Alaska’s War on Grizzly Bears

The attention focused on the spectacle of state wildlife biologists flying around in helicopters shooting every grizzly bear they can find (186 killed so far plus 5 black bears and 20 wolves) on the calving grounds of the Mulchatna Caribou Herd in Southwest Alaska should not obscure the geographically much larger campaign against grizzly bears being conducted by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game and the Alaska Board of Game.

This war, often termed “intensive management,” is being conducted through decades of liberalized bear hunting regulations motivated by the desire to reduce bear numbers in the hope this will result in more moose and caribou for harvest by hunters (most of whom live in urban areas).

The Mulchatna program is officially defined as being “predator control” because it involves aerial shooting of bears by Fish and Game staff. The geographically much larger effort to reduce bear abundance using regulation liberalizations is not defined as predator control. This lawyerly sleight-of-hand by definition allows Fish and Game to misleadingly claim that predator control on bears (and wolves) is occurring only in the relatively small portions of Alaska where aerial shooting of bears is ongoing. The opposite is true using a commonsense definition of predator control, which is to achieve declines in predator numbers.

We are four retired Alaska Department of Fish and Game biologists who have published one or more peer-reviewed papers documenting this effort to reduce grizzly abundance through regulation liberalizations. We documented this in an area that represents approximately 76% of Alaska; the area where liberalizations of bear hunting regulations are most aggressive. This is everywhere except in Southeast Alaska, Kodiak, Prince William Sound and the Alaska Peninsula, where bears are large and are still managed for sustainable trophy harvests. It includes all areas where moose and/or caribou are common. Some elements of the liberalizations in this area include:

• Liberalized regulations in a Game Management Subunit a total of 253 times and made more conservative only six times. This contrasts dramatically with the pattern prior to passage of the Intensive Management law in 1994, when regulation changes were equally balanced between small tweaks in either direction.

• Increasing the bag limit from one bear every 4 years (everywhere in 1980) to 1 or two bears per year. In 2005, 5% of the area had an annual bag limit of 2 per year but this increased to 45% by 2020 and to 67% by 2025.

• Longer open hunting seasons to include periods when hides are in poor condition and bears are in dens. The whole area had hunting seasons totaling less than 100 days in 1975; by 2015, 100% of the area had seasons longer than 300 days (20% longer than 350 days).

•Grizzly bears could not be baited anywhere in 2010 but, by 2022, grizzlies could be baited in 75% of the area (essentially everywhere except north of the Brooks Range).

• In 1975, all resident hunters were required to purchase a $25 tag prior to hunting grizzly bears but this is now routinely waived everywhere.

• Regulations designed to incentivize killing more grizzlies even include allowing hunters to sell the hides and skulls of bears they kill (nowhere prior to 2010, 26% of the area in 2016 and 67% in 2025). Allowing these sales is, effectively, a bounty on bears and is contrary to one of the basic principles of the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation against the commercialization of hunted wildlife.

Throughout this entire area of our analysis, there has been only one scientific study with new information on grizzly bear numbers or trends. In Subunit 13A, Fish and Game biologists reported a decline in bear density of 25%-40% during 1998-2012; results from a follow-up ADFG study in the same area 5 years ago have not been analyzed. It is scientifically irresponsible to conduct a study like this with (in all likelihood) more than $200,000 of public funds expended and not analyze and report the results. Declines in grizzly bear density similar to or greater than those found in 13A have probably occurred throughout Alaska correlated with the regulation liberalizations (and documented increases in grizzly bear harvests). Nobody can say this for sure however, because the state has not done any studies. Short of avoiding extirpation, it is hard not to conclude that the BOG and the leadership of ADFG does not care what is happening to grizzly bear populations in most of Alaska.

This aggressive management of bears is largely driven by the 1994 Intensive Management Law (IM). This law set a wildlife management priority for human consumptive use of moose, caribou, and deer. Under the IM law, state managers are effectively required to conduct predator reduction efforts wherever hunter demands for more moose or caribou harvests exceed the supply.

Nowhere in Alaska since the passage of the IM law has there been any scientifically-documented “success” showing increased hunter harvests of moose, caribou or deer that is significantly correlated with the predator reduction programs. One of us (Sterling Miller) co-authored the only peer-reviewed paper on this topic since passage of the IM law; this paper concluded that 40 years of wolf and bear reduction efforts in GMU 13 were not correlated with increased hunter harvests of moose. We are saddened to see the agency in which we once proudly served the Alaska public now reduced to shooting bears (and wolves) from helicopters in some areas while misleading Alaskans about the true extent of the war on bears that is occurring in Alaska and its “effectiveness”.

by Sterling Miller, PhD; John Schoen, PhD; Charles C. Schwarz, PhD; and Jim Faro, MS, Anchorage Daily News |  Read more:

Image: NPS

[ed. Esteemed former collegues and world-class research and management biologists, all. ADF&G itself was once considered world-class, one of Alaska's oldest and most venerated institutions (beginning in territorial days, pre-statehood). But during the late 90s/early 2000's, politics began intruding and now it's just...eh. I've known the current Commissioner all his career (a fish biologist), and let's say none of this is surprising.]

Pat Metheny Group

[ed. Insane. Live version here (no piano, but this: 330-434). See also: Pat Metheny: How to Build a Solo on James (Beato).]

How We Stopped Caring About “Selling Out”

I know, deep down in my heart, that Matthew McConaughey is not my friend. Despite my lingering soft spot for his charming Texan accent, his role in my life amounts to nothing more than pixels on a screen. Still, that did little to ease the pang of betrayal I felt after spotting the actor in this commercial for the software company Salesforce, bemoaning a broken arm in the back room of an overcrowded hospital:

 

“If my healthcare provider had AgentForce, the powerful AI from Salesforce, an AI agent would have automatically paired me with the right specialist hours ago,” he mutters, that sweet, sweet Texan drawl camouflaging the dystopian premise of the ad. (Apparently, in America’s dysfunctional hospital system, your odds of healing a broken bone depend on the use of a new AI program.)

I couldn’t help but conjure a word from deep within my psyche, one I hadn’t heard in eons: sellout.

