In its current state of the art, AI seems not compatible with human creativity, as Felin and Holweg (2024: 28) exemplify with the invention of aviation: given all empirical evidence available at the end of the nineteenth century, AI will not have been able to “predict” the development of the aerospace industry at the beginning of the twentieth century. . .

Félix‐Fernando Muñoz (2024). “The coevolution of technology, markets, and culture: the challenging case of AI.” Review of Evolutionary Political Economy (acccessed on line at https://doi.org/10.1007/s43253-024-00126-0)

I quote at some length from the Felin and Holweg (2024) just referenced:

So, what was the evidence for the plausibility of human powered flight at the time [in the late 1800s and the early 1900s]? The most obvious datapoint at the time was that human powered flight was not a reality. This alone, of course, would not negate the possibility. So, one might want to look at all the data related to human flight attempts to assess its plausibility. Here we would find that humans have tried to build flying machines for centuries, and flight-related trials had in fact radically accelerated during the 19th century. All of these trials of flight could be seen as the data and evidence we should use to update our beliefs about the implausibility of flight. All of the evidence clearly suggested that a belief in human powered flight was delusional. A delusion can readily be defined as having a belief contrary to evidence and reality (Pinker, 2021; Scheffer, 2022): a belief that does not align with accepted facts. In fact, the DSM-4/5—the authoritative manual for mental disorders—defines delusions as “false beliefs due to incorrect inference about external reality” or “fixed beliefs that are not amenable to change in light of conflicting evidence.”

Notice that many people at the time—naïvely, it was thought—pointed to birds as evidence for the belief that humans might also fly. This was a common argument. But the idea that bird flight somehow provided hope and evidence for the plausibility of human flight was seen as delusional by scientists and put to bed by the prominent scientist Joseph LeConte. He argued that flight was “impossible, in spite of the testimony of birds” (1888: 69). Like a good scientist and Bayesian, LeConte appealed to the data to support his claim. He looked at bird species—those that fly and those that do not—and concluded “there is a limit of size and weight of a flying animal.” According to LeConte, weight was the critical determinant of flight. With his data, he clearly pointed out that no bird above the weight of 50 pounds is able to fly, and thus concluded that therefore humans cannot fly. After all, large birds like ostriches and emus are flightless. And even the largest flying birds, he argued—like turkeys and bustards—“rise with difficulty” and “are evidently near the limit” (LeConte, 1888; 69-76). . . .

The emphasis that LeConte placed on the weight of birds to disprove the possibility of human powered flight highlights one of the problems with data and belief updating based on evidence. It is hard to know what data and evidence might be relevant for a given belief or hypothesis. The problem is—as succinctly put by [Karl] Polanyi—that “things are not labeled evidence in nature” (1957: 31). Is the fact that small birds can fly and large birds cannot fly relevant to the question of whether humans can fly? What is the relevant data and evidence in this context? Did flight have something to do with weight, size, or with other features like wings? Did it have something to do with the “flapping” of wings (as Jacob Degen hypothesized)? Or did it have something to do with wing shape, wing size, or wing weight?19 Perhaps feathers are critical to flight. In short, it is hard to know what data might be relevant and useful. . . .

So, what might happen if we weight our beliefs about the plausibility of human flight by focusing on reliable, scientific sources and consensus? In most instances, this is a rational strategy. However, updating our belief on this basis when it comes to heavier-than- air flight during this time period would further reinforce the conclusion that human powered flight was delusional and impossible. . . .

In the case of human flight, the data, evidence, and scientific consensus were firmly against the possibility. No rational Bayesian should have believed in heavier- than-air flight. . . .

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4737265 (my bold)

Why would we belleve today’s AI would have done any better then with that information?

I

Many people would probably think that writing down what they already think is an important part of any policy analysis. It’s a commonplace among many different types of authors, however, that they don’t know what they think until they actually write it down.

“My writings, in prose and verse, may or may not have surprised other people; but I know that they always, on first sight, surprise myself,” writes T.S. Eliot. Chimes in political scientist Aaron Wildavsky, “I do not know what I think until I have tried to write it”. “Therefore, till my work is finished, I never know exactly what result I shall reach, or if I shall arrive at any”, penned Alex de Tocqueville, historian, to philosopher John Stuart Mill. “You never know what you’re filming until later”, remarks a narrator in Chris Marker’s 1977 film Le Fond de l’Air est Rouge. A well-known curator admits, “But then, often when I sit down to write the catalogue text, I discover that it’s actually about something else”. J.M. Coetzee, Nobel novelist, manages to make all this sound quite known: “Truth is something that comes in the process of writing, or comes from the process of writing”.

