Trump and the Greedy Algorithm
In Kim
Stanley Robinson’s novel, Aura, he uses the mathematical construct of the
greedy algorithm, an algorithm that always points to the simple, right answer,
as a way of framing what happens in a society or civilization when the
questions that dominate our attention keep producing obvious but useless
answers. What happens is that the deep
and important questions are never able to break through the veil of the greedy
algorithm and attract the attention they deserve.
I think
we should think of the failed presidency of Donald J. Trump as a greedy
algorithm, one that rivets our attention on the cascading decline of his
presidency and makes it almost impossible to focus on what is important. Every news cycle is held captive to the
horrific narrative unfolding around this president. There is no way to know what new low or new
threat will greet us tomorrow morning.
It is almost impossible not to watch.
Add in the spectacle of Republican legislators making up health care
bills as they vote on them with no deliberation and no sense of what the impact
or consequences might be, and there is enough political drama to draw our
attention away from what we should be thinking about. Regardless of what happens to Trump and the
Republicans, the only way out of this collapse of the American political system
is to turn away from the carnage and focus on what we have to build to combat
and replace this.
I think
we should only pay attention to Trump one day a week – let’s say Tuesday. Every Tuesday we’re allowed wall to wall
coverage of Trumpland – like washing down a sugar sandwich with a coke. One day, that’s it. After that we have to get back to work. After that we have to say what should we
build to replace what we used to think of as an indestructible political
reality. The world we used to live in is
gone. We can’t go back, and moving
forward is going to require us to turn off the nonsense and build a new
political alliance. We should pay due
diligence to the legal and political process that will try to contain the
damage, but just cheering for the good guys and carrying signs in the streets
won’t build a new politics.
We have
become a fractured resistance. There are
more of us than there are of them, but we have lost the knack of making broad
alliances that can carry us back into some control over our own lives. Our allies are not going to agree with us on
everything. They are not going to pass
increasingly restrictive litmus tests of purity. We need to respect our differences and argue
for our place in the society, but first we need to build a society that makes
that possible. More than anything else
we have to find a way to correct the imbalance in wealth that is killing any
prospect of democracy.
But we
must do more. We must plan for a new
economy, a new definition and a new system of education, an infrastructure for
the 21st century, and we must prepare for the economic and
environmental changes that will come from changing the way we create,
distribute and use energy. We are going
to see massive unemployment as AI continues to change work. The system we have now has no way to absorb
this fast approaching and inevitable outcome.
There was a time when the ‘end of work’ was a utopian pipe dream, but
now that it is here in a very tangible way, we have no idea how to act.
It is
problems like the end of work that make it clear that our intelligence can’t be
solely focused on technology and science.
We need to ask hard social, political, ethical and philosophical
questions about the new reality that science and technology are going to
create. We need art that will help us
imagine what we cannot now imagine. We
are walking off the end of a long pier into the unknown, and the entrenched
notions of politics and society we have grown up with will not help us when we
take that last step into something new.
We
can’t start any of this focusing on the greedy algorithm of Trump. He is the joke at the end of the
Enlightenment. The sad clown that
modernity was always fated to produce. If
you want to create something worth handing on to your children and
grandchildren, you can’t look over your shoulder as it burns. We have to focus ahead, not with some new
sense of progress, but because it’s all we can do. We can still have Tuesdays to wallow in the
mire. We’ll meet at your place; I’ll
bring the popcorn.