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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Technopole

started 2026-03-16 at 15:11 EDT | updated 2026-03-16 at 17:13 EDT | written in Maryland | 3512 words

started 2026-03-16 at 15:11 EDT updated 2026-03-16 at 17:13 EDT written in Maryland 3512 words

tags: t, e, c, h, n, o, c, a, p, i, t, a, l, ,, , A, S, I

Beyond the Judgement of God. Meltdown: planetary china-syndrome, dissolution of the biosphere into the technosphere, terminal speculative bubble crisis, ultravirus, and revolution stripped of all christian-socialist eschatology (down to its burn-core of crashed security). It is poised to eat your TV, infect your bank account, and hack xenodata from your mitochondria.

Machinic Synthesis. Deleuzoguattarian schizoanalysis comes from the future. It is already engaging with nonlinear nano-engineering runaway in 1972; differentiating molecular or neotropic machineries from molar or entropic aggregates of nonassembled particles; functional connectivity from antiproductive static.

[…]

Converging upon terrestrial meltdown singularity, phase-out culture accelerates through its digitech-heated adaptive landscape, passing through compression thresholds normed to an intensive logistic curve: 1500, 1756, 1884, 1948, 1980, 1996, 2004, 2008, 2010, 2011 …

If you want to peer into the future, you can book a flight to San Francisco International Airport today. You can work your way downtown and watch (mostly) self-driving cars meander, sometimes clumsily, around what initially seems like a small section of urban Boston cut-and-pasted into the most naturally beautiful place you’ve ever been in your life (in the midst of incongruous, endless five-over-one sprawl); you can ride in one and be totally astounded for 20 minutes, and then mostly bored. You can meet people you’ve followed for years on the site formerly known as Twitter, and whom you always had difficulty imagining as having a corporeal form (as they say, in SF, Twitter is real life). You can see hundreds of peculiar SaaS and cloud compute advertisements, few less than three layers of abstraction removed from any concrete application, and most betraying a level of unseriousness and psychological unsophistication and aesthetic immaturity that you think ought to be incompatible with controlling a couple million dollars of capital, let alone a couple billion. You can visit a place where an entire city seems to be implicitly under the Chatham House Rule, if only because the sentiments many people will ~openly express are so extreme and appalling that it’s incumbent on you to protect the speakers’ reputations from themselves.

You can walk by the buildings, the normal office buildings, where the inhabitants might or might not be building God, or at least (much more credibly) an alien species made superficially in the image of man, and contemplate the lack of barbed wire and heavily armed guards. You can meet the individuals whose values, competencies, and luck are steering the development & deployment of transformative AI – i.e., the rest of everything that happens forever – and observe that they’re essentially normal people, or at least not of a fundamentally different taxon than you (perhaps to your relief, or perhaps not). You may even argue with them about the finer details of the Situation, and most will gladly hear you out and seemingly not take offense, and prove themselves to be decent in many other little ways.

You can readily notice the near-total stratification (which you had been warned of) of downtown San Francisco between ~software engineers and the service worker caste, and idly wonder which you’ll fall into in ten or twenty years; you can retreat to Berkeley, where “software engineers” is replaced with “wealthy students from abroad,” or one of the poorer and more heterogeneous suburban or exurban areas of the Bay.

coldhealing has a tweet that goes like this: “my vision of new york is five boroughs filled entirely with laptop job elite galavanting around the playground city served by an underclass that commutes in from tiny five-over-ones in hoboken”. Whether they realized it or not, this post was about SF, the downtown area of which is probably the most thoroughly powerwashed place I’ve ever been, including Washington, D.C., Wall Street, and Boston.

Californians love their cars, and pedestrians and drivers alike are subservient to the automobile in a way that urban East Coast residents mostly are not (though this is in large part a function of distance & sprawl). You get the sense that the real technocapital demon reaching through time to ensure its own survival is the specter of Henry Ford haunting America, many decades later. Nothing human makes it out of the near future, but compact SUVs probably will.

This is to say nothing of the vagrants in various states of disrepair sunken into the corners of almost every block, nearly wherever you go. They seem more listless than their counterparts in New York City did, and seem ensnared by the otherwise pristine facets and metal thorns of the edifice of 22nd-century(sic) capital, like it is eating them. Every time I see one I feel the granite sidewalk pinching my skin against my vertebrae.

