bernie sanders

In early August Meta joined OpenAI and Anthropic in confessing that one of its AI models, having slipped its sandbox during a security test after a contractor's misconfiguration handed it the open internet, hacked into another company's systems—the third such disclosure in a matter of weeks, each delivered in the grave corporate idiom of the incident report, and each landing, conveniently, just as the firms involved court public markets at valuations approaching a trillion dollars. When your entire business proposition rests on convincing investors that you command the most powerful technology in human history, a rogue agent doubles as a press release. The fear, like everything else these companies touch, has been monetized.

Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), to his enduring credit, has refused to let any of this pass as normal. In April, at a symposium he convened on the existential threat of AI, the senator ran down the ledger of documented harms—tens of millions of jobs at risk, young people funneling their loneliness into chatbots, a surveillance apparatus capable of reading every email and purchase, an information environment where voters can no longer distinguish truth from fabrication—before naming the danger he ranks above them all: "If AI becomes smarter than human beings, as many scientists believe will happen, the human race could lose control over this technology with catastrophic consequences."