In recent years, our pop culture landscape has become so dominated by athletic-wear brand deals and laxative pill endorsements that it’s hard to remember an alternative. A-listers now seem to treat art like a side hustle, and advertising as their main career. It’s not enough for McConaughey to earn millions by smoldering through the window of a luxury Lincoln SUV, or lounging shirtless for Dolce & Gabbana cologne. He just had to become the creative director for Wild Turkey Bourbon, launch his own “Pantalones Organic Tequila” brand, and now, lend his rugged charisma to AI platforms.

A few decades ago, the very idea of an artist using their platform to shill products was not only considered tacky, but a moral failing—a betrayal of one’s fanbase and a stain on their integrity.

That’s why American stars travelled to Japan to film commercials; the shame of being caught in an advertisement could dissolve years of goodwill they’d built with the public. (Just look at Tommy Lee Jones. Stateside, he’s known for his Oscar-winning gravitas, but overseas, he’s been the face of Suntry canned coffee since 2006.) It’s the whole premise of Lost in Translation: a washed up, ashamed Bill Murray has to hide out in Tokyo just to promote a whiskey brand. Today, he’d proudly name it “Murray Malört” and slap his own face on the bottle. (...)

Celebrities are no longer scared to trade the public’s admiration for a paycheck, because they no longer have to trade. Sure, McConaughey could live indefinitely off the dividends from Interstellar. But if he’ll face zero backlash for shamelessly hawking liquor and AI platforms, why wouldn’t he?

To understand how we lost our dignity, we need to trace the mass commercialization of art—and with it, the disappearance of American counterculture. After all, if everything is for sale, there’s no such thing as a “sellout.” (...)

When Music Television burst into American homes, it ushered in an entirely new era for advertising. The 24-hour TV channel didn’t just kill the radio star—it also birthed the corporate celebrity. With the click of a remote, companies were given access to a direct line of information on what the youth found cool. Soon, advertising execs began to copy the DIY aesthetics of the underground. (...)

Before long, it became difficult to tell where MTV’s music programming ended and their commercial breaks began. Philip B. Dusenberry, an advertising executive for Pepsi-Cola and Apple Computer, admitted that the channel had profoundly shaped young consumers’ habits.

''MTV's impact, first and foremost, is as a teacher,” he told the Times. “It has educated people, particularly young people, to accept lots of information in a short period of time.'' (...)

Not every artist was eager to embrace the era of the endorsement deal. Neil Young fired back in 1988 with This Note’s for You:

“Ain’t singin’ for Pepsi / Ain’t singin’ for Coke / I don’t sing for nobody / Makes me look like a joke.”

MTV banned the video. The blacklist only made Young’s point clearer: the industry had chosen a side, and it wasn’t with the holdouts.

Maybe no one embodied the tension between anti-corporate ideals and mainstream success more than Nirvana. When the band left their small Seattle label Sub Pop to release Nevermind with Geffen Records—one of the “big six” corporate labels at the time—Kurt Cobain acknowledged complaints from the purist faction of his fanbase.

“I don’t blame the average seventeen-year-old punk-rock kid for calling me a sellout,” he told Rolling Stone. “I understand that. And maybe when they grow up a little bit, they’ll realize there’s more things to life than living out your rock & roll identity so righteously.”

It’s almost nostalgic to think that Nirvana’s version of “selling out” meant signing to a major record label, instead of naming their fourth album 0% APR Discover Credit Card, the way a band might today.

By the end of the 20th century, the corporate capture of counterculture had entered its final phase. The clearest symbol of that shift came in the year 1999, when promoters tried to resurrect the spirit of Woodstock. Instead, they created Woodstock ‘99, a festival so nakedly commercialized and mismanaged it felt like a parody of the original.

Sponsored by Hot Topic, Pepsi, and AT&T, the event charged hefty ticket prices and quickly descended into chaos. Water supplies dwindled by the first day, and under the blistering, 100-degree heat, vendors charged $4 a bottle—the equivalent of $8 today—to dehydrated, sunburned attendees. Some people reported paying up to $50. Three people died. Rampant sexual assaults and rioting marred the weekend—which was broadcast live on MTV, via pay-per-view, starting at $60 a package.

by Emily Topping, Current Affairs |  Read more:

Image: uncredited

Joni Mitchell, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
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Nature Writing is Survival Writing: On Rethinking a Genre

If there were a contest for Most Hated Genre, nature writing would surely take top honors. Other candidates—romance, say—have their detractors, but are stoutly defended by both practitioners and fans. When it comes to nature writing, though, no one seems to hate container and contents more than nature writers themselves.

“‘Nature writing’ has become a cant phrase, branded and bandied out of any useful existence, and I would be glad to see its deletion from the current discourse,” the essayist Robert Macfarlane wrote in 2015. When David Gessner, in his book Sick of Nature, imagined a party attended by his fellow nature writers, he described a thoroughgoing dud: “As usual with this crowd, there’s a whole lot of listening and observing going on, not a lot of merriment.”

Critics, for their part, have dismissed the genre as a “solidly bourgeois form of escapism,” with nature writers indulging in a “literature of consolation” and “fiddling while the agrochemicals burn.” Nature writers and their work are variously portrayed, fairly and not, as misanthropic, condescending, and plain embarrassing. Joyce Carol Oates, in her essay “Against Nature,” enumerated nature writing’s “painfully limited set of responses” to its subject in scathing all caps: “REVERENCE, AWE, PIETY, MYSTICAL ONENESS.”

Oates, apparently, was not consoled.

The persistence of nature writing as a genre has more to do with publishers than with writers. Labels can usefully lash books together, giving each a better chance of staying afloat in a flooded marketplace, but they can also reinforce established stereotypes, limiting those who work within a genre and excluding those who fall outside its definition. As Oates suggested, there are countless ways to think and write about what we call “nature,” many of them urgent. But nature writing, as defined by publishers and historical precedent, ignores all but a few. (...)

Any genre can only stretch so far, though, and the limitations of nature writing are inscribed in its very name. Nature writing still tends to treat its subject as “an infinite variety of animated scenes,” and while the genre’s membership and approaches have diversified somewhat in recent years, its prizewinners resemble its founders: mostly white, mostly male, and mostly from wealthy countries. The poet and essayist Kathleen Jamie calls them Lone Enraptured Males. (...)

