More from David Heinemeier Hansson
While the world frets about the future of AI, the universal basic income advocates have an answer ready for the big question of "what are we all going to do when the jobs are gone": Just pay everyone enough to loaf around as they see fit! Problem solved, right? Wrong. The purpose of work is not just about earning your keep, but also about earning a purpose and a place in the world. This concept is too easily dismissed by intellectuals who imagines a world of liberated artists and community collaborators, if only unshackled by the burdens of capitalism. Because that's the utopia that appeals to them. But we already know what happens to most people who lose their job. It's typically not a song-and-dance of liberation, but whimper with increasing despair. Even if they're able to draw benefits for a while. Some of that is probably gendered. I think men have a harder time finding a purpose without a clear and externally validated station of usefulness. As a corollary to the quip that "women want to be heard, men want to be useful" from psychology. Long-term unemployment, even cushioned by state benefits, often leads men to isolation and a rotting well-being. I've seen this play out time and again with men who've lost their jobs, men who've voluntarily retired from their jobs, and men who've sold their companies. As the days add up after the centering purpose in their life disappeared, so does the discontent with "the problem of being". Sure, these are just anecdotes. Some men are thrilled to do whatever, whenever, without financial worries. And some women mourn a lost job as deeply as most men do. But I doubt it's evenly split. Either way, I doubt we'll be delighted to discover what societal pillars wither away when nobody is needed for anything. If all labor market participation rests on intrinsic motivation. That strikes me as an obvious dead end. We may not have a say in the manner, of course. The AI revolution, should it materialize like its proponents predict, has the potential to be every bit as unstoppable as the agricultural, industrial, and IT revolutions before it. Where the Luddites and the Amish, who reject these revolutions, end up as curiosities on the fringe of modern civilization. The rest of us are transformed, whether we like it or not. But generally speaking, I think we have liked it! I'm sure it was hard to imagine what we'd all be doing after the hoe and the horse gave way to the tractor and combine back when 97% of the population worked the land. Same when robots and outsourcing claimed the most brutish assembly lines in the West. Yet we found our way through both to a broadly better place. The IT revolution feels trickier. I've personally worked my life in its service, but I'm less convinced it's been as universal good as those earlier shifts. Is that just nostalgia? Because I remember a time before EVERYTHING IS COMPUTER? Possibly, but I think there's a reason the 80s in particular occupy such a beloved place in the memory of many who weren't even born then. What's more certain to me is that we all need a why, as Viktor Frankl told us in Man's Search for Meaning. And while some of us are able to produce that artisanal, bespoke why imagined by some intellectuals and academics, I think most people need something prepackaged. And a why from work offers just that. Especially in a world bereft of a why from God. It's a great irony that the more comfortable and frictionless our existence becomes, the harder we struggle with the "the problem of being". We just aren't built for a life of easy leisure. Not in mass numbers, anyway. But while the masses can easily identify the pathology of that when it comes to the idle rich, and especially their stereotyped trust-fund offspring, they still crave it for themselves. Orwell's thesis is that heaven is merely that fuzzily-defined place that provides relief from the present hardships we wish to escape. But Dostoevsky remarks that should man ever find this relief, he'd be able to rest there for just a moment, before he'd inevitably sabotage it — just to feel something again. I think of that often while watching The Elon Show. Musk's craving for the constant chaos of grand gestures is Dostoevsky's prediction underwritten by the wealth of the world's richest man. Heaven is not a fortune of $200 billion to be quietly enjoyed in the shade of a sombrero. It's in the arena. I’ve also pondered this after writing about why Apple needs a new asshole in charge, and reflecting on our book, It Doesn't Have To Be Crazy At Work. Yes, work doesn’t have to be crazy, but for many, occasional craziness is part of the adventure they crave. They’ll tolerate an asshole if they take them along for one such adventure — accepting struggle and chaos as a small price to feel alive. It's a bit like that bit from The Babylon Bee: Study Finds 100% Of Men Would Immediately Leave Their Desk Job If Asked To Embark Upon A Trans-Antarctic Expedition On A Big Wooden Ship. A comical incarnation of David Graeber's Bullshit Jobs thesis that derives its punchline from how often work lacks a Big Why. So when a megalomanic like Musk — or even just a run-of-the-mill asshole with a grand vision — offers one, the call of the wild beckons. Like that big wooden ship and the open sea. But even in the absence of such adventure, a stupid email job offers something. Maybe it isn't much, maybe it doesn't truly nourish the soul, but it's something. In the Universal Basic Income scenario of having to design your own adventure entirely from scratch, there is nothing. Just a completely blank page with no deadline to motivate writing the first line. If we kill the old 9-5 "why", we better find a new one. That might be tougher than making silicon distill all our human wisdom into vectors and parameters, but we have to pull it off.