So too I argue for policy analysts writing up their analyses. But a caveat is needed: Analyses come via many different genres, and not all are conducive to surprising oneself with respect to what one really thinks given the evidence now in front of him or her.

II

Such is the point made by contemporary art critic, Sean Tatol, in a recent edited panel exchange: “When I’m writing, I’m in the process of writing down my thoughts either to formulate something that I haven’t thought of before or to come to a conclusion that’s a surprise to me. That sense of development in thought is, I think, to me the most gratifying. But I think in terms of my short-form reviews that happens very seldom.”

Policy analysts as well have their short-form modes. But one cannot generalize here. The email may well be more surprising for analytical purposes than that article. Two policy briefs, one by a policy advocate who already knows the answer before touching fingers to keyboard, and the other by the policy analyst who holds off rewriting until seeing what they’ve first typed, are quite different matters.

The moral of this story is unexceptionable but worth repeating: The more genres that the policy analyst has access to and is adept in, the more likely that catalyst of analytic surprise is to be found.

Sources

https://opendocs.ids.ac.uk/opendocs/handle/20.500.12413/18008

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WQPLML9A6bY

For some time, we’ve had posed to us the binaries of civilization or barbarism along with socialism or barbarism. Later choices included progress or barbarism, capitalism or barbarism, liberalism or barbarism. More recent are: degrowth or barbarism, anti-Zionism or barbarism, anti-racist feminism or barbarism, climate justice or barbarism, and digital socialism or digital barbarism.

What an odd way to keep alive the notion that civilization changes because barbarism doesn’t.

Proposition 1: The more services demanded from a single resource, the greater the demand for reliability in each service but the messier it is to ensure that reliability (reliability defined as that safe and continuous provision of a vital service).

The more we rely on firefighters, the more services we demand from them. First, crews responded to fires; then they had to respond to other emergency calls. Power lines are expected to carry not just electricity, but broadband internet services. Banks provided accounts and loans; then we required they source other financial instruments. During service expansions, reliability mandates and service provision suffer growing pains and things get messier.

Proposition 2: The messier it is to provide multiple reliable services from a single resource, the more the services are provided reliably, if at all, in real time only, as performance standards are clearest then.

Police now respond immediately only to 911 calls for activity in progress. The bank shifts from waiting lines in front of few tellers to smaller lines at many outside ATMs. Performance criteria are more evident in real time: Is the cash right at hand, did the police come at once, did you get your emergency care now?

Proposition 3: More services being reliably provided in real time, however, increases the likelihood that new services will be demanded from that single resource, rendering it more difficult to ensure any of the services is reliably provided, right now.

Back at that ATM: Before, it provided cash and deposit services; then it became a one-stop for other transactions, ranging from recharging your cellphone, through paying your bills and buying stamps, to booking rail tickets. Conditions get even messier when the multi-purpose ATM (and others nearby) are out of order, and none of the now-expanded services are available. It’s the same with your cellphone when reception is unavailable.

Proposition 4: The more the services and the messier the real-time management, the greater the pressure to decouple one or more services from the resource and the more likely a new resource will be found/created to provide the decoupled service reliably.

Smartphones are no longer just mobile versions of fixed-line telephones, but altogether different mechanisms with added services. Banks long ago ceased to source financial services sector on their own; all manner of novel financial transactions are provided outside the official banking sector.

Proposition 5: The more reliably the service is provided from the new resource, the greater the pressure to demand more services from that resource. . . and so the dynamic continues.

Should it need saying, it is not obvious what new or more differentiated resources, if any, will emerge nor is there anything inevitable about the propositional dynamic. What can be said, though, is that you’re in it for life when it comes to managing mess-and-reliability.

I

I type “collapse of pastoralist societies?” into Google search and get this AI-generated answer:

Pastoralist societies have been declining for a variety of reasons, including: 

• Loss of land: Pastoralists have lost access to land due to the development of large-scale cultivation and irrigation, the establishment of nature reserves and game parks, and the imposition of national boundaries. 
• Climate change: Climate change has threatened the availability of water and arable land, which are critical for pastoralism. 
• Government policies: Governments have expropriated land from pastoralists, and converted communal property systems to open access situations. 
• Migration: Some pastoralists have moved to populous areas to pursue education, abandoning traditional lifestyles. 
• Conflict: Conflict, disease, drought, and famine have particularly affected vulnerable pastoralist communities. 
• Arms proliferation: Arms proliferation has significantly altered the pastoralism landscape. 
• Lack of government support: Pastoral communities receive little support from their governments. 