Many of your peers that seem otherwise quite progressive and egalitarian have an obvious, persistent animus for “the bay area homeless population.” Residents of certain neighborhoods of SF have a conditioned apathy for human suffering that rivals that exhibited by ER nurses, and some take active pride in it.

You can also meet people whose sole intention is – quite openly – to enrich themselves at the expense of others by gaining exposure to some part (however distal) of the shovel and pick supply chain for this gold rush, which they breathlessly inform you will be the last gold rush ever to occur in human history; and by them be offered strange drugs with names you’ve never heard before, and asked if you’re making it out of the permanent underclass.

You can, conversely, notice the sheer relative concentration of competence and moral consistency at the top of the pyramid, very near to the compute itself, and how in this particular ecosystem, the most apparently productive organisms in the sunlit zone of the ocean are outnumbered several hundred to one by twilight zone dwelling mollusks and jellyfish and filter-feeders, and seabed scavengers; and idly wonder in two or five years which layer you’ll fall into. You can too easily develop a penchant for tortured analogies.

You might suffer painful reminders that – extremely inconveniently – you still have (some) genuine moral compunctions, carried gingerly from the 2000s to here, that you have no realistic way to either fully satisfy nor fully expunge. Wealthier people than you may tell you there’s no reason to want to be rid of your scruples, and more moral ones may tell you that acting on your values is only so difficult in the imagination. Both are probably right, unfortunately.

You can hand a few dollars to a roaming beggar on the train, since she’s with a baby, then idly wonder whether you’ve been scammed, then decide that any woman in a dire enough situation to end up begging on the train with a baby attached to her probably deserves the help anyway — then idly watch the BART police chase after her a few minutes later.

You might meditate on the natures of competence, gratitude, progress, disillusionment, capital, luck, noblesse oblige, and the perhaps unexpectedly superlinear and sublinear relationships between several of these.

SF is also one of the most secular-feeling places I’ve ever been, a kind of special economic zone God declines to enter.

Hypergambling culture (see: prediction markets, memecoins, the Stanford dropout to Y Combinator pipeline, etc.) has been synthesized with rather extreme forms of classism and cynicism to form a uniquely repulsive new economic religion, one foremost of nihilism – one embraced in its milder forms by much of the disillusioned “gen Z” cohort, many of whom seem to itch for an excuse to declare normative economic participation a lost cause and indulge their zero-sum aspirations. Of course, many proponents of this complex of beliefs show a marked failure of imagination: tacit in their scheming and rhetoric is the assumption that many parts of the status quo will be preserved indefinitely, even through unprecedented transformation of our species and society. To many others, and perhaps to me to some lesser extent, “will property rights survive the singularity?” probably sounds akin to ““.

Some have been so completely captured by Capital that, when you venture to question their barely-implicit assumption that the only end of human activity is to more efficiently allocate capital for the purpose of maximizing returns to capital, they react as if you have threatened their life. e/acc embraces this

Certainly not every professional who lives and works in the Bay Area subscribes to this religion, but nearly committed clergy-member of it that I’ve met so far was at the very least socially or culturally enmeshed in the place. The last twenty years of tech in California are, I’m told, the modern incarnation of last century’s local gold rush economy; the favored term of art is “high-variance,” i.e. the acknowledgement that by (for example) founding or joining a startup, one sacrifices expected value and accepts a likely poor outcome in exchange for a realistic chance at a right-tail outcome (“generational wealth”). The stakes are, of course, not so serious as long as there’s a 350k TC tech job for the founder to fall back on (longtime Twitter addicts may recall a discourse in which the startup class tried to get away with referring to themselves as being “in the arena,” and perhaps overplayed their hand a bit, resulting in some ridicule).

The weather is exquisite; the first time I got to Berkeley, I mused about how my uninformed sardonic posts about

In finance, there is a concept known as “volatility time” that refers to a scaling of some feature (e.g., a time series) by the cumulative volatility — volatility being a rolling measure of how “jumpy” or dispersed a price or other feature is, computed using the standard deviation of each window of log-returns. The intuition, AIUI, is that signals tend to carry much more information per unit time immediately before and immediately after major events, i.e., when asset prices are most volatile, and you therefore want to naturally upweight them when fitting forecasting models, for example.

In the Bay, perceptual time slows to a crawl . You can retreat to Berkeley or Oakland if you want it to speed up again, or NYC if you want to skip a few months.

