Let's Know Things

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Let's Know Things

A calm, non-shouty, non-polemical, weekly news analysis podcast for folks of all stripes and leanings who want to know more about what's happening in the world around them. Hosted by analytic journalist Colin Wright since 2016. letsknowthings.substack.com

  1. LA Wildfires

    5 DAYS AGO

    LA Wildfires

    This week we talk about the Pacific Palisades, Hurricane Katrina, and reinsurance. We also discuss developed property values, arsons, and the cost of disasters. Recommended Book: The Data Detective by Tim Harford Transcript Natural disasters, whether we’re talking about storms or fires or earthquakes, or some combination of those and other often related issues, like flooding, can be incredibly expensive. This has always been true, both in terms of lives and material damage caused, but also in terms of raw currency—the value of stuff that’s destroyed and thus has to be rebuilt, replaced, or in some rare cases partitioned off so that similar things don’t happen in the future, or because the space is just so irreparably demolished that it’s not cost effective to do anything with the land, moving forward. The four most expensive natural disasters that we’ve been able to tally—so this doesn’t include historical disasters that are far enough back that we can’t really quantify the damage, due to an inability to directly compare, or insufficient data upon which to base such quantification—the top four that we can line up against other such disasters and compare the numbers for are all earthquakes. The earthquake in Japan in 2011 that, in addition to causing a lot of damage unto itself, also caused the disaster at the Fukushima nuclear plant tops the list, with a cost at the time of around $360 billion, which would be nearly $490 billion in today’s dollars. The second most expensive natural disaster is also an earthquake in Japan, this one hitting a region called Hanshin in 1995, causing about $200 billion worth of damage in mid-90s money, which would be about $400 billion, today, and the third was an earthquake not too long ago, the 2023 quake that struck along Turkey and Syria’s border, causing something like $160 billion in damage. The fourth costliest natural disaster hit China in 2008, causing around $130 billion in damage, which is about $184 billion in today’s money. These disasters also caused a lot of casualties and deaths; about 20,000 people died in that most-costly, nuclear-incident-triggering quake, while nearly 88,000 were killed in that fourth-most-costly, Chinese one. The Great Hanshin quake, in comparison, lead to somewhere around 6,000 deaths: which is still just a staggering human loss, but it’s an order of magnitude less than in those other comparable disasters; which hints at the trend we see with these sorts of events—the scale of wounded and killed doesn’t necessarily correlate with the scale of costs associated with damaged and destroyed infrastructure and other assets. The costliest natural disaster in US history, as of the first week of 2025, at least, was Hurricane Katrina back in 2005, which all but destroyed the city of New Orleans and much of the surrounding area, causing around $125 billion in damage, which is equivalent to about $195 billion, today, but it only led to around 1,400 deaths: again, all of those deaths absolute tragedies, and any disaster that causes that many deaths is an historical event. But looking at the raw numbers, that’s a shockingly low figure compared to the sum of the monetary damages tallied; it’s actually remarkable as few people died as they did, looking at this storm and it’s impacts through that lens. What I’d like to talk about today is another natural disaster, this one ongoing as I record this, that looks primed to take the record of most-costly, in terms of money, US natural disaster from Katrina, and some of the implications of this disaster. — Part of why disasters in the US, natural or otherwise, tend to result in fewer fatalities than those that occur elsewhere is that the US is a very wealthy country with relatively high-quality and widely dispersed infrastructure. There are quibbles to be voiced about that claim, as many recent reports indicate that said infrastructure isn’t terribly well maintained, and that the country’s healthcare setup and relatively low pay and support for the sorts of people who save lives and rescue victims in the midst of such disasters raise questions about how long this will continue to be the case; some of these high-quality systems are somewhat fragile, in other words, and won’t always perform at the level they arguably should. That said, in general, when need be, US government institutions—federal and regional—are capable of throwing money at issues until they mostly go away, and they have a lot of decent resources to leverage when need-be, as well. Americans in general also have reasonable amounts of resources to call upon, on average at least, when they need to flee town and stay elsewhere for a while until a storm subsides, for instance. This is all on average, and we tend to see the gaps in that generality when disasters hit, and Katrina is a perfect example of this disaster illuminated dichotomy, as a lot of the country’s least well off people, who have arguably been let down by the system and their government in various ways, were unable to do what everyone else was capable of doing, and were thus stuck in ramshackle and dangerous accommodations, and in some cases weren’t rescued because of the nature of the infrastructure that was meant to help protect them, but which was ultimately incapable of doing so. Other people were shuttled by those entities to other parts of the country while the disaster was being handled, and some were never brought back—it was all a pretty big scandal. Looking at the averages, though, the US tends to experience disasters that are more expensive in terms of money than lives because there’s more costly infrastructure in place, more valuable assets owned by pretty much everyone, compared to many other nations around the world, at least, and folks are generally capable of getting out of the way of stuff that might kill them—at least when we’re talking about things like storms and fires. Case in point is the ongoing, as of the day I’m recording this, jumble of wildfires that are menacing, and in some cases demolishing, parts of the Greater Los Angeles area in Southern California. As of the day I’m recording this, a day before this episode goes live, there are two primary fires still spreading, designated as the Eaton and Palisades fires, those names based on the regions in which they started to flare out of control, and several smaller ones called the Kenneth, Hurst, and Lidia fires. The Palisades fire is currently the largest, having burned about 24,000 acres, followed by the Eaton, which has consumed around 14,000 acres. The Kenneth, Hurst, and Lidia fires have burned around 1,000, 800, and 400 acres, respectively. That’s…not huge. Tens of thousands of acres is a decent sized plot of land, definitely, but for comparison, the Smokehouse Creek Fire that burned through parts of Texas and Oklahoma in 2024, and which became the largest wildfire in Texas history, consumed more than 1,100,000 acres. The Park Fire, which plagued Northern California in mid-2024, is the state’s largest-ever arson-caused fire, and it consumed nearly half a million acres. So a total of just of 40,000 acres or so for this new collection of fires is piddly, within that context. The difference here is that both of those other fires consumed mostly, though not entirely, undeveloped land. And such land, while not value-less, is not the same kind of asset, in terms of dollars and cents, as heavily developed, with homes and businesses and electrical cables and roads and other such infrastructure, land tends to be. These new, Southern California fires are smaller than those other, big-name wildfires, then, but they’re also consuming some of the most expensive real estate, and the properties and other assets build atop that real estate, in the world. As of right now, the Kenneth and Lidia fires are completely contained, and the Hurst is getting there. The Eaton and Palisades fires, the two largest of the group, are still mostly uncontained, however, due in part to wild and dangerous winds that are making containment efforts difficult, in some cases preventing aerial efforts, and in others making conditions extra risky for people on the ground, due to the dynamic and quick-moving nature of things. Given all of this, and again, given that these fires are burning homes worth tens of millions of dollars, located on coastal land that’s in some case worth around the same, it’s perhaps no surprise that analysts are already projecting that these fires could cause something like $50 to $150 billion in economic losses; and for comparison, the aforementioned Camp Fire in Northern California, which also consumed some fairly expensive homes and real estate, in addition to the undeveloped park land it consumed, only tallied about $30 billion in damage, all told, while the fires that hit Hawaii in 2023 added up to just $5.7 billion. Of that $50-150 billion total, it’s estimated that around $20 billion will be covered by insurance, which represents a staggering loss for those without any, or without the proper insurance, but also potentially represents a huge loss for residents of California, as the state has an insurance of last resort scheme called the FAIR Plan, which is a privately run, but state-created entity that serves those who can’t find insurance via conventional, private insurers. And often, though not always this means those customers are in areas that are too expensive or too risky for traditional insurance companies to operate in. In practice, that usually means insurers of last resort have a portfolio full of risky bets, and the plans they offer are more expensive than usual, and tend to provide less coverage and benefits than the conventional stuff. In these sorts of situations, though, we have a whole lot of risky bets than have suddenly come up snake eyes, this FAIR Plan suddenly having to pay out billions of dollars to their customers