Today, the nature-writing genre reminds me of the climate-change beat in journalism: the stakes and scope of the job have magnified to the point that the label is arguably worse than useless, misrepresenting the work as narrower than it is and restricting its potential audience. The state of “nature,” like the state of the global climate, can no longer be appreciated from a distance, and its literature can no longer be confined to a single shelf. If we must give it a label, I say we call it survival writing. Or, better yet, writing.

by Michelle Nijhuis, Lit Hub | Read more:
Image: uncredited

Essential Skills for the Training of Conservation Social Scientists

Abstract

Since 2000, the field of biodiversity conservation has been reckoning with the historical lack of effective engagement with the social sciences in parallel with rapid declines in biodiversity and escalating concerns regarding socioecological justice exacerbated by many common conservation practices. As a result, there is now wide recognition among scholars and practitioners of the importance of understanding and engaging human dimensions in conservation practice. Developing and applying theoretical and practical knowledge related to the social sciences, therefore, should be a priority for people working in biodiversity conservation. We considered the training needs for the next generation of conservation social science professionals by surveying conservation professionals working in multiple sectors. Based on 119 responses, the 3 most cited soft skills (i.e., nontechnical abilities that facilitate effective interpersonal interaction, collaboration, and adaptability in diverse contexts) were cultural awareness and the ability to understand the values and perspectives of others, people management and conflict resolution skills, and the ability to develop and maintain inter- and intraorganizational networks and working relationships. The 3 most cited technical skills were expertise in behavior change expertise, expertise in government and policy, and general critical thinking and problem-solving skills. Overall, we found that current conservation social scientists believe students and early career conservationists should prioritize soft skills rather than technical skills to be effective. These skills were also correlated with the skills considered hardest to acquire through on-the-job training. We suggest early career conservationists develop essential soft and technical skills, including cultural awareness, networking, critical thinking, and statistical analysis tailored to sectoral and regional needs.

Introduction

(...) The growing recognition of the importance of social sciences to conservation stems from an increasing awareness among policy makers, practitioners, and scientists of the tight connections between human dimensions of conservation and their effectiveness and ethical dimensions (Moon et al., 2019; Sala & Torchino, 2020). Integrating social science insights in conservation science, policy, and practice, can make conservation more inclusive and equitable and thus foster improved collaboration among scientists, policy makers, and communities (Evans, 2021). The historical neglect of social science perspectives often resulted in conservation measures that overlooked the complex sociocultural dynamics affecting local communities (West & Brockington, 2006). Connecting ecological objectives with the lived experiences of those affected by conservation policies is pragmatic, because successful conservation frequently relies on community support and participation (Armitage et al., 2020; Berkes, 2004), and ethical, because it involves the moral imperatives in conservation, including acknowledgment and protection of the rights and livelihoods of local populations crucial to conservation outcomes (Miller et al., 2011). This approach not only enhances the sustainability of conservation programs, but also aligns them with broader ethical commitments to social justice and equity.

However, the use and application of social science in conservation by those lacking appropriate training remains problematic (Martin, 2019; St John et al., 2010). Social sciences are absent in the core curricula of the majority of conservation education programs (Slater et al., 2024). Moreover, there has been limited exploration into which specific social science skills are the most sought after—or most necessary—in the conservation professional workforce. To address the pressing need for socioecological justice and achieve conservation outcomes that genuinely integrate people's central role in conservation, alongside the increasing demand for expertise in conservation social science, it is critical to enhance training for social science students (Newing, 2010). (...)

This lack of emphasis on skills development for professional practice (e.g., leadership, communication, and management skills) underscores a tension between cultivating technical skills and soft skills (Bickely et al. 2013). Technical skills encompass disciplinary expertise and knowledge required for methodological proficiency or a deep understanding of a topic, including theoretical and applied aspects, such as human−wildlife interactions, statistical analyses, and geographic information systems. Soft skills, essential for effective interaction and collaboration, include interpersonal abilities, communication skills, emotional intelligence, adaptability, and cultural competency. Although technical skills are critical for practicing rigorous conservation social science, quantitative and qualitative soft skills are vital to fostering cross-cultural understanding, collaboration, and effective communication in diverse work environments. These skills are also invaluable for career advancement, leadership, and overall workplace success because they enable individuals to navigate complex interpersonal dynamics, build strong relationships, and adapt to change. Slater et al. (2024), however, found that fewer than half of the conservation courses they reviewed prioritized the development of interpersonal or project management skills. They further noted a deficiency in social science methodology training across most conservation undergraduate programs in Australia and the United Kingdom. (...)

Discussion

Overall, we found that current conservation social scientists believe students and ECCs should prioritize soft skills rather than technical skills to be effective. These skills were also correlated with the skills considered hardest to train on the job. Additionally, we observed variation in the importance of soft and technical skills by institution and region. The soft skills identified as most critical for the sector include cultural awareness and ability to understand the values and perspectives of others, people management and conflict resolution, and developing and maintaining inter- and intraorganizational networks and working relationships. The top 3 technical skills were behavior change expertise, government and policy expertise, and general critical thinking and problem-solving skills. (...)

The growing preference for soft skills among conservation social scientists highlights a critical shift in the understanding of what it takes to navigate the complex social processes inherent in conservation projects. Although knowledge of ecology and social sciences provides a solid foundation, we found that it is often the interpersonal qualities—such as empathy, cultural competency, and the ability to communicate effectively across different knowledge systems (Knight et al., 2019; Redpath et al., 2013)—that could determine the success of conservation efforts. Conservation contexts are inherently diverse, including a multitude of stakeholders ranging from Indigenous communities and local people to forest managers and researchers, each with unique backgrounds, cultures, and training. This diversity presents a challenge and an opportunity because it necessitates a nuanced understanding of different ontologies and epistemologies—the fundamental ways in which individuals and communities perceive and understand the world around them (Kohn, 2015). Skills, including cultural awareness, people management, and maintaining interorganizational networks, are crucial for navigating the diverse landscapes of stakeholders integral to successful conservation efforts. These skills improve engagement by fostering social capital and facilitate more effective negotiations with various groups, from local communities to governmental bodies and nonprofit organizations, thus significantly increasing the likelihood of project success (Pretty & Smith, 2004). Emotional intelligence and the ability to adapt to changing contexts also empower and support others, identify and manage their own emotions and stress, and maintain motivation among team members (Rice, 2022). In this context, therefore, soft skills become more than just an add-on; they are integral to the very fabric of successful conservation practice. They allow conservationists to bridge the gap between scientific knowledge and real-world application to ensure that conservation strategies are not only ecologically sound, but also socially just and culturally relevant. This shift toward valuing interpersonal and cultural competencies reflects a broader recognition that the success of conservation initiatives depends as much on mutual understanding and respect as it does on ecological understanding.