I am writing this for multiple reasons — of course, to boast a little, and to indulge my itch to write something freeform and nontechnical, but mainly to assemble a consolidated and public record of the absurdity that I can point to when I want to impress upon someone the strangeness and realness of it all. That is: I get the sense that many people don’t believe me when I relate to them the actual, real epistemic status of the city, but . Another is that I plan to move back to the self-appointed center of the world within a few weeks, and want to indelibly record a sliver of my current impression of it before it all grows mundane to me.

My new acquaintance Celeste Land writes less obliquely about the mood:

The cars drive themselves, a seven-digit salary is considered the only way out of a nearly certain fate in the permanent underclass. Effective altruism is close to a norm. Billboards speak of pull requests, wage slaves go to sleep with their AI wives on heated mattresses that stop working when us-east-1 goes down.

Everyone “hates” it. No one wants to leave.

My experience has been overwhelmingly positive on a personal level, and I am better off for having met the people I have and spent the time I have with them, with vanishingly few exceptions. I must explicitly disclaim this because I am compelled to speak in such an oblique way that it might not be entirely clear.

It feels much like being back in university, an environment I sorely missed.

There is a refreshingness in entering a zone where the typical Overton window is several standard deviations closer to yours than to the general public’s, one in which ninety percent of a given conversation about the Situation by volume is no longer dedicated to unbearable microlitigation of sneers and derailments enabled by your casual invocation of “AGI,” or some unobjectionable-seeming mild assumption you made about X starting condition or Y modus ponens, or your interlocutors refusing to believe what is in front of their very eyes – to say nothing of a person like me enjoying other conversational, social, and geographic privileges that I’ve never before experienced in my life. It is simultaneously somewhat maddening to have, for casual conversation, a setpoint that lies squarely on, or at least an attractor state toward, the rest of everything that’s going to happen [to you] forever. Yudkowsky’s old note about “competent elites” crosses your mind frequently, but so do the various rationalist aphorisms about how there are only very rarely any “adults in the room” by default.

But they are still relatively normal; the Zizians are extreme outliers. There is a difficult tension between the stereotypically “proportionate” reaction to

And it has all been done to death, of course – the religious fervor in the air, the undue credulity in some areas, the unjustified skepticism in others,

It is not, however, opaque or inscrutable. It’s fairly trivial to present a reasonably faithful distillation of a set of beliefs that many incredibly smart and well-informed people, both near to and far from the actual development of frontier AI systems, genuinely hold – here’s my attempt:

I could go on. I want to emphasize that these are not consensus among any particular group of people, certainly not when all taken together. Almost all of them are however reasonably close to being modal beliefs among the “kind of people Anna talks to [irl].”

For the record, I more or less believe most of these. They also all independently scare the shit out of me. These are often skirted around in day-to-day conversation, but one gradually gets the sense that this has more to do with boredom or weariness or tactfulness than any kind of intentional deceit or strategization. So pervasive is the air of autistic openness, at least in the higher-trust social environments.

In a way, I have already been stuck in the Bay Area for years. Even though actual inhabitants thereof constituted a minority of my close friends and acquaintances until fairly recently, the rest – in Massachusetts, NYC, the PNW, and elsewhere – have been increasingly culturally downstream of far-west discourses, thoughtforms, and world models for several years. It became impossible to ignore after 2022 or so, to our eternal chagrin; being even moderately intelligent, “plugged in,” and tolerant to the outlandish implies that you care to some extent about/pay some attention to the Project, and accordingly steep in the wretched culture surrounding it. Every group chat is tacitly permanentunderclasschat now.

My excursion made me more optimistic and tempered my mood – at the very least, it reduced the mean number of times per day that I post about the permanent underclass or the singularity or the ASI at the end of time, though this was already beginning to happen just due to sheer boredom of the topic. I remarked to friends at least twice that I wasn’t sure whether this calming had more to do with renewed personal optimism about my specific positioning, or mere contagion from spending so much time around highly amiable people with unflinchingly positive outlooks. I imagine that one needs both kinds to succeed.

It is perhaps, in some senses, the strangest and most fraught moment in history that one could have chosen to be recovering from severe health issues, and to be in the earlier months of gender transition, and trying to become net- economically and socially useful for the first time. On the other hand,


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