The real (economic) AI apocalypse is nigh

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“OK,” the young man said, “but what can we do about the crash?” He was clearly very worried.

“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about that. I think it’s already locked in. I mean, maybe if we had a different government, they’d fund a jobs guarantee to pull us out of it, but I don’t think Trump’ll do that, so –”

“But what can we do?

We went through a few rounds of this, with this poor kid just repeating the same question in different tones of voice, like an acting coach demonstrating the five stages of grieving using nothing but inflection. It was an uncomfortable moment, and there was some decidedly nervous chuckling around the room as we pondered the coming AI (economic) apocalypse, and the fate of this kid graduating with mid-six-figure debts into an economy of ashes and rubble.

I firmly believe the (economic) AI apocalypse is coming.

I’m not sure I entirely agree with Doctorow on this one. I’ll probably read his upcoming book on the subject, though.

I agree that, based on the ways in which AI is being used, financed, and marketed… we’re absolutely in an unsustainable bubble. There’s a lot of fishy accounting, dubious business models, and overpromised marketing. I’m not saying AI’s useless: it’s not! But it’s yet proven itself to be revolutionary, nor even on the path to being so, and it’s so expensive that it seems unlikely that the current “first dose is free” business model is almost-certainly unsustainable.

But I’m not convinced that a resulting catastrophic economic collapse is inevitable. Maybe I’m over-optimistic, but I like to imagine that the bubble can fizzle-out gradually and the actually-valuable uses of AI can continue to be used in a sustainable way. (I’m less-optimistic that we’ll find a happy-solution to prevent AI from being used to rip off artists, but that’s another story.)

But we’ll see.

Note #27339

This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.

We made it to the end of another Bleptember, with a photo every day of my especially-bleppy young doggo.

A champagne-coloured French Bulldog in a teal jumper lies in a soft brown dog bed in the corner of an office. She looks over her shoulder at the photographer, her tongue sticking pretty-much entirely out in a long blep. In front of her, a handwritten sign is marked with a pawprint and a heart and the words 'Happy Bleptember 2025! See you next year!'

Thanks for coming along for the ride. See you next year!

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