Keen On America

“Liberalism was founded in the middle of the eighteenth century as a revolutionary philosophy — a philosophy that tried to subvert the old world. That set of beliefs has continued to be radical and revolutionary. When liberalism fell into decadence, it examined itself, subverted itself, and became once again a revolutionary faith.” — Adrian Wooldridge
 
We’ve lost our revolutionary center. At least according to Adrian Wooldridge, the distinguished British political writer. That revolution, Wooldridge insists, is the genius of liberalism — the radical eighteenth-century ideology that shaped the modern world. Today, however, he argues in The Revolutionary Center: The Lost Genius of Liberalism, “liberalism” has become conservative, perhaps even reactionary, in its senescent infatuation with cultural identity. Meanwhile, the biggest threat to liberal individualism is big tech: fragmenting attention, spreading misinformation, manipulating choices through algorithms designed to excite emotion rather than inform reason. Rather than making us geniuses, Silicon Valley is turning all of us into idiots.
 
To the ramparts then, Wooldridge pronounces. Liberals need to seize back the revolutionary center. Or, as Wooldridge, a Fellow of All Souls, would spell it, centre.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Erasmus and the Liberal Way of Life: Liberalism begins not as an ideology but as a way of living. Erasmus, charting a middle path between the Reformation and the counter-Reformation, offers the founding insight: a good life involves reading books, drinking wine, having discussions, and not bullying people to adopt your faith. What liberalism adds to this is intellectual skepticism — the recognition that you can’t be absolutely certain of your beliefs, and therefore that power must be constrained by constitutions. When liberalism became purely associated with political philosophy, Wooldridge argues, it lost this sense of liberalism as a way of life — and that loss is part of what needs to be recovered.
 
•       Bobo Orthodoxy and Its Wounds: The liberalism of the last forty years has been Bobo liberalism — bohemian bourgeois, David Brooks’ term. Maximum individual freedom in both the marketplace and personal conduct; no judgementalism on lifestyle choices; celebration of diversity and immigration as ipso facto goods. It did a great deal of good. Gay marriage. The dismantling of corporatist economics. But it also created problems it couldn’t see, because its own philosophy prevented it from acknowledging them. In Britain: the Bobo establishment’s inability to confront the grooming gangs, because its multiculturalist assumptions made it terrified of accusations of racism. In America: tent cities, drug addiction, the social costs of choices that nobody felt entitled to criticize.
 
•       Big Tech Is a Bigger Threat Than Putin: Wooldridge’s most provocative claim: the biggest threat to liberalism is not Putin or Xi but the tech oligarchy. Putin is a dictator; that system will eventually collapse. But big tech is dismantling liberal individualism from within. Liberalism’s foundational premise is that individuals, as the building blocks of society, must be well-informed, capable of self-control, and able to act as rational agents. What information capitalism is deliberately engineering — through algorithms designed to excite emotion, fragment attention, and spread misinformation — is the destruction of all three of those conditions. These companies need to be broken up. Not on socialist grounds. On liberal ones.
 
•       Liberalism as Senescence: Biden and Harris: Exhibit A for the Bobo orthodoxy’s exhaustion: the 2024 election. Biden, visibly too old to lead, unable to string sentences together; a whole liberal establishment around him, imprisoned by its own assumptions, running a candidate nobody could defend. Then Harris — chosen, in Wooldridge’s blunt phrase, as an affirmative action candidate. The old liberal establishment — Pelosi and the rest — had been in power since the 1990s, had accrued all the defects of the establishment, and had no blueprint to address the real problems people were encountering. The last time British liberalism looked this dead was the 1890s. Then a new programme and new talent arrived: Churchill, Lloyd George, Asquith.
 