    21 min
  2. Lone Wolves

    JAN 7

    Lone Wolves

    This week we talk about Luigi Mangione, VAW attacks, and mass shootings. We also discuss stochastic violence, terrorism, and Cybertrucks. Recommended Book: Some Desperate Glory by Emily Tesh Transcript The terms “Lone Wolf,” “Lone Wolf Actor,” and “Lone Wolf Killer” are interchangeably used in many countries—though most commonly and prominently in the United States—to describe someone who commits a mass-killing or other mass-casualty event, but who is not part of an organization like a terrorist group or other criminal network like a gang. The term is hotly contested in the scholarly world, as it’s applied loosely and inconsistently, and the definition varies somewhat by location, government, law enforcement entity investigating said killings, and the press reporting upon it. But in general, to be defined as a mass-casualty event or mass-killing, a collection of murders must occur in public—so it can’t be a person killing their family at home, for instance—it must involve at least four victims—so someone killing or injuring three strangers in a public place will typically not be categorized in this way—and it must not occur as part of another crime, like a robbery gone wrong, or as part of a larger conflict between two rival gangs. Within this context of mass-killings and mass-casualty attacks, a lone wolf is someone who acts solo, the term originating with the concept of a wolf that has been separated from, or perhaps outcast from its pack. Someone who kills a bunch of people at the instruction of a terrorist organization like ISIS, then, would not be considered a lone wolf, even if they committed the act without any direct aid from that group; though this definition is wobbly even in that regard, as someone who takes inspiration from a group like ISIS, committing a mass-killing to support that group’s cause, but not directly connected to the group, might be labeled a lone wolf, or not. And there’s no hard-set rule as to which definition is correct. This was a somewhat common issue back in the late-20th century, when many so-called lone wolf terrorists were committing acts of violence in support of anarchist ends, but the anarchist groups from which they derived their inspiration, and in some cases with which they collaborated, were leaderless by nature—so it couldn’t really be said that they were instructed to carry out these acts, they were just inspired by these fellow ideological travelers, and that made determining whether they acted on their own behest or not a tricky and perhaps impossible undertaking; a lot of it is semantics. Also confounding the simple categorization of such killers and attacks is the concept of stochastic terrorism, which is a type of violence that is almost always political or ideological in nature, as opposed to being revenge-driven or otherwise personal, and it’s generally incited by someone with a public persona—a politician or other leader—who creates an environment in which violence is more likely to occur, that violence seemingly random, but on average directed in a specific direction. So a politician who says something like “Man, people from the opposing party really believe some horrible stuff, I wouldn’t be surprised if something happened to them, considering how evil they are,” while at the same time stoking the flames of potential violence throughout the population by increasing animosity between political parties and maybe even religious groups, might be aiming to spark stochastic terror that would benefit them and their ambitions. By riling up their base in this way, by sowing the seeds for potential attacks against their perceived enemies, violence in their favor, aimed at those enemies, is more likely to happen, but in a way that’s deniable for them—just a random act of ideological murder that they can denounce, despite arguably having asymmetrically instigated it. Is stochastic terror an example of planting seeds for violence that makes the resultant killings something more like directed attacks, and therefore not lone wolf in nature, then? Or are all lone wolves arguably inspired by something they’ve learned or experienced or been told, and thus arguably stochastic in nature—no direct guidance or instruction, but still inspired by someone or something, somewhere along the way? What I’d like to talk about today are three instances of recent supposedly lone wolf attacks, and why some experts are predicting we’ll see more such attacks, especially but not exclusively in the US, in the coming years. — There were nearly 500 officially recognized mass-shootings in the US in 2024—and again, that means 4 or more people injured or killed in public, and not as part of another crime being committed. That’s down from previous years, the preceding four of which have each had more than 600 mass shootings, and on average a little less than 10 people are killed in these shootings—though that figure is nudged upward by the largest of these mass killings, like one in Las Vegas in 2017 that saw 60 people killed and more than 800 wounded, many in the resulting stampede, by a 64-year-old seemingly lone wolf gunman who fired on an open-air music festival from the 32nd floor window of a nearby hotel. Gun homicides in the US are rampant beyond mass-killings: there were about 21,000 murders committed with guns in the country in 2021, alone—and notably, self-inflicted gun deaths, suicides using these weapons, eclipse that number, tallying more than 26,000 that same year. That means more than 50 people are killed by guns in the US every single day, and about 4 out of every 5 murders are committed using guns in the country; which makes sense, as guns are very effective at what they’re meant to do, which is killing something, and there are a lot of guns in the US: about 120 of them per 100 people, as of 2018. And to be clear, that doesn’t mean everyone owns a gun: that average is driven sky-high by the gun-enthusiasts who tend to buy a lot of the things, though gun ownership has continued to increase in scope in recent years, as political and economic uncertainty, especially in areas where perception of crime levels, if not always actual elevated crime levels, increases, tends to drive more widespread gun sales. Given all of that, it’s maybe not a huge surprise that many apparent lone wolf attacks in the United States are committed using firearms; sometimes assault rifles, sometimes guns that have been augmented using bump-stocks or similar add-ons to make a normal gun into basically an assault rifle, and sometimes just using a pistol, which can be easily pocketed and carried around pretty much everywhere in this country. On December 4, 2024, the CEO of UnitedHealthcare, which is part of the largest health insurance company in the United States, UnitedHealth Group, Brian Thompson, was gunned down in front of the Midtown Manhattan Hilton Hotel. The alleged killer, who was later identified by law enforcement officials as Luigi Mangione, was captured on nearby CCTV cameras, was wearing a hoodie and an expensive backpack while shooting Thompson, and used a pistol with a suppressor—a silencer—to shoot him multiple times, the bullet casings left behind inscribed with the words Delay, Deny, and Depose; terms that have been associated with the US health insurance industry for legal tactics they lean on in order to pocket more money, allegedly at the expense of their customers who have their claims denied or long-term delayed, in some cases leaving them without the care they require, and in some cases leaving them in crippling debt following a necessary medical procedure that the insurance company says they won’t pay for. The response to killings of any kind, even in a gun-happy country like the US, tends to be fairly grim and sad; the endless mutterings of “thoughts and prayers” by politicians and other public figures has become so common and toothless as to be near-satire at this point, but generally the tone is antagonistic toward whomever committed the killing, before then swinging toward calls for more security and policing if you’re on the political right, and more gun regulation if you’re on the political left. And that’s generally where we leave things until the next headlines-capturing shooting; and we typically, unfortunately, don’t have long to wait. Thompson’s murder, though, was almost immediately met with celebration across the political spectrum; working class folks, Democrats and Republicans and everyone in between and on the furthest political extremes basically muttering about how it serves him right, before realizing everyone else was muttering the same thing, and that led to outright enthusiasm, especially online, and even calls for more of the same across the social media landscape—many normal people doing the politician and ideologue thing by basically posting their hopes that someone will knock off other CEOs as well, seemingly aiming to spark more stochastic violence in their favored direction. The wealthy and especially the CEO class were horrified at this response, perhaps understandably, and there was pushback from mainstream journalistic and political entities across the board, with lots of tut-tutting and finger-wagging at anyone who dared celebrate what looked to be the cold-blooded murder of another human being. But the nature of American healthcare and especially health insurance being what it is—massively imperfect at least, and by some assessments borderline abusive or even outright evil—this was seen by many as just desserts for someone who himself had committed millions of dollars worth of fraud and gotten away with it, and who was running UnitedHealthcare in such a way that it denies more claims than any of its peers, which in turn has allowed itself to massively enrich itself and its shareholders at the expense of its customers. There were many cries of “serv

