700 and 2000. But, as Steve Keen says:

The statistics strongly support Jevons’ perspective that energy—and specifically, energy from coal—caused rising living standards in the UK (see Figure 2). Coal, and not a hypothesised change in culture, propelled the rise in living standards that Susskind attributes to intangible ideas.

Source: https://www.themintmagazine.com/growth-some-inconvenient-truths/

Susskind talks about the productivity effect, he talks about the bigger pie effect and then he talks about the changing pie effect (ie changes to the types of work we do – think of the changes in the CPI basket of goods and services) as ways in which jobs are created by technological change. However he has nothing to say about just giving less of the pie to the monsters. Instead for Susskind the AI Rush is all about clever people throwing 10 times the amount of money at AI as was directed at the Manhattan Project and the heads of OpenAI, Anthropic and Google DeepMind stating that AI will replace humans in all economically useful tasks in 10 years, a claim which he says we should take seriously. Cory Doctorow, amongst others, disagrees. In his latest piece, When AI prophecy fails, he has this to say about why companies have reduced recruitment despite the underperformance of AI systems to date:

All this can feel improbable. Would bosses really fire workers on the promise of eventual AI replacements, leaving themselves with big bills for AI and falling revenues as the absence of those workers is felt?

The answer is a resounding yes. The AI industry has done such a good job of convincing bosses that AI can do their workers’ jobs that each boss for whom AI fails assumes that they’ve done something wrong. This is a familiar dynamic in con-jobs.

The Industrial Revolution had a distribution problem which gave birth to Chartism, Marxism, the Trades Union movement and the Labour Party in the UK alone. And all of that activity only very slowly chipped away at the wealth share of the top 10%:

Source: https://equalitytrust.org.uk/scale-economic-inequality-uk/

However the monsters of the Industrial Revoution did at least have solid proof that they could deliver what they promised. You don’t get more concrete a proof of concept than this after all:

View on the Thames and the opening Tower Bridge, London, from the terraces at Wapping High Street, at sunset in July 2013, Bert Seghers. This file is made available under the Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication.

The AI Rush has a similar distribution problem, but it is also the first industrial revolution since the global finance industry decoupled from the global real economy. So the wealth share of the Top 10% isn’t going back up fast enough? No problem. Just redistribute the money at the top even further up:

What the monsters of the AI Rush lack is anything tangible to support their increasingly ambitious assertions. Wallace may be full of shit. And the rest of us can all just play a Gromit-like support role until we find out one way or the other or concentrate on what builds resilient communities instead.

Whether you think the claims for the potential of AI are exaggerated; or that the giant bet on it that the US stock market has made will end in an enormous depression; or that the energy demands of this developing technology will be its constraining force ultimately; or that we are all just making the world a colder place by prioritising systems, however capable, over people: take your pick as a reason to push back against the AI Rush. But my bet would be on the next 10 years not being dominated by breathless commentary on the exploits of Tech Bros.

In 2017, I was rather excitedly reporting about ideas which were new to me at the time regarding how technology or, as Richard and Daniel Susskind referred to it in The Future of the Professions, “increasingly capable machines” were going to affect professional work. I concluded that piece as follows:

The actuarial profession and the higher education sector therefore need each other. We need to develop actuaries of the future coming into your firms to have:

  • great team working skills
  • highly developed presentation skills, both in writing and in speech
  • strong IT skills
  • clarity about why they are there and the desire to use their skills to solve problems

All within a system which is possible to regulate in a meaningful way. Developing such people for the actuarial profession will need to be a priority in the next few years.

While all of those things are clearly still needed, it is becoming increasingly clear to me now that they will not be enough to secure a job as industry leaders double down.

Source: https://www.ft.com/content/99b6acb7-a079-4f57-a7bd-8317c1fbb728

And perhaps even worse than the threat of not getting a job immediately following graduation is the threat of becoming a reverse-centaur. As Cory Doctorow explains the term:

A centaur is a human being who is assisted by a machine that does some onerous task (like transcribing 40 hours of podcasts). A reverse-centaur is a machine that is assisted by a human being, who is expected to work at the machine’s pace.

We have known about reverse-centaurs since at least Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times in 1936.

By Charlie Chaplin – YouTube, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=68516472

Think Amazon driver or worker in a fulfillment centre, sure, but now also think of highly competitive and well-paid but still ultimately human-in-the-loop kinds of roles being responsible for AI systems designed to produce output where errors are hard to spot and therefore to stop. In the latter role you are the human scapegoat, in the phrasing of Dan Davies, “an accountability sink” or in that of Madeleine Clare Elish, a “moral crumple zone” all rolled into one. This is not where you want to be as an early career professional.