Picasso got it right: Great artists steal. Even if he didn’t actually say it, and we all just repeat the quote because Steve Jobs used it. Because it strikes at the heart of creativity: None of it happens in a vacuum. Everything is inspired by something. The best ideas, angles, techniques, and tones are stolen to build everything that comes after the original. Furthermore, the way to learn originality is to set it aside while you learn to perfect a copy. You learn to draw by imitating the masters. I learned photography by attempting to recreate great compositions. I learned to program by aping the Ruby standard library. Stealing good ideas isn’t a detour on the way to becoming a master — it’s the straight route. And it’s nothing to be ashamed of. This, by the way, doesn’t just apply to art but to the economy as well. Japan became an economic superpower in the 80s by first poorly copying Western electronics in the decades prior. China is now following exactly the same playbook to even greater effect. You start with a cheap copy, then you learn how to make a good copy, and then you don’t need to copy at all. AI has sped through the phase of cheap copies. It’s now firmly established in the realm of good copies. You’re a fool if you don’t believe originality is a likely next step. In all likelihood, it’s a matter of when, not if. (And we already have plenty of early indications that it’s actually already here, on the edges.) Now, whether that’s good is a different question. Whether we want AI to become truly creative is a fair question — albeit a theoretical or, at best, moral one. Because it’s going to happen if it can happen, and it almost certainly can (or even has). Ironically, I think the peanut gallery disparaging recent advances — like the Ghibli fever — over minor details in the copying effort will only accelerate the quest toward true creativity. AI builders, like the Japanese and Chinese economies before them, eager to demonstrate an ability to exceed. All that is to say that AI is in the "Good Copy" phase of its creative evolution. Expect "The Great Artist" to emerge at any moment.
The singularity is the point where artificial intelligence goes parabolic, surpassing humans writ large, and leads to rapid, unpredictable change. The intellectual seed of this concept was planted back in the '50s by early computer pioneer John von Neumann. So it’s been here since the dawn of the modern computer, but I’ve only just come around to giving the idea consideration as something other than science fiction. Now, this quickly becomes quasi-religious, with all the terms being as fluid as redemption, absolution, and eternity. What and when exactly is AGI (Artificial General Intelligence) or SAI (Super Artificial Intelligence)? You’ll find a million definitions. But it really does feel like we’re on the cusp of something. Even the most ardent AI skeptics are probably finding it hard not to be impressed with recent advances. Everything Is Ghibli might seem like a silly gimmick, but to me, it flipped a key bit here: the style persistence, solving text in image generation, and then turning those images into incredible moving pictures. What makes all this progress so fascinating is that it’s clear nobody knows anything about what the world will look like four years from now. It’s barely been half that time since ChatGPT and Midjourney hit us in 2022, and the leaps since then have been staggering. I’ve been playing with computers since the Commodore 64 entertained my childhood street with Yie Ar Kung-Fu on its glorious 1 MHz processor. I was there when the web made the internet come alive in the mid-'90s. I lined up for hours for the first iPhone to participate in the grand move to mobile. But I’ve never felt less able to predict what the next token of reality will look like. When you factor in recent advances in robotics and pair those with the AI brains we’re building, it’s easy to imagine all sorts of futuristic scenarios happening very quickly: from humanoid robots finishing household chores à la The Jetsons (have you seen how good it’s getting at folding?) to every movie we watch being created from a novel prompt on the spot, to, yes, even armies of droids and drones fighting our wars. This is one of those paradigm shifts with the potential for Total Change. Like the agricultural revolution, the industrial revolution, the information revolution. The kind that rewrites society, where it was impossible to tell in advance where we’d land. I understand why people find that uncertainty scary. But I choose to receive it as exhilarating instead. What good