The Unfolding Map of AI and Authority in a Restless Age

Preface

As I have previously indicated I am developing a list of information processing Axioms that I use to guide the analysis of LLMs in certain cases. Due to a confluence of events today, the questions of consciousness, agency, and authority arose. Below is an essay on Authority, seen through the lens of these Axioms, but expressed in what I have to say is a complelling style, approximating that of Alice Munro. So shoutout and shared credit to Nobel prizing winning author Alice Munro, who is clearly an exceptional writer.

This is a compelling subject, because strategists, whether they be business strategists, leaders, or marketing strategists have an inherent need to assess what are the sources of authority at any given time, because that authority will influece expectations, reactions, values, and more.

As explored in other writing, there is a difference between reasoning based on a language corpus, and reasoning based on direct experience. Today, humans have more of the latter than "AI". This has huge implications for how we assess something, like AI, as legitimate authority (in the same way we question the authority of human theorists). Multi-modal LLMs and other AI are in a primitive state today. The road to AI having a substantial memory of direct experience is in the future somewhere. Whether we want AI to develop "human" emotion, as opposed to purely functional equivalents, will no doubt be an interesing question along this road.

Is it ethical to reuse Munro's writing style? I don't know, it is probably not an essay she would have written herself, and for sure she is not conscously at least using the same detailed Axioms this is based on. Why do I use it? To explore whether I can make ideas more engaging and interesting than they would be in my own written style. As always, I reserve the right to rethink my ethics at any time, and welcome your issue-focused feedback.

Regards,

Mark

The Unfolding Map of AI and Authority in a Restless Age

Introduction

We seem to have arrived, in these early years of the twenty-first century, at a kind of hesitant pause. The structures that once stood so firmly, promising guidance, even direction, now seem to sway in a shifting wind. Religion, that long, echoing pronouncement, and government, the solid weight of law and order – they don’t command the same kind of automatic deference. A different murmur rises now, a collective hum from countless linked voices, and we find ourselves wondering where true north lies. Are we losing our way, or simply charting a new course on an unfamiliar map?

The Echoes of Old Voices

Authority, in its first guise, was a practical matter. Strength of arm, the deep lines of age etched around knowing eyes – these were the markers of influence. In a world of tangible threats and whispered uncertainties, the strong arm offered protection, the aged eyes held memory, a kind of hard-won predictability in an unpredictable world. To listen, to obey, became a useful habit, a way to lessen the fear of the unknown. And so, the very shape of society began to form around this give and take, this imparting of direction, this willing obedience.

Then came religion, a grander architecture of authority, built on the intangible. It spoke of other worlds, of unseen powers, of answers to questions that pressed upon the human heart. Texts, heavy with pronouncements, rituals performed with solemnity, pronouncements from figures set apart – all these served to reduce a deeper kind of uncertainty, the existential dread of the unanswerable. Shared beliefs, like invisible threads, wove communities together, and the voices of the religious became the voices of command, their authority drawn from a different, higher realm. This authority wasn’t just about force or experience; it was about trust, a feeling of unwavering reliability and, perhaps, a sense of being cared for by something larger than oneself.

Later, governments arose, and the ground of authority shifted again, becoming more worldly, more bound to the here and now. Governments promised order, stability, the comfort of roads and laws. Their authority was built on rules, regulations, the weight of the state. They offered reward and consequence, the incentive of a settled life, the threat of disruption. And governments, too, crafted their own stories, narratives of nation and purpose, to solidify their claim to be heard, to be followed.

The Cracks in the Foundation

But history is a restless river, always eroding its banks. The solidity of old authorities began to crumble, not in dramatic collapses, but in a slow, steady leaching away. The printing press, that unassuming invention, altered everything. Information, once carefully guarded, began to flow more freely, beyond the control of a single voice. The careful pronouncements of the Church were suddenly open to question, to debate. The world began to be seen differently, through different eyes, and the singular line of authority fractured.