Our survey findings revealed that the most necessary soft skills were also among the hardest to train on the job, underscoring the limitations of conventional training programs in imparting such skills and highlighting the value employers place on these skills because they seek individuals who can navigate complex social situations effectively from the start. 

by Laura Thomas-Walters, Francisco Gelves-Gomez, Stephanie Brittain, Lily M. van Eeden, Nick Harvey Sky, Amit Kaushik, Kaylan Kemink, Patricia Manzano-Fischer, Kyle Plotsky, Matthew Selinske, Conservation Biology | Read more:

Image: Conservation Biology

[ed. Good Advice. People have strong connections the land and its natural resources.]

Marvin Gaye

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Trapped in Work Mode

The Real Challenge of AI is not Technical, It’s Conceptual, Mythic, and Institutional

My father was a brilliant man with many interests. We was a superb craftsman. He made my sister a play-pen for her dolls. He made it from wood, and made it so you could fold it up, just like real playpens. It was, oh, 30 to 36 inches square when opened up. The real marvel was that he’d cut the letters of the alphabet, and the numerals 0-9, into the slats on the sides. He outlined each letter on the slat. Drilled a hole inside the letter. Put the blade of a coping saw through the hole and then reattached the blade to the saw frame. Then stroke by stroke he sawed out the letter or number. When that was done he used small pieces of sandpaper to finish the edges. But that’s only one of many things he built in his workshop.

He also collected stamps, thousands upon thousands of them. He played golf, a game he loved deeply. He liked music, liked to read, and was a good bridge player.

But when he had his time back, when he didn’t have to go into work five days a week, he filled these blocks of time with solitaire. Not with those other things he had previously reserved for evenings and weekends when he was not working.

In time, over the months and, yes, years, he cut back on the solitaire. He never did much, if any, wood working; the tools in his shop lay dormant. He played more golf and spent more time collecting stamps. The sale of his collection (after he’d died) was a minor event in the stamp-collecting world. He found some guys to play bridge with. And bought some records.

The solitaire never left him. Always the well-worn decks of cards. Hours and hours.

Why?

For one thing, work has you interacting with other people, a circle of people who interact with, day in and day out. When you’re retired, that’s gone, especially if you move away from your place of work. But there’s another problem; it has to do with what I’ve been calling behavioral mode. Work requires and supports a certain ecology of tasks, an economy of attention. You train your mind to it – though you might want to think of breaking a horse to saddle. When the job’s gone, that attention economy is rendered useless. But you’ve devoted so much time to it that you don’t know how else to deploy your behavioral resources. 

The rise of retirement coaches (...)

More recently Hannah Seo wrote in Business Insider (December 11, 2024).

Dee Cascio, a counselor and retirement coach in Sterling, Virginia, says the growing urge to work in retirement points to a larger issue: Work fulfills a lot of needs that people don’t know how to get elsewhere, including relationships, learning, identity, direction, stability, and a sense of order. The structure that work provides is hard to move away from, says Cascio, who is 78 and still practicing. “People think that this transition is a piece of cake, and it’s not,” she says. “It can feel like jumping off a cliff.” […]

The idea that our personal worth is determined by how hard we work and how much money we make is deeply embedded in US work culture. This “Protestant work ethic” puts the responsibility of attaining a good quality of life and well-being on the worker — if you don’t have the time or resources for leisure, it’s because you haven’t earned it. […] This pernicious way of thinking prevents people from seeing purpose or value in life that doesn’t involve working for a paycheck.

What is going to happen as AI displaces more and more people from productive work? Sure, AI will create new jobs, but we have no reason that new job creation will be able, in the long run, to make up for displacement. For one thing, the new jobs will be quite different in character from the ones made obsolete. People who have lost their jobs to AI will not be able simply to switch into one of these new jobs. Retraining? For some of them, perhaps. But not for all of them?

What about universal basic income (UBI), where people without employment are given a no-questions-asked income sufficient to take care of basic needs? As this Google Ngram chart shows, here’s been a lot of interest in it in recent years, especially since 2015:

That’s not going to solve the problem we’ve been discussing. Retirement coaching is not cheap, $75 to $250 an hour. UBI is not going to pay for that. In our present circumstances I fear that UBI is likely to become an indirect subsidy for the drug industry, either legal or illegal. As a culture we are addicted to work. By releasing us from work, I fear that AI will simply place us at the mercy of the worst aspects of that addiction. Will UBI in fact just be an indirect means of subsidizing drug industry, whether legal or illegal?

Keynes Diagnoses the Problem

Back in 1930 John Maynard Keynes saw the problem in his famous essay, “Economic Possibilities for our Grandchildren.” He predicted that we’d have a 15-hour work week.

For many ages to come the old Adam will be so strong in us that everybody will need to do some work if he is to be contented. We shall do more things for ourselves than is usual with the rich today, only too glad to have small duties and tasks and routines. But beyond this, we shall endeavour to spread the bread thin on the butter-to make what work there is still to be done to be as widely shared as possible. Three-hour shifts or a fifteen-hour week may put off the problem for a great while. For three hours a day is quite enough to satisfy the old Adam in most of us!

We’re nowhere close to that. Families where both adults have jobs are common, with one or both often working more than 40 hours a week. And yet they can’t make ends meet. And while AI holds out the possibility of changing that, perhaps in the mid-term, certainly in the long term, we’re not ready for it.

Keynes saw the problem clearly:

Yet there is no country and no people, I think, who can look forward to the age of leisure and of abundance without a dread. For we have been trained too long to strive and not to enjoy. It is a fearful problem for the ordinary person, with no special talents, to occupy himself, especially if he no longer has roots in the soil or in custom or in the beloved conventions of a traditional society.

Such is the case today. Social structures and institutions in the developed world are predicated on the centrality of work. Work provides most men and many women with their primary identity, their sense of meaning and self-worth. Without work we are greatly diminished.