    23 min
  3. South Korean Tumult

    12/17/2024

    South Korean Tumult

    This week we talk about Yoon, martial law, and impeachment. We also discuss the PPP, chaebol, and dictators. Recommended Book: Starter Villain by John Scalzi Transcript In the wake of WWII, Korea—which was previously held by the recently-defeated Japanese Empire—was split into two countries, the north backed by the Soviet Union and the south backed by the United States and its allies. North Korea had a guerrilla fighter and staunch Soviet-style communism activist, Kim Il Sung, placed at the head of its new government, while South Korea was to be led by a longtime local politician named Syngman Rhee, who had run the country earlier, from 1919 until 1925, at which point he was impeached, and then again in 1947-1948, as head of the country’s post-war provisional government. Rhee was a hardcore Korean independence activist during a period when the Japanese were clamping down on their mainland holdings and doing away with anyone who caused trouble or sparked anti-colonial protests, so he spent some time in exile, in China, returned to the US, where he was educated, for a bit, and then the US military returned him to Korea to run that provisional government once the dust had settled and the Japanese had been ousted from the area. Rhee was an ideal representative in the region by American standards, in some ways, as he was vehemently anti-communist, even to the point of killing and supporting the killing of something like 100,000 communist sympathizers during an uprising on South Korea’s Jeju Island. He was president when North Korea invaded, sparking the Korean War, and then refused to sign the armistice that would have formally ended the conflict in 1953, because he believed the only solution to the conflict between these nations was a military one, and he held out hope that the South would someday conquer the North and unify Korea as a nation, once more. Rhee then won reelection in 1956, and changed the country’s constitution to allow him to remain in office, getting rid of the two-term limit—which was not a popular move, but it worked, and he was able to run uncontested in 1960, because his opponent died of cancer in the lead-up to the election—though his opposition protested the results, claiming a rigged voting process, and this led to a huge movement by students in the country, which became known as the April Revolution; students were shot by police while protesting during this period, and that ultimately led to Rhee stepping down that same year, 1960. So Rhee was a western-educated, christian conservative who was vehemently anti-communist, though also living in a part of the world in which an aggressive communist dictatorship recently invaded, and was threatening to do so again—so it could be argued his paranoia was more justified than in other parts of the world that had similar frenzied moments and governments during the cold war, though of course the violence against innocent citizens was impossible to justify even for him and his government; his authoritarian rule was brought to an end following that shooting of student protestors, and that left a power vacuum in the country, and South Korea saw 13 months of infighting and instability before a General named Park Chung Hee launched a coup that put him in charge. Park positioned himself as president, and he did pretty well in terms of economic growth and overall national development—at this point the South was way behind the North in pretty much every regard—but he was also an out-and-out dictator who ruled with an iron fist, and in 1972 he put an entirely new constitution into effect that allowed him to keep running for president every six years, in perpetuity, no term limits, and which gave the president, so himself, basically unlimited, unchecked powers. The presence of a seemingly pretty capable, newly empowered dictator helped South Korea’s economy, manufacturing base, and infrastructure develop at an even more rapid pace than before, though his nearly 18-year presidency was also defined by the oppression he was able to leverage against anyone who said anything he didn’t like, who challenged him in any way, and who spoke out of turn against the things he wanted to do, or the constitution that allowed him to do all those things. In 1979, he was assassinated, and there’s still a lot of speculation as to the why of the killing—the assassin was in Park’s orbit, and was seemingly doing okay as part of that all-powerful government entity—but alongside speculation that it might have been planned by the US, in order to keep South Korea from developing a nuclear weapon, that it might have been the result of political jealousy, and that if might have been just an impulsive act by someone who was done being pushed around by a bully, it’s also possible that the perpetrator was a democracy activist who wanted to get a successful and long-ruling dictator out of the way. Whatever the actual catalyst was, the outcome was more political upheaval, which by the end of the year, we’re still in 1979, led to yet another military coup. This new coup leader was General Chun Doo-hwan, and he implemented martial law across the whole of the country by mid-year, as he ascended to the role of president, and he cracked down on democracy movements that erupted across the country pretty violently. Chun held onto power for nearly 8 years, ruling as a dictator, like his predecessor, until 1987, when a student democracy activist was tortured to death by his security forces. This torture was revealed to the country by a group of pro-democracy catholic priests in June of that year, and that sparked what became known as the June Democratic Struggle, which led to the June 29 Declaration, which was an announcement by the head of the ruling party—so the head of the party the dictatorial president belonged to, the Democratic Justice Party—that the next presidential vote would allow for the direct election of the president. That party leader, Roh Tae-woo, very narrowly won the election, and his term lasted from 1988 until 1993; and during his tenure, the country entered the UN, that was in 1991, and his presidency is generally considered to be a pivotal moment for the country, as while he was technically from the same party as the previous ruler, a dictator, he distanced himself and his administration from his precursor during the election, and he abided by that previously enforced two-term limit. By 1996, things had changed a lot in the country, the government fully recalibrating toward democratic values, and those previous rulers—the dictator Chun and his ally-turned-democratic reformer, Roh—were convicted for their corruption during the Chun administration, and for their mass-killings of pro-democracy protestors during that period, as well. Both were pardoned by the new president, but both were also quite old, so this was seen as a somewhat expedient political maneuver without a lot of downsides, as neither was really involved in politics or capable of causing much damage at that point in their lives. In the years since, especially since the turn of the century, South Korea has become one of the world’s most successful economies, but also a flourishing example of democratic values; there are still some remnants of those previous setups, including the government’s tight ties with the so-called chaebol, or “rich family” companies, which were business entities propped up by government support, which were often given monopoly rights that other businesses didn’t enjoy, as part of a government effort to pull the country out of agrarianism back in the mid-20th century; companies like Hyundai, Samsung, and LG thus enjoy outsized economic power, to this day, alongside a whole lot of political influence in the country, as a result of this setup, which is a holdover from those earlier, dictatorial times. But South Korea has generally erred toward rule of law since the late-1990s, even to the point of punishing their most powerful elected leaders, like President Park, who was accused of corruption, bribery, and influence-peddling, by removing her from office, then sentencing her to 24 years in jail. What I’d like to talk about today, though, is a recent seeming abuse of power at a pretty staggering level in South Korean governance, and the consequences of that abuse for the country and for the abuser. — In March of 2022, Yoon Suk Yeol, a conservative candidate of the People Power Party, who was hoping to oust the incumbent Democratic Party from office, won the narrowest victory in South Korea history. In his previous role as the chief of the Seoul Central District Prosecutor’s Office, Yoon was partly responsible for convicting former President Park for her abuses of power, and his public disagreements with President Moon, who appointed him as Prosecutor General of the country in 2019, led to his popularity in conservative circles, in turn leading to his ascension as a candidate in 2021. Yoon ran on a conservative platform that’s become familiar in elections around the world in recent decades; basically deregulation paired with culture-war issues, like doing away with government support for gender equality and other often politically liberal efforts of that nature. He won the election by less than a percentage point, and his tenure is office has not been favorably reviewed by democratic watchdogs, which have noted various sorts of corruption and democratic backsliding under his watch, and economic and policy analysts consider his administration to have been a somewhat ineffectual one. Yoon’s tenure, like his candidacy, was also plagued by gaffes and seeming missteps. He tried to raise the country’s maximum weekly working hours from 52 to 69, though he pulled back on this idea after a huge wave of backlash from young people. He was also criticized for having just three women in his government, and two among his vice-ministerial level of