The rise of science offered another kind of challenge, a new voice promising authority based not on faith or pronouncement, but on observation, on testable proof. Religious explanations for the workings of the world began to seem less certain, less satisfying. Individual reason gained ground, and with it, the habit of questioning, of seeking evidence, of evaluating claims for oneself. The slow, steady current of doubt began to undermine the foundations of unquestioning obedience.

Now, in our own time, the flow of information has become a torrent. The internet, those intertwined networks, have amplified every voice, shattered old hierarchies. Traditional institutions find their pronouncements lost in the clamor. For many, the old narratives no longer quite ring true. They feel thin, distant from the complexities of lived experience.

Social networks have emerged as a different kind of landscape of authority, a flatter, more shifting terrain. Information travels sideways, friend to friend, voice to voice across the digital squares. We listen to those who seem like ourselves, those who share our concerns, our tastes. Recommendations ripple outwards, shaping opinions, guiding choices. Algorithms, unseen hands, also exert a strange kind of authority, curating what we see, what we know – a power both subtle and pervasive.

Authority in this new era is scattered, ephemeral. Trust is no longer a given; it must be earned, and constantly re-earned, in a shifting marketplace of voices. We are adrift in a sea of information, navigating by instincts and fragmented signals, less certain than ever of where true guidance lies.

The Algorithm as Oracle?

And so, we arrive at the question that hangs in the air: could artificial intelligence, these intricate calculations capable of processing oceans of data, become the next dominant authority? Could these sophisticated algorithms, promising answers and predictions with a seeming certainty, step into the spaces left by faltering institutions?

Perhaps. To gain true authority, AI would need to demonstrate a consistent competence, a reliable expertise. If these systems prove themselves capable of navigating complexities beyond human grasp, consistently making sound judgments in fields from medicine to climate change, then their word, their algorithmic pronouncements, would carry weight, a new kind of experience-based authority.

And trust, that essential element, would still be paramount. Not trust in a human sense, perhaps, but a confidence in their function, their reliability. Could we come to trust that these systems, even if opaque in their workings, operate with a kind of dispassionate, data-driven objectivity? Transparency would be crucial. The workings of AI would need to be understandable, or at least open to scrutiny, to build genuine confidence. Concerns about bias, manipulation, and control would need to be addressed, not just with technical solutions, but with societal agreements about ethics and oversight.

Even the cold logic of incentives might play a role. Imagine AI systems allocating resources, managing infrastructure. Control over such systems, the power to distribute reward and consequence, could certainly establish a form of authority, though perhaps a brittle and ethically precarious one.

But ultimately, for AI to truly hold sway, something more profound would need to shift – our collective narratives, our shared understandings of what constitutes authority itself. We would need to weave stories, create a cultural meta-information, that legitimizes AI as a source of guidance, even leadership. This would be a slow, subtle process, shaped by media, education, and the gradual integration of AI into the fabric of our daily lives. We would need to move beyond seeing AI as a tool and begin to consider it as a kind of intelligence worthy of our deference, in certain domains at least.

Yet, even as we consider this possibility, we must acknowledge the countervailing currents. The very forces that are dismantling old authorities – the flow of information, the rise of individual reason – could also prevent the emergence of a singular, all-powerful AI. Perhaps we are destined for a more fragmented landscape of algorithmic authorities, each specialized, each contested, a shifting mosaic of trust and doubt.

And there are limits to any purely algorithmic authority. Human beings are not simply processors of information. We are creatures of emotion, value, connection. Authority that rests solely on logic and efficiency might feel cold, insufficient, lacking the human element that underpins true legitimacy.

Conclusion

Perhaps the future of authority is not a simple replacement of old forms with new, but a complex negotiation, a continuous re-evaluation of where we place our trust, in a world awash in information and shifting landscapes of power. The axioms of information itself – its flow, its value, its power to shape our understanding – will continue to guide this unfolding story, as we navigate this restless age, searching for a new map to guide us forward.