No surprises here. This is the gist of the literature I read. But an obvious question remains: How many of the pastoralists affected see collapse in the same way or for the same reasons?

I don’t know their number, but I most certainly see how some herders might believe their pastoralist systems are collapsing but still adhere to a very different narrative of what is going on and being responded to.

To see how and why, let’s turn to a recent article that describes the opposite case: Urban people who see it inevitable that modern societies are collapsing and who respond differently.

II

In his 2024 preprint, “The conviction of the inevitable: Collapsism and collective action in contemporary rural France,” Jérôme Tournadre, a political scientist and sociologist, wonders why some people who are absolutely convinced on the inevitability of collapse in modern (“thermo-industrial”) societies–for them, it’s self-evident the collapse is well underway–nonetheless respond by moving to the countryside and acting neither fatalistically nor apathetically but collectively and differently together.

You might think those different ways included “back to nature” and eschewing all things modern and technological. But no, and here is where it gets interesting for pastoralist comparison:

Sophie, for example, has no trouble using a thermal brush cutter when it comes to freeing agricultural commons from overly invasive vegetation. Alex earns a little money by occasionally installing photovoltaic panels for individuals. However, he does not see the need to use it at home insofar as his connection to the electricity grid satisfies him. Similarly, if the members of the neo-village [one of the research sites] have chosen to gradually do without cars, it is not to reduce their greenhouse gas emissions but, above all, to no longer depend on oil that is bound to become rare or to lose its usefulness in a collapsed world. This logic obviously leads them to use bicycles but also to learn how to handle and maintain tools such as the scythe, the lumberjack’s handsaw or the Japanese saw that is supposed to replace both the chainsaw and the jigsaw. The acquisition of new skills is in any case a central ambition within these collective actions, which endeavour to break away from the specialization found in industrial civilization and develop a versatility more in line with troubled times: knowing how to milk goats and process their milk, graft fruit trees, recognize wild plants and mushrooms, etc.

https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/14661381241266936

Now turn the quote inside out for pastoralists. I don’t think it is generalizable, but say you do find pastoralists who are convinced that their systems are collapsing. More and in their own terms, that collapse is inevitable.

So what?

So, yes you see them learning to use all manner of saws and acquiring new skills, while at the same time continuing to milk the goats and process milk and collect local herbs. Yes, you see them cutting firewood for burning but relying on electricity where available. Yes, you see them undertaking money-paying jobs off-site. Yes, you see them breaking away from the specializations of pastoralism and developing more versatility and options in their also troubled times.

Yes, there are also alarming turnabouts in contemporary pastoralist societies as well, but as Tournadre and other colleagues put it, this is an “alarmed reflexivity.” Some pastoralists, like some urbanites, are alarmed by events in their respective systems. But their response is a more nuanced voice than it is outright exit. They are like whistleblowers who still live amongst us: “Something’s wrong here and it has to change and here’s what I have to say and am doing.”

Hardly the negative narratives and critiques AI has been trained on.

Empirical research into the evolution of cloud platforms is a challenge, as computational ecosystems are not only rather complex and opaque, but are also subject to continuous change.

https://policyreview.info/articles/analysis/platform-power-ai-evolution-cloud-infrastructures

Contrast such a notion of, say, ChatGPT, to that of the more conventional “black box.” If humans can only know that which they create (and here too no assurances), then by definition we have a better chance of understanding those black boxes of algorithms we created (as with much of geometry) than those opaque ecosystems, important parts of which we did not create.

Now, of course, modelers think nothing unique about representing ecosystems, but that is more akin to landscaping or remolding than they admit.

Odd that when demographic decline in China is leading to the prospect of higher wages there, we witness the counter-prospect of massive unemployment via AI-automation everywhere.

Odd that when the North’s techno-solutionism is called into question, pressures mount that the North, as a matter of climate justice, fund massive climate adaptation in the South.

Odd that when just as we better understand that economic growth was and is an engine of global environmental destruction, economic growth has slowed down anyway over the last half century because of real declines in real production and productivity.

Odd that when generative AI threatens human creativity, it’s precisely at the moment online cultures are “far more inventive and daring than the arts, both formally and in terms of the ideas it presents.” (Dean Kissick in The Drift).

Odd that the calls for breaking up Amazon Inc. because of its monopoly power and anti-competitive practices are made by those whose goal is nothing like a competitive market society. Odd that current capitalist pathologies are said to arise because the capitalism of market productivity has disappeared.

Odder that it’s all about odds.

Source

https://www.thedriftmag.com/senseless-babble/

Answer: Have known errors in emergency response and initial service restoration been corrected before the next emergency?

