Time to Change the Stories

Cory Doctorow, writing about the idiocy of homo economicus, points out (not for the first time) that corporations are the real AI.

It’s a reasonable metaphor. Corporations, after all, are “persons” – at least legally – and they do have a mindset and way of doing things that is unique to them. People who work for corporations do things in a certain way because it is the corporation’s way, not because they think it’s a good thing to do.

And those who are trying to convince us that so-called AI is the next big thing are continually hinting that if it’s not quite a person yet, it’s going to be.

The problem, I think, is not with corporations per se – there are reasons to form an organization when you need a large group of people to produce something – but rather with our idea that corporations must sacrifice ethical principles in favor of almighty profit.

We could do corporations differently, just as we could develop and use technology differently. The problem is the myths that surround them, stories someone made up that we’re now stuck with.

Those myths and bad models aren’t just limited to corporations or to tech. Here are a few that come to mind:

• Homo economicus, the myth that individuals always make the rational decision for their own self interest.
• Survival of the fittest, especially as applied in a cultural context.
• The myths around gender and sex that assume – in ways small and large – that men are superior and that there’s a distinct binary difference between men and women.
• The particularly egregious myth of the “tragedy of the commons,” which was invented by a right-wing extremist and which, though it has been thoroughly disproven, is still cited constantly.
• The belief that AI can think and that it is life-changing tech that can change our lives instead of an improvement in certain digital capabilities useful for a few things.
• The multiple myths around corporations, including such things as fiduciary duty.
• American exceptionalism, a myth that is so strong that even those of us who have strong criticisms of our country tend to buy into it.

Which is to say, bad stories. The bad stories that underlie all our cultures are a big part of the problem.

I’m not talking about trashy novels – though some of them may perpetuate those myths. I’m talking science, philosophy, legal systems, business systems, religions, even countries built on bad semi-principles.

I mean, American exceptionalism is why we’re in the current political mess. Despite the fact that Sinclair Lewis called his book It Can’t Happen Here to make the point that it can, we in this country have operated for the last hundred years or so as if we would never be at risk of the kind of destruction from within that other countries often see.

That belief kept us from taking the kind of action that Brazil took after it kicked Bolsonaro out of office. He was barred from running for president again until 2030 and is now being prosecuted.

But we in the US take pride in not being Brazil.

In 2000, after the U.S. Supreme Court awarded the election to Bush, I was very angry, but resigned. “At least we’re not the kind of country that riots in the streets,” I said. “How much harm can Junior Bush do in four years?”

A year later I said, “Dear God, we should have rioted in the streets.”

I’ve been reading an excellent paper by Erica Chenoweth and Zoe Marks of the Harvard Kennedy School of Government entitled “Pro-democracy Organizing against Autocracy in the United States: A Strategic Assessment & Recommendations.”

It was written in 2022 and laid out a groundwork of the kind of organizing and structures that needed to be developed in the event that the efforts to undermine our democracy were not blocked by the Democratic Party win in the 2020 election, which, as it turns out, they weren’t.

Given where we’ve ended up, it would be nice if we had spent the last few years developing the kind of organizing strategies and structures they recommended. As it is, we’re playing catch up.

I think it’s our belief in American exceptionalism that has kept us from taking the kind of actions we actually need to protect our democracy.

It’s another myth, another bad story, and it is harmful.

Surprisingly, understanding this is a counter to the despair I feel these days because it helps me define the problem, which then inspires me come up with better stories to replace the ones that are crippling us.

It’s way past time for some new stories.