[continued from previous message]   
      
   opening salvo in July, when its chief executive, Sam Altman, published,   
   with Lehane’s support, an op-ed in the Washington Post which portrayed   
   the fight around A.I. regulations as one pitting democracies against   
   authoritarian regimes. “The bottom line is that democratic AI has a   
   lead over authoritarian AI because our political system has empowered   
   U.S. companies, entrepreneurs, and academics,” Altman wrote. But that   
   lead is not guaranteed, he continued, and it can be protected only if   
   Congress passes regulations that encourage important software   
   advances—like OpenAI’s ChatGPT chatbot—and also prioritize “rules of   
   the road” and “norms in developing and deploying AI.” OpenAI, Altman   
   indicated, is prepared to accept substantial constraints on data   
   security and transparency, and it supports the creation of a government   
   agency to regulate A.I. development and use.   
      
   This rhetoric may sound high-minded, but—not surprisingly—Altman’s   
   position is also somewhat self-interested. The company’s smaller rivals   
   would probably find such rules and norms expensive and cumbersome, and   
   therefore have a harder time complying with them than OpenAI would. The   
   op-ed was also an example of Lehanian reframing: instead of talking   
   about big A.I. companies competing with small startups, or about the   
   inevitable tensions between rapid technological leaps and slower but   
   safer progress, Altman recast the A.I. battle as one between good and   
   evil. And Silicon Valley, in this story line, is the home of virtuous   
   superheroes.   
      
   Some observers of the A.I. industry find this perspective cynical.   
   Suresh Venkatasubramanian, a professor of computer science at Brown, is   
   a co-author of the White House’s “Blueprint for an AI Bill of Rights,”   
   which urges regulations on data privacy and transparency, and   
   protections against algorithmic discrimination. He told me, “You notice   
   OpenAI doesn’t want to talk about its alleged theft of copyrighted   
   materials, which is definitely anti-democratic and, if true, definitely   
   anti-American.” (ChatGPT was developed by inhaling texts from the   
   Internet without paying—or, for the most part, crediting—their authors;   
   OpenAI claims that this is fair use.) What’s more, Altman’s reframing   
   elides important issues that democratic nations might disagree on, such   
   as what kinds of privacy regulations ought to govern A.I., and who   
   should pay for the environmental costs of A.I. data centers.   
      
   But Lehane’s strategy of putting Altman forward as a strong political   
   voice guarantees that OpenAI, and the A.I. industry as a whole, will   
   continue to influence the American political conversation for years to   
   come. Venkatasubramanian told me, “The goal is to get a seat at the   
   table, because then you have influence over how things turn out.” The   
   A.I. industry’s influence is already being felt in state capitals.   
   Workday, a giant human-resources software company, has been lobbying in   
   several states to add what could be a subtle loophole to legislation   
   about “automated decision tools” in the workplace. Companies that, like   
   Workday, sell A.I.-enhanced software for hiring employees would   
   essentially be immune from lawsuits over racial discrimination, or   
   other biases, unless a litigant could prove that A.I. was the   
   “controlling” factor behind the rejection of a candidate. “It all comes   
   down to just one word in the legislation,” Venkatasubramanian said.   
   “One word makes all the difference, and if you are at the table, and   
   involved in the conversation, you can nudge that word into the   
   legislation, or out of it.”   
      
   Even Lehane admits that the A.I. campaign is in its early stages. The   
   exact pressure points aren’t quite clear yet. Alliances and enmities   
   are constantly shifting. What is certain, though, is that Silicon   
   Valley will continue to bully and woo politicians by deploying   
   money—and its giant user base—as a lure and a weapon.   
      
   Things could change: the robber barons of the Gilded Age were   
   eventually brought down; twentieth-century industrial tyrants were,   
   over time, shamed into retreat. The most well-known tech   
   companies—Google, Apple, Meta, and Amazon—have become bêtes noires to   
   people on both the right and the left. (So far, though, this seemingly   
   hasn’t done much to harm profits, or to cow executives.) Democracy, in   
   all its mess and glory, may prevail. The only fixed truth about   
   technology is that change is inevitable. Most of the tech industry “has   
   run independent of politics for our entire careers,” Andreessen wrote   
   when he announced that his political neutrality was over. Going   
   forward, he would be working against candidates who defied tech. As   
   Andreessen saw it, he didn’t have a choice: “As the old Soviet joke   
   goes, ‘You may not be interested in politics, but politics is   
   interested in you.’ ” ?   
      
   Published in the print edition of the October 14, 2024, issue, with the   
   headline “Silicon Valley’s Influence Game.”   
      
   https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/10/14/silicon-valley-the-new-   
   lobbying-monster   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)