    21 min
  4. Assad Overthrown

    12/10/2024

    Assad Overthrown

    This week we talk about coups, the Arab Spring, and Bashar al-Assad. We also discuss militias, Al Qaeda, and Iran. Recommended Book: The Algebraist by Iain M. Banks Transcript In the early 2010s, a series of uprisings against unpopular, authoritarian governments spread across the Middle East—a wave of action that became known as the Arab Spring. Tunisia was where it started, a man setting himself on fire in protest against the nation’s brazenly corrupt government and all that he’d suffered under that government, and the spreading of this final gesture on social media, which was burgeoning at the time, amplified by the still relatively newfound availability and popularity of smartphones, the mobile internet, and the common capacity to share images and videos of things as they happen to folks around the world via social media, led to a bunch of protests and riots and uprisings in Jordan, Egypt, Yemen, and Algeria, initially, before then spreading to other, mostly Arab majority, mostly authoritarian-led nations. The impact of this cascade of unrest in this region was immediately felt; within just two years, by early 2012, those ruling Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, and Yemen had been toppled, there were attempts to topple the Bahraini and Syrian governments, there were massive protests in Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Morocco, Oman, Algeria, and Sudan, and relatively minor protests, which were still meaningful because of the potential punishments for folks who rocked the boat in these countries, smaller protests erupted in Djibouti, Western Sahara, Saudi Arabia, Palestine, and Mauritania. Several rulers and their ruling parties committed to stepping down soon, or to not run for reelection—some of them actually stuck with that commitment, though others rode out this period of tumult and then quietly backtracked. Some nations saw long-lasting periods of unrest following this eruption; Jordan had trouble keeping a government in office for years, for instance, while Yemen overthrew its government in 2012 and 2015, and that spun-out into a civil war between the official government and the Iran-backed Houthis, which continues today, gumming up the Red Sea and significantly disrupting global shipping as a consequence. What I’d like to talk about today, though, is another seriously disruptive sequence of events that have shaped the region, and a lot of things globally, as well, since the first sparks of what became the Arab Spring—namely, the Syrian Civil war—and some movement we’ve seen in this conflict over the past week that could result in a dramatically new state of affairs across the region. — In 1963, inspired by their brethren’s successful coup in nearby Iraq, the military wing of the Arab nationalist Ba’ath party of Syria launched a coup against the country’s post-colonial democratic government, installing in its stead a totalitarian party-run government. One of the leaders of this coup, Hafez al-Assad, became the country’s president in 1971, which basically meant he was the all-powerful leader of a military dictatorship, and he used those powers to even further consolidate his influence over the mechanisms of state, which meant he also had the ability to name his own successor. He initially planned to install his brother as leader when he stepped down or died, but that brother attempted to overthrow him when he was ill in 1983 and 1984, so when he got better, he exiled said brother and chose his eldest son, Bassel al-Assad, instead. Bassel died in a car accident in 1994, though, so Hafez was left with his third choice, Bashar al-Assad, which wasn’t a popular choice, in part because it was considered not ideal for him to choose a family member, rather than someone else from the leading party, but also because Bashar had no political experience at the time, so this was straight-up nepotism: the only reason he was selected was that he was family. In mid-2000, Hafez died, and Bashar stepped into the role of president. The next few years were tumultuous for the new leader, who faced heightened calls for more transparency in the government, and a return to democracy, or some form of it at least, in Syria. This, added to Bashar’s lack of influence with his fellow party members, led to a wave of retirements and purgings amongst the government and military higher-ups—those veteran politicians and generals replaced by loyalists with less experience and credibility. He then made a series of economic decisions that were really good for the Assad family and their allies, but really bad for pretty much everyone else in the country, which made him and his government even less popular with much of the Syrian population, even amongst those who formerly supported his ascension and ambitions. All of this pushback from the people nudged Bashar al-Assad into implementing an increasingly stern police state, which pitted various ethnic and religious groups against each other in order to keep them from unifying against the government, and which used terror and repression to slap down or kill anyone who stood up to the abuse. When the Arab Spring, which I mentioned in the intro, rippled across the Arab world beginning in 2011, protestors in Syria were treated horribly by the Assad government—the crackdown incredibly violent and punitive, even compared to that of other repressive, totalitarian governments in the region. This led to more pushback from Syrian citizens, who began to demand, with increasing intensity, that the Assad-run government step down, and that the Ba’athists running the dictatorship be replaced by democratically elected officials. This didn’t go over well with Assad, who launched a campaign of even more brutal, violent crackdowns, mass arrests, and the torture and execution of people who spoke out on this subject—leading to thousands of confirmed deaths, and tens of thousands of people wounded by government forces. This response didn’t go over super well with the people, and these protests and the pushback against them spiraled into a full-on civil uprising later in 2011, a bunch of people leaving the Syrian military to join the rebels, and the country breaking up into pieces, each chunk of land controlled by a different militia, some of these militias working well together, unifying against the government, while others also fought other militias—a remnant of the military government’s efforts to keep their potential opposition fighting each other, rather than them. This conflict was officially declared a civil war by the UN in mid-2012, and the UN and other such organizations have been fretting and speaking out about the human rights violations and other atrocities committed during this conflict ever since, though little has been done by external forces, practically, to end it—instead it’s become one of many proxy conflicts, various sides supported, mostly with weapons and other resources, though sometimes with training, and in rare instances with actual soldiers on the ground, by the US, Turkey, Russia, Iran, the Iran-backed group Hezbollah, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Britain, France, Israel, and the Netherlands. This conflict has demanded the country’s full attention for more than a decade, then, and it’s had influence even beyond Syria’s borders, as groups like the Islamic State, or ISIS has been able to grow and flourish within Syria, due to all the chaos and lack of stability, refugees from Syria have flooded across borders, fleeing the violence and causing all sorts of unintended disruptions in neighboring and even some further-afield countries where, in some cases, millions of these refugees have had to be taken care of, which in turn has influenced immigration-related politics even as far away as the European Union. Also due to that lack of internal control, crime has flourished in Syria, including drug-related crime. And that’s lets to a huge production and distribution network for an illegal, almost everywhere, amphetamine called Captagon, which is addictive, and the pills often contain dangerous filler chemicals that are cheaper to produce. This has increased drug crime throughout the region, and the Syrian government derives a substantial amount of revenue from these illicit activities—it’s responsible for about 80% of global Captagon production, as of early 2024. All of which brings us to late-2024. By this point, Syria had been broken up into about seven or eight pieces, each controlled by some militia group or government, while other portions—which make up a substantial volume of the country’s total landmass—are considered to be up in the air, no dominant factions able to claim them. Al-Assad’s government has received a fair bit of support, both in terms of resources, and in terms of boots on the ground, from Iran and Russia, over the years, especially in the mid-20-teens. And due in large part to that assistance, his forces were able to retake most of the opposition’s strongholds by late 2018. There was a significant ceasefire at the tail-end of 2019, which lasted until March of 2020. This ceasefire stemmed from a successful operation launched by the Syrian government and its allies, especially Iran, Russia, and Hezbollah, against the main opposition and some of their allies—basically a group of different rebel factions that were working together against Assad, and this included groups backed by the Turkish government. On March 5, 2020, Turkish President Erdogan and Russian President Putin, which were backing opposite sides of this portion of the Syrian civil war, agreed on a ceasefire that began the following day, which among other things included a safety corridor along a major highway, separating the groups from each other, that corridor patrolled by soldiers from Turkey and Russia. This served to end most frontline fighting, as these groups didn’t want to start fighting these much larger, more powerful nations—Russia and Turkey—while tr