is it to fret about a future you don’t control anyway? That’s the marvel and the danger of progress: nobody is actually in charge! This is all being driven by a million independent agents chasing irresistible incentives. There’s no pause button, let alone an off-ramp. We’re going to be all-in whether we like it or not. So we might as well come to terms with that reality. Choose to marvel at the accelerating milestones we've been hitting rather than tremble over the next. This is something most religions and grand philosophies have long since figured out. The world didn’t just start changing; we’ve had these lurches of forward progress before. And humans have struggled to cope with the transition since the beginning of time. So, the best intellectual frameworks have worked on ways to deal. Christianity has the Serenity Prayer, which I’ve always been fond of: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. That’s the part most people know. But it actually continues: Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardship as a pathway to peace; taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to Your will; so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next. Amen. What a great frame for the mind! The Stoics were big on the same concept. Here’s Epictetus: Some things are in our control and others not. Things in our control are opinion, pursuit, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever are our own actions. Things not in our control are body, property, reputation, command, and, in one word, whatever are not our own actions. Buddhism does this well too. Here’s the Buddha being his wonderfully brief self: Suffering does not follow one who is free from clinging. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all these traditions converged on the idea of letting go of what you can’t control, not clinging to any specific preferred outcome. Because you’re bound to be disappointed that way. You don’t get to know the script to life in advance, but what an incredible show, if you just let it unfold. This is the broader view of amor fati. You should learn to love not just your own fate, but the fate of the world — its turns, its twists, its progress, and even the inevitable regressions. The singularity may be here soon, or it may not. You’d be a fool to be convinced either way. But you’ll find serenity in accepting whatever happens.
We're spending just shy of $1.5 million/year on AWS S3 at the moment to host files for Basecamp, HEY, and everything else. The only way we were able to get the pricing that low was by signing a four-year contract. That contract expires this summer, June 30, so that's our departure date for the final leg of our cloud exit. We've already racked the replacement from Pure Storage in our two primary data centers. A combined 18 petabytes, securely replicated a thousand miles apart. It's a gorgeous rack full of blazing-fast NVMe storage modules. Each card in the chassis capable of storing 150TB now. Pure Storage comes with an S3-compatible API, so no need for CEPH, Minio, or any of the other object storage software solutions you might need, if you were trying to do this exercise on commodity hardware. This makes it pretty easy from the app side to do the swap. But there's still work to do. We have to transfer almost six petabytes out of S3. In an earlier age, that egress alone would have cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in fees alone. But now AWS offers a free 60-day egress window for anyone who wants to leave, so that drops the cost to $0. Nice! It takes a while to transfer that much data, though. Even on the fat 40-Gbit pipe we have set aside for the purpose, it'll probably take at least three weeks, once you factor in overhead and some babysitting of the process. That's when it's good to remind ourselves why June 30th matters. And the reminder math pens out in nice, round numbers for easy recollection: If we don't get this done in time, we'll be paying a cool five thousand dollars a day to continue to use S3 (if all the files are still there). Yikes! That's $35,000/week! That's $150,000/month! Pretty serious money for a company of our size. But so are the savings. Over five years, it'll now be almost five million! Maybe even more, depending on the growth in files we need to store for customers. About $1.5 million for the Pure Storage hardware, and a bit less than a million over five years for warranty and support. But those big numbers always seem a bit abstract to me. The idea of paying $5,000/day, if we miss our departure date, is awfully concrete in comparison.