So how to avoid this outcome? Well obviously if you have other options to roles where a reverse-centaur situation is unavoidable you should take them. Questions to ask at interview to identify whether the role is irretrievably reverse-centauresque would be of the following sort:

  1. How big a team would I be working in? (This might not identify a reverse-centaur role on its own: you might be one of a bank of reverse-centaurs all working in parallel and identified “as a team” while in reality having little interaction with each other).
  2. What would a typical day be in the role? This should smoke it out unless the smokescreen they put up obscures it. If you don’t understand the first answer, follow up to get specifics.
  3. Who would I report to? Get to meet them if possible. Establish whether they are technical expert in the field you will be working in. If they aren’t, that means you are!
  4. Speak to someone who has previously held the role if possible. Although bear in mind that, if it is a true reverse-centaur role and their progress to an actual centaur role is contingent on you taking this one, they may not be completely forthcoming about all of the details.

If you have been successful in a highly competitive recruitment process, you may have a little bit of leverage before you sign the contract, so if there are aspects which you think still need clarifying, then that is the time to do so. If you recognise some reverse-centauresque elements from your questioning above, but you think the company may be amenable, then negotiate. Once you are in, you will understand a lot more about the nature of the role of course, but without threatening to leave (which is as damaging to you as an early career professional as it is to them) you may have limited negotiation options at that stage.

In order to do this successfully, self knowledge will be key. It is that point from 2017:

  • clarity about why they are there and the desire to use their skills to solve problems

To that word skills I would now add “capabilities” in the sense used in a wonderful essay on this subject by Carlo Iacono called Teach Judgement, Not Prompts.

You still need the skills. So, for example, if you are going into roles where AI systems are producing code, you need to have sufficiently good coding skills yourself to create a programme to check code written by the AI system. If the AI system is producing communications, your own communication skills need to go beyond producing work that communicates to an audience effectively to the next level where you understand what it is about your own communication that achieves that, what is necessary, what is unnecessary, what gets in the way of effective communication, ie all of the things that the AI system is likely to get wrong. Then you have a template against which to assess the output from an AI system, and for designing better prompts.

However specific skills and tools come and go, so you need to develop something more durable alongside them. Carlo has set out four “capabilities” as follows:

  1. Epistemic rigour, which is being very disciplined about challenging what we actually know in any given situation. You need to be able to spot when AI output is over-confident given the evidence, or when a correlation is presented as causation. What my tutors used to refer to as “hand waving”.
  2. Synthesis is about integrating different perspectives into an overall understanding. Making connections between seemingly unrelated areas is something AI systems are generally less good at than analysis.
  3. Judgement is knowing what to do in a new situation, beyond obvious precedent. You get to develop judgement by making decisions under uncertainty, receiving feedback, and refining your internal models.
  4. Cognitive sovereignty is all about maintaining your independence of thought when considering AI-generated content. Knowing when to accept AI outputs and when not to.

All of these capabilities can be developed with reflective practice, getting feedback and refining your approach. As Carlo says:

These capabilities don’t just help someone work with AI. They make someone worth augmenting in the first place.

In other words, if you can demonstrate these capabilities, companies who themselves are dealing with huge uncertainty about how much value they are getting from their AI systems and what they can safely be used for will find you an attractive and reassuring hire. Then you will be the centaur, using the increasingly capable systems to improve your own and their productivity while remaining in overall control of the process, rather than a reverse-centaur for which none of that is true.

One sure sign that you are straying into reverse-centaur territory is when a disproportionate amount of your time is spent on pattern recognition (eg basing an email/piece of coding/valuation report on an earlier email/piece of coding/valuation report dealing with a similar problem). That approach was always predicated on being able to interact with a more experienced human who understood what was involved in the task at some peer review stage. But it falls apart when there is no human to discuss the earlier piece of work with, because the human no longer works there, or a human didn’t produce the earlier piece of work. The fake it until you make it approach is not going to work in environments like these where you are more likely to fake it until you break it. And pattern recognition is something an AI system will always be able to do much better and faster than you.

Instead, question everything using the capabilities you have developed. If you are going to be put into potentially compromising situations in terms of the responsibilities you are implicitly taking on, the decisions needing to be made and the limitations of the available knowledge and assumptions on which those decisions will need to be based, then this needs to be made explicit, to yourself and the people you are working with. Clarity will help the company which is trying to use these new tools in a responsible way as much as it helps you. Learning is going to be happening for them as much as it is for you here in this new landscape.

And if the company doesn’t want to have these discussions or allow you to hamper the “efficiency” of their processes by trying to regulate them effectively? Then you should leave as soon as you possibly can professionally and certainly before you become their moral crumple zone. No job is worth the loss of your professional reputation at the start of your career – these are the risks companies used to protect their senior people of the future from, and companies that are not doing this are clearly not thinking about the future at all. Which is likely to mean that they won’t have one.

To return to Cory Doctorow:

Science fiction’s superpower isn’t thinking up new technologies – it’s thinking up new social arrangements for technology. What the gadget does is nowhere near as important as who the gadget does it for and who it does it to.

You are going to have to be the generation who works these things out first for these new AI tools. And you will be reshaping the industrial landscape for future generations by doing so.

And the job of the university and further education sectors will increasingly be to equip you with both the skills and the capabilities to manage this process, whatever your course title.