Yang threw a curveball into the political dialogue with his universal basic income (UBI) proposal, echoing a kind of modern-day Alaska permanent dividend. But here's where it gets spicy: imagine convincing the "profit over people" alumni that it's in their best interest to open their wallets for the greater good.
Sounds like a plot twist in a corporate thriller, doesn't it?
We're standing at the crossroads of an identity crisis. It's like we're in desperate need of a leadership software update—one that doesn't just crash when it encounters the concept of empathy or forward-thinking.
It's not about swapping the old guard for the new; it's about hitting the pause button long enough to realize that the boogeyman isn't automation or generative AI; it's our unwillingness to adapt our values.
Consider this: the same old debates circle around us like vultures.
"Guns don't kill people; people kill people," and in the same breath, "AI won't replace you, a human using AI will humans choosing profits over people will."
The script is eerily similar, with a different cast of characters. We've got a global stage with 8 billion people, and yet, the spotlight seems to favor the billionaires building bunkers rather than bridges; stepping on faces instead of lifting up whole lives.
How do we make the case that opening their wallets is not just a charitable act but an investment in a more resilient and dynamic economy?
It isn't about handouts; it's about laying the groundwork for the next wave of economic growth, ensuring a base level of financial security to create a more robust consumer base, reduce social unrest, and encourage a more productive society. Investing in society is investing in their own company's future. It's societal R&D, diversifying the portfolio to include the most underutilized asset we have—people.
Here's a thought experiment for the keyboard philosophers and the boardroom warriors:
Pathway One involves embracing AI and automation to streamline efficiency, subsequently kissing goodbye to the human element, and hoarding the spoils in a Scrooge McDuck-style money bin.
Or, Pathway Two: leverage the same technology to unlock human potential, encouraging creativity, risk-taking, and community building. We're not just cogs in a machine; we're the tribe, and it's high time the chiefs remember that evolution favors not just the strong, but the adaptable and the united.
Every decision we make about technology is scripting the future. Do we choose to automate compassion out of the equation, or do we rewrite the narrative to champion a more inclusive, thriving society?
The pen is in our hands, and the page is turning.
Let's write a story worth telling.
—
I’ve updated this a bit from my recent LinkedIn post. I included a link to Stanford’s UBI experiment map. Check it out here.
What do you think? What about a pathway three, or four, or five?
What are you doing to stave off innumerable existential crises? Thanks for tuning in. ;)
Great to see empathy on the table
It’s likely that many, perhaps even countless, guys find cats endearing, intriguing and attractive (platonically, of course, as I do), but they’re afraid to openly admit so, lest they be deemed something less than ‘a man’ for feeling/saying so about a cat.
They may fear that others might think: If these guys have to love a pet animal, why can’t they focus their strong adoration for a mammal species that’s more socially acceptable … like a dog?
After all, there's an article [that I know of] headlined “Keep Cats Out of Your Dating Profile, Ridiculous Study Suggests” [June 24, 2020, Toronto NOW], was self-explanatorily sub-headlined “Men were deemed less masculine and less attractive when they held up cats in their dating pics, according to researchers”.
Even today, it seems that a guy can be considered a wuss for holding his puss. I'm a cat person, for what it's worth, though I'm not much for the overly domesticated felines (i.e. the flat-faced fluffy Persian cats).
I recollect how, as a teen, I knew (and would emulate, or at least attempt to) a pair of the toughest guys around, both of whom cherished his pet cat, albeit privately.
Given the tough-guy environment of that place and time, however, no male would have dared openly express his cat enthusiasm to his large peer group, lest he seriously risk having his reputation unjustly permanently besmirched as ‘a wuss’.
There are many people out there who will still question the normality of a guy who likes cats — something that’s implied by first-season Seinfeld’s George Costanza, though he hardly constitutes a statistically accurate example of such.
In regards to her new boyfriend’s affection for his two cats, George says to Elaine Benes in a doubtful tone of voice while shaking his head: “Guys with cats … I don’t know.”