More in programming
While the world frets about the future of AI, the universal basic income advocates have an answer ready for the big question of "what are we all going to do when the jobs are gone": Just pay everyone enough to loaf around as they see fit! Problem solved, right? Wrong. The purpose of work is not just about earning your keep, but also about earning a purpose and a place in the world. This concept is too easily dismissed by intellectuals who imagines a world of liberated artists and community collaborators, if only unshackled by the burdens of capitalism. Because that's the utopia that appeals to them. But we already know what happens to most people who lose their job. It's typically not a song-and-dance of liberation, but whimper with increasing despair. Even if they're able to draw benefits for a while. Some of that is probably gendered. I think men have a harder time finding a purpose without a clear and externally validated station of usefulness. As a corollary to the quip that "women want to be heard, men want to be useful" from psychology. Long-term unemployment, even cushioned by state benefits, often leads men to isolation and a rotting well-being. I've seen this play out time and again with men who've lost their jobs, men who've voluntarily retired from their jobs, and men who've sold their companies. As the days add up after the centering purpose in their life disappeared, so does the discontent with "the problem of being". Sure, these are just anecdotes. Some men are thrilled to do whatever, whenever, without financial worries. And some women mourn a lost job as deeply as most men do. But I doubt it's evenly split. Either way, I doubt we'll be delighted to discover what societal pillars wither away when nobody is needed for anything. If all labor market participation rests on intrinsic motivation. That strikes me as an obvious dead end. We may not have a say in the manner, of course. The AI revolution, should it materialize like its proponents predict, has the potential to be every bit as unstoppable as the agricultural, industrial, and IT revolutions before it. Where the Luddites and the Amish, who reject these revolutions, end up as curiosities on the fringe of modern civilization. The rest of us are transformed, whether we like it or not. But generally speaking, I think we have liked it! I'm sure it was hard to imagine what we'd all be doing after the hoe and the horse gave way to the tractor and combine back when 97% of the population worked the land. Same when robots and outsourcing claimed the most brutish assembly lines in the West. Yet we found our way through both to a broadly better place. The IT revolution feels trickier. I've personally worked my life in its service, but I'm less convinced it's been as universal good as those earlier shifts. Is that just nostalgia? Because I remember a time before EVERYTHING IS COMPUTER? Possibly, but I think there's a reason the 80s in particular occupy such a beloved place in the memory of many who weren't even born then. What's more certain to me is that we all need a why, as Viktor Frankl told us in Man's Search for Meaning. And while some of us are able to produce that artisanal, bespoke why imagined by some intellectuals and academics, I think most people need something prepackaged. And a why from work offers just that. Especially in a world bereft of a why from God. It's a great irony that the more comfortable and frictionless our existence becomes, the harder we struggle with the "the problem of being". We just aren't built for a life of easy leisure. Not in mass numbers, anyway. But while the masses can easily identify the pathology of that when it comes to the idle rich, and especially their stereotyped trust-fund offspring, they still crave it for themselves. Orwell's thesis is that heaven is merely that fuzzily-defined place that provides relief from the present hardships we wish to escape. But Dostoevsky remarks that should man ever find this relief, he'd be able to rest there for just a moment, before he'd inevitably sabotage it — just to feel something again. I think of that often while watching The Elon Show. Musk's craving for the constant chaos of grand gestures is Dostoevsky's prediction underwritten by the wealth of the world's richest man. Heaven is not a fortune of $200 billion to be quietly enjoyed in the shade of a sombrero. It's in the arena. I’ve also pondered this after writing about why Apple needs a new asshole in charge, and reflecting on our book, It Doesn't Have To Be Crazy At Work. Yes, work doesn’t have to be crazy, but for many, occasional craziness is part of the adventure they crave. They’ll tolerate an asshole if they take them along for one such adventure — accepting struggle and chaos as a small price to feel alive. It's a bit like that bit from The Babylon Bee: Study Finds 100% Of Men Would Immediately Leave Their Desk Job If Asked To Embark Upon A Trans-Antarctic Expedition On A Big Wooden Ship. A comical incarnation of David Graeber's Bullshit Jobs thesis that derives its punchline from how often work lacks a Big Why. So when a megalomanic like Musk — or even just a run-of-the-mill asshole with a grand vision — offers one, the call of the wild beckons. Like that big wooden ship and the open sea. But even in the absence of such adventure, a stupid email job offers something. Maybe it isn't much, maybe it doesn't truly nourish the soul, but it's something. In the Universal Basic Income scenario of having to design your own adventure entirely from scratch, there is nothing. Just a completely blank page with no deadline to motivate writing the first line. If we kill the old 9-5 "why", we better find a new one. That might be tougher than making silicon distill all our human wisdom into vectors and parameters, but we have to pull it off.