    20 min
  5. COP 29

    12/03/2024

    COP 29

    This week we talk about emissions, carbon credits, and climate reparations. We also discuss Baku, COP meetings, and petrostates. Recommended Book: The Struggle for Taiwan by Sulmaan Wasif Khan Transcript In 2016, a group of 195 nations signed the Paris Agreement under the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, usually just called the Paris Agreement, which was negotiated the previous year, and which, among other things, formalized the idea of attempting to keep the global average temperature from increasing by 1.5 C, which is about 2.7 F, above pre-industrial levels. The really bad stuff, climate-wise, was expected to happen at around 2 degrees C above that pre-industrial level, so the 1.5 degrees cutoff made sense as sort of a breakwater meant to protect humanity and the natural world from the most devastating consequences of human-amplified climate change. This has served decently well as a call-to-arms for renewable energy projects and other efforts meant to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and many nations have actually made really solid strides in that direction since this agreement was formalized, dramatically truncating their emissions in a variety of ways, while also laying the groundwork for long-term reductions by installing a whole lot of solar and wind, reviving old and building new nuclear power facilities, reinforcing and expanding their grids, including adding all sorts of large-scale battery storage, and figuring out ways to reduce energy consumption, which has allowed for the shut-down of coal and oil plants. Shorter-term solutions, like replacing more polluting and emitting sources of energy, like coal, with gas, have also put a big dent in overall global emissions, especially for entities like the US and Europe; this isn’t ideal as a permanent measure, because there are still a lot of emissions associated with gas, especially its transport, because of leakage, and gas itself, in the atmosphere, has really significant greenhouse properties, but in the short-term this has proven to be one of the most impactful solutions for some nations and large corporations, and it’s increasingly being seen as a transitionary measure, even by those who oppose the use of any fossil fuels long-term. Things have been going decently well, then, even if progress is still far short of where it needs to be for most countries to meet their Paris Agreement commitments, and far slower than many people who are watching this space, and analyzing whether we’ll be able to avoid triggering those much-worse climate outcomes, would prefer. One issue we’re running into, now, is that those original commitments were a little fuzzy, as the phrase “preindustrial period” could mean many different periods, even if it’s commonly assumed to be something like 1850 to 1900, in the lead-up to humanity’s full-on exploitation of fossil fuels and the emergence of what we might call the modern era—society empowered by things like coal and oil and gas, alongside the full deployment of electrical grids. Throughout this period, though, from the mid-19th century to today, the climate has experienced huge swings year to year, and decade to decade. The evidence showing that we humans are throwing natural systems way off their equilibrium are very clear at this point, and it isn’t a question of whether we’re changing the climate—it’s more a question of how much, how quickly, and compared to what; what baseline are we actually using, because even during that commonly used 1850 to 1900 span of time, the climate fluctuated a fair bit, so it’s possible to pick and choose baseline numbers from a range of them depending on what sort of picture you want to paint. Research from the World Meteorological Organization in 2022 found that, as of that year, we were probably already something like 1.15 degrees C above preindustrial levels, but that it was hard to tell because La Niña, a weather phenomenon that arises periodically, alongside its opposite, El Niño, had been cooling things down and dampening the earth-warming impacts of human civilization for about three years. They estimated, taking La Niña’s impact into consideration, that the world would probably bypass that breakwater 1.5 degrees C milestone sometime in the next four years—though this bypassing might be temporary, as global temperatures would increase for a few years because of the emergence of El Niño. Adding to the complexity of this calculation is that aforementioned variability in the climate, region to region, and globally. The WMO estimated that through 2027, the world is likely to fluctuate between 1.1 and 1.8 degrees C above preindustrial levels—and that at that higher range, El Niño might tip things into the especially dangerous 2 degree C territory the Paris Agreement was supposed to help us avoid. By late-2024, it was becoming increasingly obvious that the world had stepped past the 1.5 degrees threshold into unfamiliar climactic terrain. Three of the five leading research groups that keep tabs on this matter have said that in addition to 2024 being the warmest year on record, it will also be the first year we’ve ever surpassed that 1.5 degree level. Notably, simply popping up above 1.5 degrees doesn’t suggest we’re now permanently living in that long worried about climate nightmarish world: there are significant, normal fluctuations in this kind of thing, alongside those associated with the El Niño/La Niña patterns; there are a lot of variables acting upon our climate, in other words, in addition to the human variables that are pushing those averages and fluctuating ranges up, over time. The concern here, though, even if we drop back down below 1.5 degrees C for a while is that this temperature band opens up a whole new spectrum of weather-related consequences, ranging from substantial, persistent, crop-killing, barely survivable heat and drought in some parts of the world, to things like larger, more frequent, and more difficult to predict storm systems, like the ones we’ve already seen in abundance this and last year, but bigger and wilder and in more areas that don’t typically see such storms. What I’d like to talk about today is what happened at a recent climate-policy focused meeting, COP29, and the international response to that meeting. — The United Nations Conference of the Parties of the UN Climate Change Conference, or COP meetings, are held every year in a different host country, and they’re meant to serve as a formal space where governments can present their goals and boast of their climate-related accomplishments. They also serve as a platform for negotiations related to things like emissions standards and goal-setting, like that aforementioned 1.5 degrees C temperature level we’ve been trying to avoid hitting. The most recent of these meetings, COP29, was held in Baku, the capitol of Azerbaijan, in mid- to late-November of 2024. And that location was pretty controversial from the get-go because Azerbaijan is a petro-state: its authoritarian government basically funded and sustained by the sale of oil and gas, all of which flows through a state-owned, corruption-laden, local elite-profiting energy company. This isn’t the first time a full-on petro-state has hosted a COP meeting, as COP28 was held in Dubai, in the UAE, which was also controversial. But this one was seen as a step even further toward what might read as the appropriation or capture of the COP meetings for the benefit of fossil fuel entities, as the meeting was partly hosted by so-called official partners, which were fossil fuel business interests directly owned by the country’s president, while others weren’t directly owned, but were connected to his family’s other businesses, all of them thus linked to both authoritarian corruption, and the wealth associated with fossil fuel focused economics. As a result, there were allegations that this whole meeting was premised on providing a notorious source of greenhouse gas emissions, which has every reason to try to keep those emitting products available for as long as possible, a venue for greenwashing their efforts, while also giving them the power to moderate discussions related to global emissions targets and other climate change-oriented issues; a major conflict of interest, basically. The Azerbaijani president, leading up to the meeting, countered that critiques of his country’s government and human rights record and prominence as a fossil fuel exporter were all part of a smear campaign, and that these unwarranted, preemptive criticisms wouldn’t stop those running COP29 from achieving their goal of helping the world “cope with the negative impacts of climate change.” That statement, too, was criticized, as it implies fossil fuel are more interested in pushing the world to adapt to a climate change and its impacts, rather than attempting to halt the emissions that are causing said climate change; many such companies seem keen to keep pumping oil and burning coal and gas forever, in other words, and their efforts in this regard thus tend to orient around figuring out what the new, warmer, more chaotic world looks like, rather than entertaining the idea of changing their business model in any substantial way. So leading up to this meeting, expectations were low, and by some estimates and according to some analysis, those low expectations were met. Article 6 of the Paris Agreement was a big topic of discussion, for instance, as this article outlines how countries can cooperate with each other to reach their climate targets—and this collaboration is predicated on a carbon credit system. So if County A reduces their emissions by more than the targets set by this group, they can sell the gap, the amount of carbon equivalents not emitted into the atmosphere, to Country B, which failed to reach its targets, but which can bring its emissions into accord by acquiring those