I

It seems odd to talk about known errors when uncertainties and surprises pervade and permeate earthquakes, river flooding, forest wildfires, and grid failures in electricity and water.

But there can be and often are an urgency, clarity and logic about what to do by way of just-in-time or just-for-now emergency response. What needs to be done is evident to front-line infrastructure staff and emergency management professionals in ways not so for those in incident command centers or higher-level management or official positions. For experienced front-line staff, not doing what needs to be done in these circumstances constitute errors to be avoided in real-time. They are avoidable errors because they can be corrected beforehand.

II

In particular, our research on interconnected critical infrastructures found:

–Under conditions of shifting or shifted interconnectivity, it would be an error for infrastructure operators and emergency managers not to establish lateral communications with one another and undertake improvisational and shared restoration activities where needed, even if no official arrangement exists to do so.

–In related fashion, it would be a management error in anticipation and planning not to provide robust and contingent interinfrastructure communication capabilities, including communication connections between the control rooms of interconnected infrastructures. This communication, it has been demonstrated, is also greatly facilitated by establishing lateral interinfrastructure personnel contacts prior to emergencies

–Further, it would be an error not to have some contingent resources for restoration and recovery activities such as vehicles, portable generators and movable cell towers in differing locations available across infrastructures if needed, particularly where chokepoints of interconnected infrastructures are adjacent to each other.

Here, errors are not to be managed, more or less like risks, but rather managed categorically as: Yes or no, have they been avoided?

III

A number of policy and management implications follow. One deserves underscoring here: It may well be some activities presently funded under state and federal “emergency risk management” aren’t as important as enabling dedicated support and staffing for such error correction, now and ahead.

I once reviewed a book that argued hunter-and-gatherer societies were the most sustainable. There was and is no better model for sustainability, I read. Yet, there is sustainable, and then there’s sustainable. I also read that irrigated agriculture was touted precisely because it sustained year-around production.

I want us to entertain a thought experiment. Assume current levels of above-average consumption, production and pollution are halved and then halved again. High population levels are halved and then halved again. The mass extinction of biodiversity stops, fossil fuel extraction stops; industrial fishing, farming and forestry stop; and all manner of government stupidity in the form of harmful subsidies, incentives and distortions stop.

Now ask yourself: What if these interventions also prove unsustainable? What we thought was true or truer sustainability proves to be unsustainable as things change, we are told, for the better.

Degrowth leads to now stronger states invading now less resourceful ones; changing diets leads to new infirmities or recurrence of older diseases; reducing fossil fuel doesn’t reduce demand for plastics and other petroleum based products; the growing middle classes, once considered essential to the advancement of democracy and states, are now killing the global biosphere; . . . yet all the while the demand that whatever critical infrastructures are in place–even ecologically sensitive–be highly reliable, that is: at least more reliable and safe than the hunter-gatherer societies of the early 1960s and 70s!

What if we the future don’t want any sustainability–be it irrigated agriculture then or regenerative agriculture ahead–that is unreliable and that is unsafe? It’s been said that the relative absence of scenario planning in old Soviet bloc countries was largely because there were no alternative scenarios to compare there. The more strident the calls for this-way-only sustainability, so too the more visible the absence of scenarios for “what do we do now that too is unsustainable?”

If average global temperature rises are to be limited in line with the 2015 Paris agreement, climate finance globally will need to increase to about $9tn a year globally by 2030, up from just under $1.3tn in 2021-22, according to a report last year from the Climate Policy Initiative.

https://www.ft.com/content/6873d96e-3e40-45c6-9d84-8ce27b7b23e1

The above quote is extracted from an article written as if it were a quest story with beginning, middle and end by way of such funding. In reality, it is a conversion story of before and after a revelation.

For my part, I like my conversion stories upfront: “Any socialist effort to navigate the very real state shift in the climate will require a massive reconstruction and deployment of productive forces. For example, all the major cities that are on a coastline on this planet will have to be moved inland. That means the electrical grids and sewer systems need to be rebuilt. We will need to reimagine urban life on a massive scale. It’s not wrong to point that out.” (https://www.the-syllabus.com/ts-spotlight/the-right-climate/conversation/jason-moore)

If correct, it is to be as in: Saul the Jew before; Paul the Apostle after.

The one great virtue of their being blunt is patent, though: It’s clear all manner of blunders, contingencies, not-knowing, and inexperience will be incurred in this forced march from the sea. Where in the Financial Times article are the parallel mistakes, accidents and failures in wait for the $9tn per annum?

Source

For more on conversion narratives, see Adam Phillips (2022). On Wanting to Change. Picador Paper