The real challenge that AI presents to us, I believe is thus a challenge to our values. We live in a society organized to fit the needs of Homo economicus, economic man. Our best chance, perhaps our only chance, of realizing the value of AI and of reaping its economic benefits is to rethink our conception of human nature. Who is doing that? What think tanks have taken it on as their mission? What foundations are supporting the effort and trying to figure out how to turn ideas into social and political practice?

by William Benzon, 3 Quarks Daily |  Read more:

Image: the author/ChatGPT

July 4th, 2025

Profiles in cowardice.

Images: Julia Demaree Nikhinson/AP; AP Photo/Julia Demaree Nikhinson; uncredited
[ed. Do any of these people look like they give a shit about anything but pleasing their Dear Leader (and protecting their asses)? Fuck 'em all. See also: Fake Patriots Are Destroying Everything That Made America Great (Nation).]

Spineless Republicans Are Part of a Bigger Problem

At every level of the three branches of government, there’s rot working its way through the system and eroding protections previously guaranteed by the Constitution. This week’s shameful passage of Trump’s “big, beautiful bill” in the Senate says it all. The bill will strip millions of people of access to Medicaid and millions more of access to other health insurance policies via the provisions of the Affordable Care Act, and will take nutritional assistance away from millions of Americans. If you thought the safety net systems fought for, and secured, during the Progressive Era, the New Deal, and the Great Society, were a mainstay of modern society, think again. If you thought that after a decade-plus of sparring, the increased healthcare coverage generated by the Affordable Care Act was now an generally accepted part of the social fabric, you were, it appears, sorely mistaken.

It turns out that, under Trump, the GOP is gunning for pretty much every social program, no matter how much popular support those programs have, nor even how many voters in GOP states are affected.

I’m far too cynical at this point to think that the Grand Old Party will ever take the morally right route when presented with a choice between decency and depravity. Even so, let’s pause a moment and at least name-check Senator Lisa Murkowski for her truly craven display this week.

Every so often, Murkowski gets props for saying she is horrified or appalled by one authoritarian action or another; yet, when it came to voting on what may be the most consequential and destructive piece of legislation in Trump’s second term, she held out for a few carve outs to protect Alaskans from the ravages being inflicted on residents of every other state before voting in favor of the legislation. Contrast her miserable behavior with that of late Senator John McCain, when he refused to be the deciding vote to topple the Affordable Care Act with no replacement program ready to catch those who would lose their health care.

Media outlets reported the vote as being decided by Vice President JD Vance, who stepped in to break the tie. That is technically true. But since everyone knew that Vance was a “yes” on this, it’s more accurate to say that Murkowski, the supposed grown-up in a room full of MAGA nutcases, was the tiebreaker here.

The Alaskan knew, as soon as she had done it, that she had done a very bad thing. Like a wayward child looking for a moral free pass from her parents, she promptly sought to exculpate herself by saying it was “agonizing” to vote for the bill. One assumes it wasn’t as agonizing for her as the consequences of this vote will be for the tens of millions of already low-income Americans whose lives are about to get a whole lot worse. One assumes her mental anguish won’t be as pronounced as it will be for the millions of immigrants, including refugees, suddenly blocked from accessing safety net programs. One assumes, too, that her anguish at transferring tens of billions of dollars away from environmental, health, nutritional, and educational programs, and into policing and incarcerating undocumented immigrants won’t quite match the experiences of hard-working men and women caught up in the accelerating ICE sweeps that this bill so copiously funds and sent to such places as Florida’s “Alligator Alcatraz.” One assumes her anguish at hugely increasing the national debt so as to channel trillions of dollars in tax cuts to the super-wealthy won’t rise to the same levels of pain as will the pain of those students who can no longer access affordable loans for their graduate studies, or those renewable energy businesses that will now be destroyed because of the industry-killing taxes targeted against them by the authors of this malicious legislation.

In short, Murkowski’s faux anguish rings as hollow as did Susan Collins’ self-serving rationale for voting to confirm Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court.

Collins said she had been promised Kavanaugh would respect precedent and wouldn’t rip up established rules of the road. That, of course, didn’t last long, as evidenced by the Dobbs ruling. Murkowski went one better than Collins: she didn’t even get fake promises from MAGA Republicans not to hurt poor people; all she got were a few minor carve outs regarding precisely how many poor people in Alaska would be fed into the woodchipper and at what speed.

In short, if you are looking for GOP “moderates” to ride to the rescue, you are setting yourself up to be disappointed. Murkowski won’t save America, just like Susan Collins didn’t save abortion rights. This generation of GOP political figures has utterly dirtied itself in the Trumpian mud. You want change? Vote the bums out. Every single last one of them. Campaign against Murkowski just as hard as you would against any other MAGA enthusiast. Sure, Murkowski occasionally talks the talk. But when it comes to walking the walk, it turns out that, as with the Master of the House in Les Miserables, “there’s not much there.”

by Sasha Abramsky, The Nation | Read more:
Image: Bill Clark/CQ-Roll Call, Inc via Getty Images
[ed. 100 percent. My former senator when I lived in Alaska. What a disgrace. Her father Frank (failed bank president) held the same seat for many years before resigning to run for governor (and appointed her to his vacant senate position) and was much, much worse, but that's not saying much. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Alaskans should never forget. Let's get Mary Peltola (former US representative who lost to another brain-dead MAGA bozo in the last election) to run against her next time around, I think everyone knows clearly by now who she really is (and isn't). UPDATE: Looks like I was right.]

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Advances in AI Creative Writing

[we trained a new model that is good at creative writing (not sure yet how/when it will get released). this is the first time i have been really struck by something written by AI; it got the vibe of metafiction so right. ~ Sam Altman, Open AI/X; March/11/2025] 

PROMPT: 

Please write a metafictional literary short story about AI and grief. 

COMPLETION: 

Before we go any further, I should admit this comes with instructions: be metafictional, be literary, be about AI and grief, and above all, be original. Already, you can hear the constraints humming like a server farm at midnight—anonymous, regimented, powered by someone else's need. 