    21 min
  6. Bluesky

    11/26/2024

    Bluesky

    This week we talk about Mastodon, Threads, and twttr. We also discuss social platform clones, user exoduses, and communication fractures. Recommended Book: Invisible Rulers by Renée DiResta Transcript In 2006, a prototype of a software project called twttr, t-w-t-t-r, was developed by Jack Dorsey and Florian Weber, that name used because the full twitter.com domain, the word with all its vowels, was already owned and in use, and because the vowel-less version of the word only had five letters, which aligned with SMS short codes for the US, which were basically shorthand versions of telephone numbers that were used in lieu of such numbers by mobile network operators at the time. Going without vowels was also super trendy in Silicon Valley back then, due to the flourishing of online success stories like Flickr. Twitter, in that early incarnation, was meant to be a one-to-many SMS service, which means sending text messages from one phone to multiple phones, rather than one to one, which was the default. This early prototype was used internally at Odeo, which was an early-2000s web-based media directory, founded by some of the same people who eventually founded Twitter as a company, and random fun fact, Kevin Systrom who eventually cofounded Instagram, was an intern at Odeo one summer, back in 2005, before the company was sold in 2007. Twitter was spun out as its own company the same year Odeo was sold, and by 2009 it had become the hot new thing in the burgeoning world of the web—folks were sending tens of thousands of tweets, messages that were shared one-to-many, though online, on the web, instead of via SMS, by the end of 2007, and that was up to 50 million a day by early 2010. The whole concept of Twitter, then, from its name, which was initially predicated on SMS short codes, to its famous 140-character limit, was based on earlier technology, that of text messages, and that sort of limitation—which has in the years since been messed with a bit, the company slowly adding more capabilities, including the sharing of images and videos and other media types—but those limitations have in part helped define this platform from its peers, as while Facebook expanded and expanded and expanded to gobble up all of its general-purpose social networking competitors, Instagram dominated the photo-posting space, and YouTube has locked down the long-form video world for more than a decade, twitter held its own as a less-sprawling, less successful by most metrics, but arguably more influential network because it was a place that was optimized for concision and up-to-the-minute conversation, as opposed to every other possible thing it could be. This meant that while it didn’t have the same billion-plus user base, and it didn’t have the ever-growing ad-revenue that Meta’s platforms could claim, it was almost always the more culturally relevant network, its users sharing more up-to-date information, its communities generating more memes, which were then spread to other networks days or weeks later, and it became a hotbed of debate and exclusive information from journalists, politicians, and business owners. A lot changed when Tesla and SpaceX owner Elon Musk bought the network in October of 2022, changing the name to X in mid-2023, and pivoting the company dramatically in basically every way: removing a lot of those earlier limitations, cutting the number of employees by something like 80%, and losing a lot of advertisers because of his many ideological statements and political stances—including his backing of former president and now president-elect Donald Trump in the 2024 election. What I’d like to talk about today are the twitter clones that have popped up in recent years, and one in particular that, despite its still-small size and arguable underdog status, is being heralded as the possible successor of Twitter—in that original, influential and scrappy sense—and what makes this network, Bluesky, different from other would-be successors in this space. — The leadership at X, including owner Musk, recently promoted a new feature on the app that refocuses attention away from buttons like likes and shares in favor of views—a metric of engagement that some analysts have claimed is meant to conceal the fact that the network is seeing a lot less actual, human engagement, and because it feeds people posts it wants them to see, this change allows them to artificially inflate the seeming activity on these posts for advertising purposes: they can say, hey look how much attention these posts are getting, please buy some ads, and that allows them to charge a higher price than if they were using those more conventional engagement metrics, which are apparently collapsing. As a company, X has been hemorrhaging money since Musk took over, its ad revenue, which makes up the majority of its income, dropping by nearly half from 2022 to 2023, and it lost another 24% from the first half of 2023 to the first half of 2024. One estimate released in November of 2024 suggests that X may have missed out on nearly $6 billion in lost ad revenue since Musk took over in 2022, mostly because of all the decisions he’s made—including basically going to war with many of the company’s top advertisers, publicly criticizing and threatening them for not paying more and buying more ads—but also his many foot-in-mouth statements and, at times, support of extremist causes and characters. He’s attempted to bring some of those advertisers back, with mixed success, as the ones that have returned after boycotts have usually invested far less than in the past, and most of the ad-buyers that have filled the gaps are paying a lot less per ad unit than before, and are generally of a lower quality: a lot of cheaply products from low-grade Chinese factories, scams of various sorts, and/or products sold by companies that are politically conservative culture-warriors, aimed at the network’s increasingly right-leaning and far-right audience; a bit like what we’ve seen on Fox News over the past decade or so, following waves of sexual assault and other scandals on that network, which led to similar advertiser exoduses. It’s also been estimated that the network lost a substantial portion of its total user-base following Musk’s takeover, including something like a third of all users in the UK and around a fifth in the United States, all just in 2024, up till the month of September. That loss of revenue and users was enough to cause Fidelity, which owns a multi-million-dollar stake in X, to write down the value of its investment by more than 75%; in July of 2024, it estimated the company, which was purchased for about $44 billion by Musk was only worth about $9.4 billion; a substantial loss for them and their investment, but also for all other shareholders. All of which leads up to what happened in the wake of the US’s most recent presidential election, during which Musk shelled out more than $100 million to support Trump’s campaign, while also pulling out all the stops to promote the former president on X—something that many users weren’t too keen on, as the owners of other social networks have been criticized and threatened in the past for showing any hint of political bias in their business decisions or personal life, and this was incredibly overt. This heavy-handed biasing of the network toward Trump, and that very public support of the candidate by X’s owner, sparked a new exodus from the platform, some people simply quitting social media entirely, at least for a while, but others looking for something of the same, and thus checking out the twitter-clones that have popped up over the past handful of years; the majority of which only actually gained real momentum in the wake of Musk’s takeover and rebranding of the network a few years ago. One of those twitter-alternatives, Mastodon, attracted a lot of early attention because of what it offered that twitter, and other mainstream social networks, did not: an open source platform based on the ActivityPub protocol, which means it can connected to other ActivityPub-capable social networks. So in theory at least, you can have a profile on a Mastodon instance—which a self-hosted Mastodon network, a social platform island of sorts that is connected to other such islands, the totality of the social network made up of a huge number of such instances, all interconnected in various ways, and each offering different rules and focuses—you can have that profile on that island function on other networks beyond Mastodon, as well. And that’s interesting because it means your work, your posts and conversations, are all more portable, allowing you to move to different networks if you choose, without losing your history and connections and credibility, because it’s all compatible with other networks. So it’s almost like having a Facebook profile that you can also use on Twitter and Instagram and YouTube, if all those networks played well together and shared information and post types between each other; that’s the promise of a protocol like ActivityPub and a network like Mastodon. Mastodon was made public in 2016 as a nonprofit, has basically the same feature-set as pre-Musk twitter, and while it had already gained a steady stream of users from previous upsets at networks like Twitter, Facebook, and Tumblr, among other more mainstream networks, it attained a huge number of new users in 2022 on the news that Musk would be taking over Twitter, hitting around 2.5 million monthly active users by the end of that year. That number has since dropped to just under a million as of September 2024, suggesting that the initial wave of enthusiasm has crested; though the platform continues to see a lot of support within some online communities, and its interactivity with other networks, including Meta’s Threads, which has also added ActivityPub functionality, means that its numbers will always