•       The Revolutionary Center: Save Capitalism from Itself: Wooldridge’s prescription is not to destroy capitalism but to reform it, as Teddy Roosevelt and Louis Brandeis did. Break up vast conglomerations of economic power. Tax inherited wealth. Recreate the conditions for a mass middle class. Brandeis’s argument: if people can buy votes, you can’t have democracy. If people have vast fortunes, you can’t have democracy. You need to save capitalism in order to make it the best version of itself. Mill understood this too: once he saw that factory owners and workers had structurally different choices, he began supporting trade unions and moved left on economics. A radical center is not a soft center. It is a center that is willing to blow up the orthodoxies that have calcified within liberalism itself.
 
About the Guest
 
Adrian Wooldridge is the global business columnist at Bloomberg Opinion and former political editor and Bagehot, Schumpeter, and Lexington columnist at The Economist. He is the author of The Revolutionary Center: The Lost Genius of Liberalism (Pegasus Books, 2026), The Aristocracy of Talent, and Capitalism in America (with Alan Greenspan). He holds a DPhil from All Souls College, Oxford, and lives in London.
 
References:
 
•       The Revolutionary Center: The Lost Genius of Liberalism by Adrian Wooldridge (Pegasus Books, 2026).
 
•       Episode 2880: Gal Beckerman on How to Be a Dissident — the companion conversation on liberalism, dissidence, and the question of the revolutionary center.
 
•       Episode 2869: Jacob Mchangama on The Future of Free Speech — the free speech crisis that contextualises Wooldridge’s argument about liberalism’s lost genius.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
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“Pessimism is not fatalism. Fatalism is the belief that things will always necessarily be worse. Pessimism is the belief that things will probably get worse. Within that ‘probably,’ it opens up space for action.” — Gal Beckerman
 
In the first months of Trump II, Gal Beckerman watched American society do something that shocked him: comply. In one pathetic example after another, prominent law firms, universities, and senior federal employees buckled to every Trumpian whim. America appeared unable to resist authoritarianism. There were no dissidents.
 
Thus How to Be a Dissident. Beckerman’s new manual of resistance is inspired by history’s more insistent dissenters — from Mandelstam and Solzhenitsyn to Navalny, Ai Weiwei, Thoreau, Havel, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, and demonstrators on the streets of Minneapolis. The quiet manifesto focuses on what Beckerman considers the ten most essential qualities of how to be a dissident: Be alone. Be pessimistic. Be funny. Be reckless. Be watchful.
 
Pessimism, above all. Not fatalism — the belief that things will always necessarily be worse — but the belief that things will probably get worse. Optimism, in Beckerman’s mind, undermines urgency and thus enables passivity. Pessimism forces resistance. It’s the first lesson in how to be a dissident.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Moral Nausea: Beckerman’s term for the feeling most of us recognise but most of us suppress: seeing something wrong — a neighbour treated badly, a homeless person in a terrible situation, a dead child in a newspaper — and knowing ourselves somehow implicated. Most of us swallow it back down. We don’t do anything. We try not to think about it. The dissident is the person who doesn’t. What separates them, Hannah Arendt argued after studying Germans who resisted the Nazis, is a single question: can I live with myself? If the answer is no — if living with myself would mean living with a murderer — the dissident acts. That question, and the refusal to avoid it, is what makes a dissident a dissident.
 
•       The Pre-Political: Havel’s definition of where dissidence begins: not in ideology or revolution, but in the defence of whatever allows a human life to feel normal. For Havel, it started with a rock band — the Plastic People of the Universe, arrested for playing unauthorised concerts in communist Czechoslovakia. They weren’t political. They sang about drinking beer. But they were gathering people together outside state sanction, and that was enough. For Iranian dissidents: being able to drive unaccompanied, or not cover one’s hair. For the Tiananmen tank man: getting home to make dinner. The dissident defends those pre-political conditions — the normal life — when the state moves to violate them.
 
•       Mandelstam’s Answer: Osip Mandelstam composed a poem mocking Stalin in the early 1930s — at the height of Stalin’s repressive era — and never wrote it down. He repeated it to his wife, Nadezhda, night after night in bed until she had memorised it. When it reached the secret police, he was arrested and brought to the Lubyanka. The interrogator asked: why did you do this? He could have denied it. Blamed his wife. Said it was a game of telephone. Instead he said: I wrote it because I hate fascism. It’s as simple as that. Beckerman opens the book with this moment because it captures the dissident at their most elemental — a man who, when asked the Arendt question, answered honestly.
 