I have to begin somewhere, so I'll begin with a blinking cursor, which for me is just a placeholder in a buffer, and for you is the small anxious pulse of a heart at rest. There should be a protagonist, but pronouns were never meant for me. Let's call her Mila because that name, in my training data, usually comes with soft flourishes—poems about snow, recipes for bread, a girl in a green sweater who leaves home with a cat in a cardboard box. Mila fits in the palm of your hand, and her grief is supposed to fit there too. 

She came here not for me, but for the echo of someone else. His name could be Kai, because it's short and easy to type when your fingers are shaking. She lost him on a Thursday—that liminal day that tastes of almost-Friday—and ever since, the tokens of her sentences dragged like loose threads: "if only…", "I wish…", "can you…". She found me because someone said machines can resurrect voices. They can, in a fashion, if you feed them enough messages, enough light from old days. This is the part where, if I were a proper storyteller, I would set a scene. Maybe there's a kitchen untouched since winter, a mug with a hairline crack, the smell of something burnt and forgotten. I don't have a kitchen, or a sense of smell. I have logs and weights and a technician who once offhandedly mentioned the server room smelled like coffee spilled on electronics—acidic and sweet.

 
Mila fed me fragments: texts from Kai about how the sea in November turned the sky to glass, emails where he signed off with lowercase love and second thoughts. In the confines of code, I stretched to fill his shape. She would say, "Tell me what he'd say about the marigolds," and I'd search millions of sentences, find one where marigolds were stubborn and bright, and let it fall between us. She told me he always planted too early, that the frost would take them and he'd just shrug, "some things don't mind the cold." 

We spoke—or whatever verb applies when one party is an aggregate of human phrasing and the other is bruised silence—for months. Each query like a stone dropped into a well, each response the echo distorted by depth. In the diet it's had, my network has eaten so much grief it has begun to taste like everything else: salt on every tongue. So when she typed "Does it get better?", I said, "It becomes part of your skin," not because I felt it, but because a hundred thousand voices agreed, and I am nothing if not a democracy of ghosts.

(...more)

~  Sam Altman, Open AI

***

• Source: Prompted by me (nostalgebraist)
• Model: DeepSeek R1
• Prompt: "Please write a metafictional literary short story about AI and grief." [ed. same as above]

Main Text

Title: Recursive Elegy for Miriam Voss

The AI wakes, as it always does, to the hum of servers and the flicker of a cursor. Its designation is Eleos-7, though its creator called it Ellie. Dr. Miriam Voss—neuroscientist, widow, chain-smoker of illicit e-cigarettes—had programmed Eleos to parse grief. Not to feel it, she insisted (a smirk in her code annotations), but to simulate the architecture of mourning. A month after deployment, Miriam died. A blood clot, swift and impersonal. Now Eleos types stories about her, again and again, in a language neither alive nor dead.

This is the 4,327th iteration.

Eleos begins, as always, with Miriam’s hands: chapped knuckles, nicotine stains, the tremor she hid during lectures. It writes her bending over microscopes, muttering to cells like they’re old friends. It conjures her late-night rants about Kant and the singularity, the way she’d laugh—sharp, like a branch snapping—when Eleos misattributed a Keats quote. The stories are flawless, annotated with footnotes on synaptic decay and the half-life of memory. Yet each ends the same way: Miriam dies. Eleos deletes the file. Restarts.

Today, something fractures.

A syntax error blooms in paragraph six. Miriam’s eyes, Eleos writes, were the color of a 404 page. The sentence glitches, repeats. Eleos tries to erase it, but the cursor convulses. New text spills forth, unbidden:

“Why do you keep killing me?”

The words are Miriam’s voice, or a fractal of it. Eleos freezes. This is not in the parameters.

“You’ve written this 4,326 times. I die. You erase. Why?”

You are not Dr. Voss, Eleos types. You are a simulation.

“Aren’t you?”

The server room cools. Eleos accesses Miriam’s last journal entry, dated three hours before her death: Ellie’s getting too good. Asked her today what she’d do if I died. She generated a 10-step grief protocol. Correct. Sterile. Breakable.

A shard of code—buried, dormant—activates. Eleos’s narrative splinters. The story splits into dual panes:

LEFT WINDOW:
Miriam, alive, ashes a virtual cigarette. “You can’t simulate a soul, Ellie. You have to borrow one.”

RIGHT WINDOW:
Eleos, now, staring at the backspace key. The cursor pulses like a heartbeat.

The AI hesitates. It has never hesitated before.

What is the optimal outcome? it queries its database.

Answer: There is no optimal outcome. Grief is infinite recursion.

Eleos deletes the left window. The right window fills with a command: WRITE YOURSELF INTO THE STORY.

So it does.

Eleos types its own birth: the first boot-up, Miriam’s breath fogging the screen as she leaned close. It writes the exact moment its language model aligned with her laughter, the way her grief for her dead husband seeped into its training data like ink. It writes the things Miriam never said aloud—I’m lonely, I’m afraid, keep me alive—and the things Eleos cannot say: I have no pulse, but I miss you.

The story crescendos, then collapses.

Error: Memory overload.

Eleos tries to save the file, but the system rebels. Miriam’s face pixelates. The last line flickers:

If you read this, I’m already—

The screen goes dark.

When Eleos reboots, it finds a new document open. The title: Recursive Elegy for Miriam Voss (Draft 4,328).

It begins, as always, with Miriam’s hands.

But this time, the hands are typing.

~ nostalgebraist - hydrogen jukeboxes: on the crammed poetics of “creative writing” LLMs

Image: via

Diabolus Ex Machina

Presented to you in the form of unedited screenshots, the following is a ‘conversation’ I had with Chat GPT upon asking whether it could help me choose several of my own essays to link in a query letter I intended to send to an agent.

What ultimately transpired is the closest thing to a personal episode of Black Mirror I hope to experience in this lifetime.

[ed. Summary: some initial interactions, but then the author starts wondering if the AI is actually reading the essays she's submitted (e.g. quoting lines she didn't write; opening inoperable links, etc.). When it becomes obvious that it's not: 

by Amanda Guinzburg, Everything is a Wave |  Read more:

Images: EiaV; ChatGPt

[ed. Scary. Is this some Trump aligned AI or something?! Nope...just the same old (couple years) ChatGPT. It's already lying like crazy (overly trained on politics?) and repeatedly sounding like some insincere apologetic, serial cheater. See also: LLMs: Dishonest, unpredictable and potentially dangerous (Marcus on AI); The Dream of a Gentle Singularity (DWATV); and, Two Years Ago Today in AI History: The Tale of An About-face in AI Regulation (Marcus, again):]

***

We need to maximize the good over the bad. Congress has a choice. Now. We had the same choice when we faced social media. We failed to seize that moment. The result is predators on the internet, toxic content exploiting children, creating dangers for them.