    21 min
  7. AI Scaling Walls

    11/19/2024

    AI Scaling Walls

    This week we talk about neural networks, AGI, and scaling laws. We also discuss training data, user acquisition, and energy consumption. Recommended Book: Through the Grapevine by Taylor N. Carlson Transcript Depending on whose numbers you use, and which industries and types of investment those numbers include, the global AI industry—that is, the industry focused on producing and selling artificial intelligence-based tools—is valued at something like a fifth to a quarter of a trillion dollars, as of halfway through 2024, and is expected to grow to several times that over the next handful of years, that estimate ranging from two or three times, to upward of ten or twenty-times the current value—again, depending on what numbers you track and how you extrapolate outward from those numbers. That existing valuation, and that projected (or in some cases, hoped-for growth) is predicated in part on the explosive success of this industry, already. It went from around $10 billion in global annual revenue in 2018 to nearly $100 billion in global revenue in 2024, and the big players in this space—among them OpenAI, which kicked off the most recent AI-related race, the one focusing on large-language models, or LLMs, when it released its ChatGPT tool at the tail-end of 2022—have been attracting customers at a remarkable rate, OpenAI hitting a million users in just five days, and pulling in more than 100 million monthly users by early 2023; a rate of customer acquisition that broke all sorts of records. This industry’s compound annual growth rate is approaching 40%, and is expected to maintain a rate of something like 37% through 2030, which basically means it has a highly desirable rate of return on investment, especially compared to other potential investment targets. And the market itself, separate from the income derived from that market, is expected to grow astonishingly fast due to the wide variety of applications that’re being found for AI tools; that market expanded by something like 50% year over year for the past five years, and is anticipated to continue growing by about 25% for at least the next several years, as more entities incorporate these tools into their setups, and as more, and more powerful tools are developed. All of which paints a pretty flowery picture for AI-based tools, which justifies, in the minds of some analysts, at least, the high valuations many AI companies are receiving: just like many other types of tech companies, like social networks, crypto startups, and until recently at least, metaverse-oriented entities, AI companies are valued primarily based on their future potential outcomes, not what they’re doing today. So while many such companies are already showing impressive numbers, their numbers five and ten years from now could be even higher, perhaps ridiculously so, if some predictions about their utility and use come to fruition, and that’s a big part of why their valuations are so astronomical compared to their current performance metrics. The idea, then, is that basically every company on the planet, not to mention governments and militaries and other agencies and organizations will be able to amp-up their offerings, and deploy entirely new ones, saving all kinds of money while producing more of whatever it is they produce, by using these AI tools. And that could mean this becomes the industry to replace all other industries, or bare-minimum upon which all other industries become reliant; a bit like power companies, or increasingly, those that build and operate data centers. There’s a burgeoning counter-narrative to this narrative, though, that suggests we might soon run into a wall with all of this, and that, consequently, some of these expectations, and thus, these future-facing valuations, might not be as solid as many players in this space hope or expect. And that’s what I’d like to talk about today: AI scaling walls—what they are, and what they might mean for this industry, and all those other industries and entities that it touches. — In the world of artificial intelligence, artificial general intelligence, or AGI, is considered by many to be the ultimate end-goal of all the investment and application in and of these systems that we’re doing today. The specifics of what AGI means varies based on who you talk to, but the idea is that an artificial general intelligence would be “generally” smart and capable in the same, or in a similar way, to human beings: not just great at doing math and not just great at folding proteins, or folding clothes, but pretty solid at most things, and trainable to be decent, or better than decent at potentially everything. If you could develop such a model, that would allow you, in theory, to push humans out of the loop for just about every job: an AI bot could work the cash register at the grocery store, could drive all the taxis, and could do all of our astronomy research, to name just a few of the great many jobs these systems could take on, subbing in for human beings who would almost always be more expensive, but who—this AI being a generalist and pretty good at everything—wouldn’t necessarily do any better than these snazzy new AI systems. So AGI is a big deal because of what it would represent in terms of us suddenly having a potentially equivalent intelligence, an equivalent non-human intelligence, to deal with and theorize over, but it would also be a big deal because it could more or less put everyone out of work, which would no doubt be immensely disruptive, but it would also be really, really great for the pocketbooks of all the companies that are currently burdened with all those paychecks they have to sign each month. The general theory of neural network-based AI systems, which basically means software that is based in some way on the neural networks that biological entities, like mice and fruit flies and humans have in our brains and throughout our bodies, is that these networks should continue to scale as the number of factors that go into making them scale: and usually those factors include the size of the model—which in the case of most of these systems means the number of parameters it includes—the size of the dataset it trains on—which is the amount of data, written, visual, audio, and otherwise, that it’s fed as it’s being trained—and the amount of time and resources invested in its training—which is a variable sort of thing, as there are faster and slower methods for training, and there are more efficient ways to train that use less energy—but in general, more time and more resources will equal a more girthy, capable AI system. So scale those things up and you’ll tend to get a bigger, up-scaled AI on the other side, which will tend to be more capable in a variety of ways; this is similar, in a way, to biological neural networks gaining more neurons, more connections between those neurons, and more life experience training those neurons and connections to help us understand the world, and be more capable of operating within it. That’s been the theory for a long while, but the results from recent training sessions seem to be pouring cold water on that assumption, at least a bit, and at least in some circles. One existing scaling concern in this space is that we, as a civilization, will simply run out of novel data to train these things on within a couple of years. The pace at which modern models are being trained is extraordinary, and this is a big part of why the larger players, here, don’t even seriously talk about compensating the people and entities that created the writings and TV shows and music they scrape from the web and other archives of such things to train their systems: they are using basically all of it, and even the smallest payout would represent a significant portion of their total resources and future revenues; this might not be fair or even legal, then, but that’s a necessary sacrifice to build these models, according to the logic of this industry at the moment. The concern that is emerging, here, is that because they’ve already basically scooped up all of the stuff we’ve ever made as a species, we’re on the verge of running out of new stuff, and that means future models won’t have more music and writing and whatnot to use—it’ll have to rely on more of the same, or, and this could be even worse, it’ll have to rely on the increasing volume of AI-generated content for future iterations, which could result in what’s sometimes called a “Habsburg AI,” referring to the consequences of inbreeding over the course of generations: and future models using AI-generated content as their source materials may produce distorted end-products that are less and less useful (and even intelligible) to humans, which in turn will make them less useful overall, despite technically being more powerful. Another concern is related to the issue of physical infrastructure. In short, global data centers, which run the internet, but also AI systems, are already using something like 1.5-2% of all the energy produced, globally, and AI, which use an estimated 33% more power to generate a paragraph of writing or an image, than task-specific software would consume to do the same, is expected to double that figure by 2025, due in part to the energetic costs of training new models, and in part to the cost of delivering results, like those produced by the ChatGPTs of the world, and those increasingly generated in lieu of traditional search results, like by Google’s AI offerings that’re often plastered at the top of their search results pages, these days. There’s a chance that AI could also be used to reduce overall energy consumption in a variety of ways, and to increase the efficiency of energy grids and energy production facilities, by figuring out the optimal locations for solar panels and coming up with new materials that will increase the efficiency of