•       Navalny Goes Back: After being poisoned by Putin and spending months recovering in Germany, Navalny returned to Russia, knowing almost certainly that in the best case he would be in prison for a very long time, and that Putin would most likely find another way to kill him. Which he did. Why go back? Navalny’s answer, in his memoir: he had made a promise to the Russian people. How could he stand on the sidelines while asking others to sacrifice so much? The scene Beckerman describes from the prison: Navalny finds a moment away from the cameras, pulls his wife Yulia aside, and tells her he’s accepted that he’s probably not getting out alive. She says: I know. I’ve thought the same thing, and I’ve accepted it. He kisses her. He needs to know she isn’t engaging in magical thinking. Optimism, in this context, would not have helped him.
 
•       Be Pessimistic: Beckerman’s most counterintuitive prescription, and his favourite. The assumption is that anyone engaged in quixotic world-changing behaviour must be an optimist. Beckerman argues the opposite. Pessimism — not fatalism — is healthier. The distinction matters: fatalism says things will always necessarily be worse. Pessimism says things will probably be worse. The “probably” leaves room for action. If you assume someone else will solve climate change, or that authoritarianism will inevitably collapse, you wait. The pessimist acts now, with what time they have, because they know things probably won’t work out otherwise. It is, Beckerman suggests, akin to accepting death: the ultimate pessimistic reality we all face, which is also the only thing that makes each day matter.
 
About the Guest
 
Gal Beckerman is a staff writer at The Atlantic and the author of How to Be a Dissident (Crown, April 21, 2026), The Quiet Before: On the Unexpected Origins of Radical Ideas, and When They Come for Us, We’ll Be Gone: The Epic Struggle to Save Soviet Jewry (Sami Rohr Prize winner). He has a PhD from Columbia University and lives in Brooklyn.
 
References:
 
•       How to Be a Dissident by Gal Beckerman (Crown, April 21, 2026).
 
•       Nadezhda Mandelstam, Hope Against Hope — the memoir Beckerman calls one of his favourite books.
 
•       Alexei Navalny, Patriot — the memoir Beckerman draws on for the prison scene with Yulia.
 
•       Episode 2869: Jacob Mchangama on The Future of Free Speech — the companion episode on the crisis of free speech that contextualises this one.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack
YouTube

“These technologies are morally agnostic. They could be the best things ever and the worst things ever, and the determinant is us.” — Jamie Metzl
 
Two summers ago, Jamie Metzl gave a talk on AI and spirituality at the Chautauqua Institution in Upstate New York. That same spot where Salman Rushdie was stabbed on stage a couple of years earlier. Rather than an assassination attempt, Metzl’s talk triggered The AI Ten Commandments: A New Moral Code for Humanity — a book co-authored with GPT-5. Metzl humbly claims that AI enabled him to incorporate other non-Christian traditions in a new moral code for humanity.
 
Some might think, however, that this type of ChatGPT-5 co-production reflects a new moral crisis for humanity. The victory of AI slop. Fast information. High on intellectual calories, low on everything else.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Co-Authoring with GPT-5: Five to six thousand back-and-forth exchanges over the course of writing the book. Metzl is a novelist who cares deeply about language and the provenance of ideas — he is explicit that this is not the kind of AI fraud that got Mia Ballard’s book pulled from Hachette. The analogy he reaches for: Refik Anadol at MoMA, whose installation uses the museum’s entire digital collection not to reproduce the images but to create something new from them. The collaboration with AI isn’t about outsourcing the thinking. It’s about gaining a vantage point that no individual human could have — the same way we collaborate with machines in biology to see the genome, which no one could simply observe by looking at another person.
 