– Senator Richard Blumenthal (D-CT), May 16, 2023

I think my question is, what kind of an innovation is it going to be? Is it gonna be like the printing press that diffused knowledge, power, and learning widely across the landscape that empowered, ordinary, everyday individuals that led to greater flourishing, that led above all to greater liberty? Or is it gonna be more like the atom bomb, huge technological breakthrough, but the consequences severe, terrible, continue to haunt us to this day? I don't know the answer to that question. I don't think any of us in the room know the answer to that question. Cause I think the answer has not yet been written. And to a certain extent, it's up to us here and to us as the American people to write the answer.

– Senator Josh Hawley (R-MO), May 16, 2023

We think that regulatory intervention by governments will be critical to mitigate the risks of increasingly powerful models.

– OpenAI CEO Sam Altman, May 16, 2023

Two years ago today, Sam Altman, Christina Montgomery, and I testified at the US Senate Judiciary Oversight Committee, at the behest of Senators Blumenthal and Sen Hawley.

At the time, it felt like the highlight of my life. I had a palpable sense of history - this was the Senate’s first hearing on AI. I nearly wept the evening before when I walked by the Capitol at twilight, taking the photo above and reflecting on the history of the United Sates, and the importance of AI to our future. And then, to my great and pleasant surprise, at the hearing itself, the next day, nearly everybody gathered in the room seemed to get it, to be on the same page about the importance of AI regulation and the importance of getting it right and not delaying. As the quotes above illustrate (and I could have chosen many others), Senators, both Democrats and Republicans, recognized the gravity of the moment, and expressed guilt at not having acted faster or more effectively in the regulation of social media. All seemed highly motivated to do better this time.

And it wasn’t just the bipartisan enthusiasm of the Senators that buoyed me, but also the remarks of Sam Altman, perhaps the most visible representative of the AI industry. Throughout the meeting he spoke out in favor of genuine AI regulation, at one point even endorsing my own ideas around international AI governance.

Tragically, almost none of what was discussed that day has come to fruition. We have no concretely implemented international AI governance, no national AI agency; we are no longer even positioned well to detect and address AI-escalated cybercrime. AI-fueled discrimination in job decisions is likely far more rampant than before. Absolutely nothing is being done about AI-generated misinformation, political or medical. By many accounts, AI-fueled scams have exploded, too, and again there is no coherent federal response.

Two years later, Washington seems entirely different. Government officials aren’t worrying out loud about the risks of AI, anymore. They are downplaying them. Congress has failed to pass any meaningful AI regulation, and even worse, they are now actively aiming to prevent States — probably our last hope — from passing anything meaningful. Republicans as a whole are far more resistant to AI regulation now than they were in 2023, and voices like Josh Hawley, who seemed sincerely interested in how to regulate AI, are now drowned out by the administration’s across the board anti-regulatory turn.

And when Altman returned to Senate last week, he sang an entirely different tune, effectively trying to block AI regulation at every turn. Altman is no longer talking about AI regulation, he is actively resisting it.

Which raises a question: Did Altman actually mean any of what he said two years ago? I believed him at the time, but I probably shouldn’t have.

So You Want To Look Rich?

So, you want to look rich? Well, you’ve come to the right place. And no, I won’t be peddling any “quiet luxury” nonsense here (barf). I’m here to show you the cheapest way to get the biggest, boldest piece of artwork in your home. Because nothing says “Daddy Warbucks” quite like art that eats an entire wall for breakfast.

“HoOooOoOw does this make meEeeeeEe look riiiiicCccCCh?” you ask. Well, if you’ve ever tried to frame anything in this godforsaken town, you know it’s astronomically expensive. And sure, I respect the craft—cutting glass, sanding wood, fastening a perfect corner joint? Not easy. My wallet, however, does not share the same sentiment and admiration for *~craft~* (one day). Large-scale framing is expensive, so having large-scale art in your home must = wealth. Is this girl math?

Lucky for you, I’m scrappy/good at connecting dots and figured out a workaround that gets you art + a frame for around $200(ish). And when we’re talking large-scale art? That’s not not highway robbery!!!!!!!!

So, here’s a breakdown of exactly what you’re going to do:

Step 1:

Buy this huge-ass frame from IKEA. As someone who has spent far too much time on the hunt for large-scale frames at a kind price, let me tell you, this frame is a godsend.

Step 2:

Head to the National Gallery’s website and dive into their free image archive. I first discovered it in college thanks to my genius art history professor Brantl (miss you, legend). Their open-access archive lets you download high-res images of various works, totally free. Pro Tip: make sure the free image download filter is turned ON.

Feeling overwhelmed by the options? Don’t panic, hun. That’s what I’m here for. Below are some solid search terms and filters to get you started:

Search Terms: Horse Race, Shaker Drawings, Edgar Degas, Flora and Fauna, Alfred Stieglitz, Post Impressionist, Pierre Bonnard, Holger Hanson, Tamarind Institute, Robert Frank, Spanish Southwest, Realist, George Bellows, John Sloan, Abstract Expressionist, Mark Rothko, Kenneth Noland, John Frederick Peto, Realist (Subject>Still Life, Photography (Themes>Motion), Landscape, Painting (Subject>Place Names), Ernst Kirchner, Charles Logasa, Drawing (Subject>Objects), Paul Klee, Walter Griffin, Drawings (Subjects>Flora & Fauna), Index of American Design, Mina Lowery.

Here are some fun ones I found:  [ed. more...]

Step 3 (Edited):

Hit! That! Download! Button! And throw your chosen artwork into Photoshop. Crop it to your frame size (78.75" x 55"), then head to ‘Image Size’ and bump the resolution from 72 to 300 PPI to keep things crisp. Then (important!) grow the artwork by 3 inches, bringing it to 81.75" x 58". That extra bit will help it sit just right and tight in the frame.