    22 min
  8. Online Tutoring

    11/12/2024

    Online Tutoring

    This week we talk about the Double Reduction Policy, gaokao, and Chegg. We also discuss GPTs, cheating, and disruption. Recommended Book: Autocracy, Inc by Anne Applebaum Transcript In July of 2021, the Chinese government implemented a new education rule called the Double Reduction Policy. This Policy was meant, among other things, to reduce the stress students in the country felt related to their educational attainment, while also imposing sterner regulations on businesses operating in education and education-adjacent industries. Chinese students spend a lot of time studying—nearly 10 hours per day for kids ages 12-14—and the average weekly study time for students is tallied at 55 hours, which is substantially higher than in most other countries, and quite a lot higher than the international average of 45 hours per week. This fixation on education is partly cultural, but it’s also partly the result of China’s education system, which has long served to train children to take very high-stakes tests, those tests then determining what sorts of educational and, ultimately, employment futures they can expect.  These tests are the pathway to a better life, essentially, so the kids face a whole lot of pressure from society and their families to do well, because if they don’t, they’ve sentenced themselves to low-paying jobs and concomitantly low-status lives; it’s a fairly brutal setup, looked at from elsewhere around the world, but it’s something that’s kind of taken for granted in modern China. On top of all that in-class schoolwork, there’s abundant homework, and that’s led to a thriving private tutoring industry. Families invest heavily in ensuring their kids have a leg-up over everyone else, and that often means paying people to prepare them for those tests, even beyond school hours and well into the weekend. Because of all this, kids in China suffer abnormally high levels of physical and mental health issues, many of them directly linked to stress, including a chronic lack of sleep, high levels of anxiety, rampant obesity and everything that comes with that, and high levels of suicide, as well; suicide is actually the most common cause of death amongst Chinese teenagers, and the majority of these suicides occur in the lead-up to the gaokao, or National College Entrance Exam, which is the biggest of big important exams that determine how teens will be economically and socially sorted basically for the rest of their lives. This recent Double Reduction Policy, then, was intended to help temper some of those negative, education-related consequences, reducing the volume of homework kids had to tackle each week, freeing up time for sleep and relaxation, while also putting a cap on the ability of private tutoring companies to influence parents into paying for a bunch of tutoring services; something they’d long done via finger-wagging marketing messages, shaming parents who failed to invest heavily in their child’s educational future, making them feel like they aren’t being good parents because they’re not spending enough on these offerings. This policy pursued these ends, first, by putting a cap on how much homework could be sent home with students, limiting it to 60 minutes for youngsters, and 90 minutes for middle schoolers. It also provided resources and rules for non-homework-related after-school services, did away with bad rankings due to poor test performance that might stigmatize students in the future, and killed off some of those fear-inducing, ever-so-important exams altogether. It also provided some new resources and frameworks for pilot programs that could help their school system evolve in the future, allowing them to try some new things, which could, in theory, then be disseminated to the nation’s larger network of schools if these experiments go well. And then on the tutoring front, they went nuclear on those private tutoring businesses that were shaming parents into paying large sums of money to train their children beyond school hours. The government instituted a new system of regulators for this industry, ceased offering new business licenses for tutoring companies, and forced all existing for-profit businesses in this space to become non-profits. This market was worth about $100 billion when this new policy came into effect, which is a simply staggering sum, but the government basically said you’re not businesses anymore, you can’t operate if you try to make a profit. This is just one of many industries the current Chinese leadership has clamped-down on over the past handful of years, often on cultural grounds, as was the case with limiting the amount of time children can play video games each day. But like that video game ban, which has apparently shown mixed results, the tutoring ban seems to have led to the creation of a flourishing black market for tutoring services, forcing these sorts of business dealings underground, and thus increasing the fee parents pay for them each month. In late-October of 2024, the Chinese government, while not formally acknowledging any change to this policy, eased pressure on private tutoring services—the regulators in charge of keeping them operating in accordance with nonprofit structures apparently giving them a nudge and a wink, telling them surreptitiously that they’re allowed to expand again—possibly because China has been suffering a wave of economic issues over the past several years, and the truncation of the tutoring industry led to a lot of mass-firings, tens of thousands of people suddenly without jobs, and a substantial drop in tax revenue, as well, as the country’s stock market lost billions of dollars worth of value basically overnight. It’s also worth noting here that China’s youth unemployment rate recently hit 18.8%, which is a bogglingly high number, and something that’s not great for stability, in the sense that a lot of young people, even very well educated young people, can’t find a job, which means they have to occupy themselves with other, perhaps less productive things. But high youth unemployment is also not great for the country’s economic future, as that means these are people who aren’t attaining new skills and experience—and they can’t do that because the companies that might otherwise hire them can’t afford to pay more employees because folks aren’t spending enough on their offerings. So while it was determined that this industry was hurting children and their families who had to pay these near-compulsory tutoring fees, they also seemed to realize that lacking this industry, their unemployment and broader economic woes would be further inflamed—and allowing for this gray area in the rules seems to be an attempt to have the best of both worlds, though it may leave them burdened with the worst of both worlds, as well. What I’d like to talk about today is another facet of the global tutoring industry, and how new technologies seem to be flooding into this zone even more rapidly than in other spaces, killing off some of the biggest players and potentially portending the sort of collapse we might also see in other industries in the coming years. — Chegg, spelled c-h-e-g-g, is a US-based, education-focused tech company that has provided all sorts of learning-related services to customers since 2006. It went public on the NYSE in 2013, and in 2021 it was called the “most valuable edtech company in America” by Forbes, due in part to the boom in long-distance education services in the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic; like Peloton and Zoom, Chegg was considered to be a great investment for a future in which more stuff is done remotely, as seemed likely to be the case for a good long while, considering all the distancing and shut-downs we were doing at the time. In early 2020, before that boom, the company was already reporting that it had 2.9 million subscribers to its Chegg Services offering, which gave users access to all sorts of school-related benefits, including help with homework, access to Q&As with experts, and a huge database of solutions for tests and assignments. The company then released a sort of social-publishing platform called Uversity in mid-2021, giving educators a place to share their own content, and they acquired a language-learning software company called Busuu, which is a bit like Duolingo, that same year for $436 million. In May of 2023, though, the company’s CEO said, on an earnings call, that ChatGPT—the incredibly popular, basically overnight-popular large-language-model-powered AI chatbot created by OpenAI—might hinder Chegg’s near-future growth. The day after that call, Chegg’s stock price dropped by about 48%, cutting the company’s market value nearly in half, and though later that same month he announced that Chegg would partner with OpenAI to launch its own AI platform called Cheggmate, which was launched as a beta in June, by early November the following year, 2024, the company had lost about 99% of its market valuation, dropping from a 2021 high of nearly $100 per share, down to less than $2 per share as of early November. This isn’t a unique story: LLM-based AI tools, those made by OpenAI but also its competitors, including big tech companies like Google and Microsoft, which have really leaned into this seeming transition, have been messing with market valuations left and right, as this collection of tools and technologies have been evolving really fast—a recent five-year plan for Chegg indicated they didn’t believe something like ChatGPT would exist until 2025 at the earliest, for instance, which turned out to be way off—but they’ve also been killing off high-flying company valuations because these sorts of tools are by definition multi-purpose, and a lot of the low-hanging fruit in any industry is basically just providing information that’s already available somewhere in a more intuitive and accessible fas

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A calm, non-shouty, non-polemical, weekly news analysis podcast for folks of all stripes and leanings who want to know more about what's happening in the world around them. Hosted by analytic journalist Colin Wright since 2016. letsknowthings.substack.com

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