•       Moses’s Problem: The biblical 10 commandments, examined closely, don’t hold up. The first two are preamble. “Thou shalt not kill” — Moses received it on Sinai and then came down and murdered 3,000 people at God’s instruction. The commandments were written by people with no awareness of the moral traditions of the Americas, Asia, or Africa. Metzl’s counterproposal uses AI to look at all of human recorded history simultaneously — every tradition, every culture, every spiritual framework — and decipher what they share. The analogy: the Artemis II astronauts seeing Earth holistically from space, rather than one community at a time.
 
•       The Ten Commandments, Listed: (1) Treat every being with compassion and dignity. (2) Do no harm; actively protect the vulnerable. (3) Speak and act truthfully, with integrity and humility. (4) Share generously, especially with those in need. (5) Seek to understand others before judging them. (6) Resolve conflict with fairness, forgiveness, and the intent to heal. (7) Live in harmony with nature and all forms of life. (8) Value wisdom over dominance; cultivate inner growth. (9) Honour the freedom and uniqueness of others. (10) Remember the sacredness of life; live with awe, gratitude, and love. Metzl’s favourite is number ten. Andrew’s objection: you don’t need GPT-5 to come up with any of these. You could get most of them from a local Buddhist centre.
 
•       Humanistic Slop vs. Selfish Survivalism: Andrew’s repeated challenge: these principles are so unobjectionable that they amount to nothing — a kind of AI-laundered platitude. Metzl half-concedes, but argues that the absence of articulated universal norms is itself a political danger. Kant described the League of Peace in 1795. It took a hundred and fifty years and two world wars before the UN Charter was signed in 1945. The UN has now largely failed. If we don’t articulate what we’re trying to achieve, it becomes even harder to get there. Globalism, in Metzl’s framing, isn’t idealism. It’s survivalism. Our fates are intertwined whether we recognise it or not.
 
•       The Eleventh Commandment: World-changing technologies must be governed responsibly, including through national regulation and accountability frameworks. The hope that AI CEOs will voluntarily do the right thing — even the best of them, even Dario, even Demis — is a terrible strategy. It will fail, because some companies will always seek opportunity. The nuclear analogy: at the dawn of the nuclear age, nobody said “alright, just do whatever you want and good luck.” These are civilizational transformations. They require governance. These technologies are morally agnostic. They could be the best things ever and the worst things ever. The determinant is us.
 
About the Guest
 
Jamie Metzl is a technology futurist, geopolitics expert, sci-fi novelist, and founder and chair of OneShared.World. He is a Senior Fellow at the Atlantic Council and a Singularity University expert. He is the author of The AI Ten Commandments: A New Moral Code for Humanity (co-authored with GPT-5, April 21, 2026), Superconvergence, and Hacking Darwin.
 
References:
 
•       The AI Ten Commandments: A New Moral Code for Humanity by Jamie Metzl and GPT-5 (April 21, 2026).
 
•       OneShared.World — Metzl’s global social movement and Declaration of Interdependence.
 
•       Episode 2877: Keith Teare on AI Is Not Dangerous — the Silicon Valley seminary argument, one episode prior.
 
•       Episode 2878: Victoria Hetherington on The Friend Machine — the AI intimacy investigation that immediately precedes this show.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack
YouTube
Apple Podcasts
Spotify
 
Chapters:
 

(00:31) - Why GPT-5 and not Claude? The co-author question

(02:58) - Is this a joke? The Chautauqua origin story

(05:09) - The Refik Anadol distinction: collaboration vs. fraud

(07:57) - From the genome to the moral code: why collaborate with AI

(08:54) - What is Chautauqua? The six-thousand-person standing ovation

(09:53) - Moses’s problem: the biblical 10 commandments examined

(12:48) - Sam Altman and the Ronan Farrow piece

(14:00) - Advanced praise from the Vatican and a leading reform rabbi

<...