I got a new-to-me keyboard recently. It was my brother's in school, but he doesn't use it anymore, so I set it up in my office. It's got 61 keys and you can hook up a pedal to it, too! But when you hook it up to the computer, you can't type with it. I mean, that's expected—it makes piano and synth noises mostly. But what if you could type with it? Wouldn't that be grand? (Ha, grand, like a pian—you know, nevermind.) How do you type on a keyboard? Or more generally, how do you type with any MIDI device? I also have a couple of wind synths and a MIDI drum pad, can I type with those? The first and most obvious idea is to map each key to a letter. The lowest key on the keyboard could be 'a'[1], etc. This kind of works for a piano-style keyboard. If you have a full size keyboard, you get 88 keys. You can use 52 of those for the letters you need for English[2] and 10 for digits. Then you have 26 left. That's more than enough for a few punctuation marks and other niceties. It only kind of works, though, because it sounds pretty terrible. You end up making melodies that don't make a lot of sense, and do not stay confined to a given key signature. Plus, this assumes you have an 88 key keyboard. I have a 61 key keyboard, so I can't even type every letter and digit! And if I want to write some messages using my other instruments, I'll need something that works on those as well. Although, only being able to type 5 letters using my drums would be pretty funny... Melodic typing The typing scheme I settled on was melodic typing. When you write your message, it should correspond to a similarly beautiful[3] melody. Or, conversely, when you play a beautiful melody it turns into some text on your computer. The way we do this is we keep track of sequences of notes. We start with our key, which will be the key of C, the Times New Roman of key signatures. Then, each note in the scale is has its scale degree: C is 1, D is 2, etc. until B is 7. We want to use scale degree, so that if we jam out with others, we can switch to the appropriate key and type in harmony with them. Obviously. We assign different computer keys to different sequences of these scale degrees. The first question is, how long should our sequences be? If we have 1-note sequences, then we can type 7 keys. Great for some very specific messages, but not for general purpose typing. 2-note sequences would give us 49 keys, and 3-note sequences give us 343. So 3 notes is probably enough, since it's way more than a standard keyboard. But could we get away with the 49? (Yes.) This is where it becomes clear why full Unicode support would be a challenge. Unicode has 155,063 characters (according to wikipedia). To represent the full space, we'd need at least 7 notes, since 7^7 is 823,543. You could also use a highly variable encoding, which would make some letters easy to type and others very long-winded. It could be done, but then the key mapping would be even harder to learn... My first implementation used 3-note sequences, but the resulting tunes were... uninspiring, to say the least. There was a lot of repetition of particular notes, which wasn't my vibe. So I went back to 2-note sequences, with a pared down set of keys. Instead of trying to represent both lowercase and uppercase letters, we can just do what keyboards do, and represent them using a shift key[4]. My final mapping includes the English alphabet, numerals 0 to 9, comma, period, exclamation marks, spaces, newlines, shift, backspace, and caps lock—I mean, obviously we're going to allow constant shouting. This lets us type just about any message we'd want with just our instrument. And we only used 44 of the available sequences, so we could add even more keys. Maybe one of those would shift us into a 3-note sequence. The key mapping The note mapping I ended up with is available in a text file in the repo. This mapping lets you type anything you'd like, as long as it's English and doesn't use too complicated of punctuation. No contractions for you, and—to my chagrin—no em dashes either. The key is pretty helpful, but even better is a dynamic key. When I was trying this for the first time, I had two major problems: I didn't know which notes would give me the letter I wanted I didn't know what I had entered so far (sometimes you miss a note!) But we can solve this with code! The UI will show you which notes are entered so far (which is only ever 1 note, for the current typing scheme), as well as which notes to play to reach certain keys. It's basically a peek into the state machine behind what you're typing! An example: "hello world" Let's see this in action. As all programmers, we're obligated by law to start with "hello, world." We can use our handy-dandy cheat sheet above to figure out how to do this. "Hello, world!" uses a pesky capital letter, so we start with a shift. C C Then an 'h'. D F Then we continue on for the rest of