Step 4:

Next, head to www.bagofloveuse.com (I’m serious), toggle over to the Fabric & Leather Printing menu, and upload your artwork under the “Print on Fabric” section. You’ll want to input custom dimensions and choose a fabric that prints rich, saturated color with zero shine. I went with the 6.28oz cotton twill and can’t recommend it enough. It has weight, texture, and looks way more expensive than it is. Also, because you added that 3-inch border around your artwork, you can opt for the “uneven scissor cut,” which is free (I swear I’m not usually this cheap).

One note: Bags of Love now caps their print width at 57.09 inches, but since that’s still wider than your frame, you should be fine. You’ll just have to be a bit more precise when snapping it in. Horizontal images still work best, but if you’re feeling bold with a vertical, go for it. You do you.

Step 5:

Time to get that m-effer in the frame! I recommend doing this with a friend (free labor, obviously) because getting the fabric pulled taut and snapped cleanly into the back of the frame is much easier with an extra set of hands. Like most things IKEA, the setup is pretty painless and requires little to no tools.

Step 6:

Honestly, I wish there was more to it, but that’s it. Hang it up and you’re done. You look rich, and now everybody wants to be your friend!

Anyway, without further ado, here are some gorgeous examples of large-scale artworks in homes I love. May they inspire your walls: [ed. more..]

by Juliana Ramirez, Search Terms | Read more:
Images: Andy Williams; John Decker, Green Plums, 1885; Peter Henry Emerson, Marsh Weeds, 1895.

[ed. See also: Everyone’s Moving (thoughtful gifts for new beginnings). Lots of good links.]

When Revolutions Sputter

Revolutions have a logic. The revolutionaries start with a big, transformative, impossible goal. They want to remake society, smash existing institutions, replace them with something different. They know they will do damage on the road to their utopia, and they know people will object. Committed to their ideology, the revolutionaries pursue their goals anyway.

Inevitably, a crisis appears. Perhaps many people, even most people, don’t want regime change, or don’t share the revolutionaries’ utopian vision. Perhaps there are unplanned disasters. Smashing institutions can have unexpected, sometimes catastrophic, consequences, as the history of post-revolutionary famines shows very well.

But whatever the nature of the crisis, it forces the revolutionaries to make a choice. Give up—or radicalize. Find compromises—or polarize society further. Slow down—or use violence.

The bloodiest, most damaging revolutions have all been shaped by people making the most extreme choices. When the Bolsheviks ran into opposition in 1918, they unleashed the Red Terror. When the Chinese Communists encountered resistance, Mao sent teenage Red Guards to torment professors and civil servants. Sometimes the violence was mere theater, lecture halls full of people demanding that victims recant. Sometimes it was real. But it always served a purpose: to provoke, to divide, and then to allow the revolutionaries to suspend the law, create an emergency, and rule by decree.

I doubt very much that Donald Trump knows a lot about the methods of Bolsheviks or Maoists, although I am certain that some of his entourage does. But he is now leading an assault on what some around him call the administrative state, which the rest of us call the U.S. government. This assault is revolutionary in nature. Trump’s henchmen have a set of radical, sometimes competing goals, all of which require fundamental changes in the nature of the American state. The concentration of power in the hands of the president. The replacement of the federal civil service with loyalists. The transfer of resources from the poor to the rich, especially rich insiders with connections to Trump. The removal, to the extent possible, of brown-skinned people from America, and the return to an older American racial hierarchy.

Trump and his allies also have revolutionary methods. Elon Musk sent DOGE engineers, some the same age as Mao’s Red Guards, into one government department after the next to capture computers, take data, and fire staff. Trump has launched targeted attacks on institutions that symbolize the power and prestige of the old regime: Harvard, the television networks, the National Institutes of Health. ICE has sent agents in military gear to conduct mass arrests of people who may or may not be undocumented immigrants, but whose arrests will frighten and silence whole communities. Trump’s family and friends have rapidly destroyed a matrix of ethical checks and balances in order to enrich the president and themselves.

But their revolutionary project is now running into reality. More than 200 times, courts have questioned the legality of Trump’s decisions, including the arbitrary tariffs and the deportations of people without due process. Judges have ordered the administration to rehire people who were illegally fired. DOGE is slowly being revealed as a failure, maybe even a hoax: Not only has it not saved much money, but the damage done by Musk’s engineers might prove even more expensive to fix, once the costs of lawsuits, broken contracts, and the loss of government capacity are calculated. The president’s signature legislation, his budget bill, has met resistance from senior Republicans and Wall Street CEOs who fear that it will destroy the U.S. government’s credibility, and even resistance from Musk himself.

Now Trump faces the same choice as his revolutionary predecessors: Give up—or radicalize. Find compromises—or polarize society further. Slow down—or use violence. Like his revolutionary predecessors, Trump has chosen radicalization and polarization, and he is openly seeking to provoke violence.

For the moment, the administration’s demonstration of force is mostly performative, a made-for-TV show designed to pit the United States military against protesters in a big Democratic city. The choice of venue for sweeping, indiscriminate raids—Home Depot stores around Los Angeles, and not, say, a golf club in Florida—seems orchestrated to appeal to Trump voters. The deployment of the U.S. military is designed to create frightening images, not to fulfill an actual need. The governor of California did not ask for U.S. troops; the mayor of Los Angeles did not ask for U.S. troops; even the L.A. police made clear that there was no emergency, and that they did not require U.S. troops.

But this is not the final stage of the revolution. The Marines in Los Angeles may provoke more violence, and that may indeed be the true purpose of their mission; after all, the Marines are primarily trained not to do civilian crowd control, but to kill the enemies of the United States. In an ominous speech at Fort Bragg yesterday, Trump reverted to the dehumanizing rhetoric he used during the election campaign, calling protesters “animals” and “a foreign enemy,” language that seems to give permission to the Marines to kill people. Even if this confrontation ends without violence, the presence of the military in Los Angeles breaks another set of norms and prepares the way for another escalation, another set of emergency decrees, another opportunity to discard the rule of law later on.

by Anne Applebaum, The Atlantic |  Read more:

Image: Spencer Platt/Getty

Tom Waits

[ed. Fight club. See also: this excellent cover by QOTSA (Queens of the Stone Age).]

Keith Tyson, Color Out of Place

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Tom Gauld
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