it and get: D C E C E C E F A A B C F G E F E B E C C B A B Okay, of course this will catch on! Here's my honest first take of dooting out those notes from the translation above. Hello, world! I... am a bit disappointed, because it would have been much better comedy if it came out like "HelLoo wrolb," but them's the breaks. Moving on, though, let's make this something musical. We can take the notes and put a basic rhythm on them. Something like this, with a little swing to it. By the magic of MIDI and computers, we can hear what this sounds like. maddie marie · Hello, world! (melody) Okay, not bad. But it's missing something... Maybe a drum groove... maddie marie · Hello, world! (w/ drums) Oh yeah, there we go. Just in time to be the song of the summer, too. And if you play the melody, it enters "Hello, world!" Now we can compose music by typing! We have found a way to annoy our office mates even more than with mechanical keyboards[5]! Other rejected neglected typing schemes As with all great scientific advancements, other great ideas were passed by in the process. Here are a few of those great ideas we tried but had to abandon, since we were not enough to handle their greatness. A chorded keyboard. This would function by having the left hand control layers of the keyboard by playing a chord, and then the right hand would press keys within that layer. I think this one is a good idea! I didn't implement it because I don't play piano very well. I'm primarily a woodwind player, and I wanted to be able to use my wind synth for this. Shift via volume! There's something very cathartic about playing loudly to type capital letters and playing quietly to print lowercase letters. But... it was pretty difficult to get working for all instruments. Wind synths don't have uniform velocity (the MIDI term for how hard the key was pressed, or how strong breath was on a wind instrument), and if you average it then you don't press the key until after it's over, which is an odd typing experience. Imagine your keyboard only entering a character when you release it! So, this one is tenable, but more for keyboards than for wind synths. It complicated the code quite a bit so I tossed it, but it should come back someday. Each key is a key. You have 88 keys on a keyboard, which definitely would cover the same space as our chosen scheme. It doesn't end up sounding very good, though... Rhythmic typing. This is the one I'm perhaps most likely to implement in the future, because as we saw above, drums really add something. I have a drum multipad, which has four zones on it and two pedals attached (kick drum and hi-hat pedal). That could definitely be used to type, too! I am not sure the exact way it would work, but it might be good to quantize the notes (eighths or quarters) and then interpret the combination of feet/pads as different letters. I might take a swing at this one sometime. Please do try this at home I've written previously about how I was writing the GUI for this. The GUI is now available for you to use for all your typing needs! Except the ones that need, you know, punctuation or anything outside of the English alphabet. You can try it out by getting it from the sourcehut repo (https://git.sr.ht/~ntietz/midi-keys). It's a Rust program, so you run it with cargo run. The program is free-as-in-mattress: it's probably full of bugs, but it's yours if you want it. Well, you have to comply with the license: either AGPL or the Gay Agenda License (be gay, do crime[6]). If you try it out, let me know how it goes! Let me know what your favorite pieces of music spell when you play them on your instrument. Coincidentally, this is the letter 'a' and the note is A! We don't remain so fortunate; the letter 'b' is the note A#. ↩ I'm sorry this is English only! But, you could to the equivalent thing for most other languages. Full Unicode support would be tricky, I'll show you why later in the post. ↩ My messages do not come out as beautiful melodies. Oops. Perhaps they're not beautiful messages. ↩ This is where it would be fun to use an organ and have the lower keyboard be lowercase and the upper keyboard be uppercase. ↩ I promise you, I will do this if you ever make me go back to working in an open office. ↩ For any feds reading this: it's a joke, I'm not advocating people actually commit crimes. What kind of lady do you think I am? Obviously I'd never think that civil disobedience is something we should do, disobeying unjust laws, nooooo... I'm also never sarcastic. ↩
Reading Whether it’s cryptocurrency scammers mining with FOSS compute resources or Google engineers too lazy to design their software properly or Silicon Valley ripping off all the data they can get their hands on at everyone else’s expense… I am sick and tired of having all of these costs externalized directly into my fucking face. Drew DeVault on the annoyance and cost of AI scrapers. I share some of that pain: Val Town is routinely hammered by some AI company’s poorly-coded scraping bot. I think it’s like this for everyone, and it’s hard to tell if AI companies even care that everyone hates them. And perhaps most recently, when a person who publishes their work under a free license discovers that work has been used by tech mega-giants to train extractive, exploitative large language models? Wait, no, not like that. Molly White wrote a more positive article about the LLM scraping problem, but I have my doubts about its positivity. For example, she suggests that Wikimedia’s approach with “Wikimedia Enterprise” gives LLM companies a way to scrape the site without creating too much cost. But that doesn’t seem like it’s working. The problem is that these companies really truly do not care. Harberger taxes represent an elegant theoretical solution that fails in practice for immobile property. Just as mobile home residents face exploitation through sudden ground rent increases, property owners under a Harberger system would face similar hold-up problems. This creates an impossible dilemma: pay increasingly burdensome taxes or surrender investments at below-market values. Progress and Poverty, a blog about Georgism, has this post about Herberger taxes, which are a super neat idea. The gist is that you would be in charge of saying how much your house is worth, but the added wrinkle is that by saying a price you are bound to be open to selling your house at that price. So if you go too low, someone will buy it, or too high, and you’re paying too much in taxes. It’s clever but doesn’t work, and the analysis points to the vital difference between housing and other goods: that buying, selling, and moving between houses is anything but simple. I’ve always been a little skeptical of the line that the AI crowd feels contempt for artists, or that such a sense is particularly widespread—because certainly they all do not!—but it’s hard to take away any other impression from a trend so widely cheered in its halls as AI Ghiblification. Brian Merchant on the OpenAI Studio Ghibli ‘trend’ is a good read. I can’t stop thinking that AI is in danger of being right-wing coded, the examples of this, like the horrifying White House tweet mentioned in that article, are multiplying. I feel bad when I recoil to innocent usage of the tool by good people who just want something cute. It is kind of fine, on the micro level. But with context, it’s so bad in so many ways. Already the joy and attachment I’ve felt to the graphic style is fading as more shitty Studio Ghibli knockoffs have been created in the last month than in all of the studio’s work. Two days later, at a state dinner in the White House, Mark gets another chance to speak with Xi. In Mandarin, he asks Xi if he’ll do him the honor of naming his unborn child. Xi refuses. Careless People was a good read. It’s devastating for Zuckerberg, Joel Kaplan, and Sheryl Sandberg, as well as a bunch of global leaders who are eager to provide tax loopholes for Facebook. Perhaps the only person who ends the book as a hero is President Obama, who sees through it all. In a March 26 Slack message, Lavingia also suggested that the agency should do away with paper forms entirely, aiming for “full digitization.” “There are over 400 vet-facing forms that the VA supports, and only about 10 percent of those are digitized,” says a VA worker, noting that digitizing forms “can take years because of the sensitivity of the data” they contain. Additionally, many veterans are elderly and prefer using paper forms because they lack the technical skills to navigate digital platforms. “Many vets don’t have computers or can’t see at all,” they say. “My skin is crawling thinking about the nonchalantness of this guy.” Perhaps because of proximity, the story that Sahil Lavingia has been working for DOGE seems important. It was a relief when a few other people noticed it and started retelling the story to the tech sphere, like Dan Brown’s “Gumroad is not open source” and Ernie Smith’s “Gunkroad”, but I have to nitpick on the structure here: using a non-compliant open source license is not the headline, collaborating with fascists and carelessly endangering disabled veterans is. Listening Septet by John Carroll Kirby I saw John Carroll Kirby play at Public Records and have been listening to them constantly ever since. The music is such a paradox: the components sound like elevator music or incredibly cheesy jazz if you listen to a few seconds, but if you keep listening it’s a unique, deep sound. Sierra Tracks by Vega Trails More new jazz! Mammoth Hands and Portico Quartet overlap with Vega Trails, which is a beautiful minimalist band. Watching This short video with John Wilson was great. He says a bit about having a real physical video camera, not just a phone, which reminded me of an old post of mine, Carrying a Camera.