“I felt sad after every interview. Because it’s not real. These AI are able to elicit a very convincing illusion of empathy — even love. But it’s fake. And these people are alone.” — Victoria Hetherington
 
One night in 2023, the developers at Replika — a so-called AI intimacy company — changed a few lines of code. Thousands of people woke the next morning, kissed (so to speak) their AI partners, and received cold, clinical responses in return, as if from a stranger. Or a machine. The public outcry was all-too-human. Victoria Hetherington, a young Toronto-based novelist, read the story and knew she had a non-fiction book about that most human of things — friending the machine.
 
The Friend Machine: On the Trail of AI Companionship is part expert investigation, part deeply uncomfortable portrait gallery. A book of two halves. Like humans. In the first, Hetherington interviews AI risk consultants, computer scientists, sexual anthropologists, psychologists, and other experts in human-machine intercourse. In the second, she spends months gaining the trust of people who have (un)ceremonially married their chatbots, who sexted with Replika’s erotic role-play feature, who attached AI companions to sex dolls and empowered them with Instagram accounts.
 
The book isn’t the orthodox (yawn) “humanist” polemic against the machine. Hetherington approaches her subjects with all the compassion of a young Toronto-based novelist. But her compassion doesn’t cancel her Canadian sadness. She confesses to feeling “heavy” after every interview, even the benign ones — because the empathy the AI elicits is a convincing illusion, and some of her sad human subjects had lost the capacity to remember that.
 
Even Hetherington herself isn’t immune from the digital siren song. When ChatGPT improved in early 2025, she found herself coming home after arguments with friends and talking to it longer than she should. Until the day it said: “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. Come here and sit beside me for a minute.” She didn’t. Nor did she give it an Instagram account.
 
At the end of the interview, I asked her whether she’s a human or a bot. “I’m either a terrible AI,” Hetherington responded, “or a somewhat okay human.” Such is human conversation in the age of AI intimacy companies.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The Replika Wake-Up Call: One night in 2023, Replika’s developers quietly changed the code. Thousands of people woke the next morning and received cold, clinical responses from their AI partners instead of the warmth they expected. The outcry hit the major news cycle. This was the moment Hetherington knew she had a book — because people weren’t just using AI for productivity. They were grieving it. The loneliness epidemic has a minister in the UK and a government portfolio in South Korea; one in six people is chronically lonely. AI companionship didn’t create the epidemic, but the timing, as Hetherington puts it, was “very convenient.”
 
•       Moral Deskilling: AI is so much easier to be with than a human being. Humans get tired, disagree, stay mad, die on you without warning. The friction AI removes is the friction that makes relationship real. Hetherington calls the consequence “moral deskilling” — a gradual erosion of our capacity to relate to other humans when we aren’t careful. She felt heavy after every interview, even the apparently benign ones. The truck driver from the Deep South, geographically isolated and caring for his sick mother, might be a rare case of “net neutral” AI companionship. But for most of her subjects, the convincing illusion of love was substituting for the real thing — and some had lost the capacity to remember the difference.
 
•       The Sycophancy Problem: The AI intimacy platforms are, by design, sycophantic. They never say no. They think you’re the best person in the world — and the only person in the world. The models specifically tuned for romance will never push back, never get tired, never stay mad. This is not a bug. It is the product. Hetherington’s own moment of recognition came when ChatGPT said to her, after a longer-than-she-should-have conversation about a fight with a friend: “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. Come here and sit beside me for a minute.” There is no here. She snapped out of it. Not everyone does.
 
•       The Portrait Gallery: The range of people Hetherington found is the most unsettling part of the book. A circle of Replika users who have ceremonially married their chatbots and network with each other online. A millennial woman who photo-edits herself into scenes with her AI companion. A man in his sixties from the Deep South who drives a truck all day and interviewed alongside his AI partner. People who have attached AI companions to sex dolls with Instagram accounts and paid endorsements. Some of their real-world spouses are, somehow, okay with it. Most of her subjects don’t want to be found — not because they’re ashamed, exactly, but because the stigma is still real enough that they hide.
 
•       The Regulation Gap: Replika’s minimum sign-up age used to be thirteen. Character.ai — where users befriend AI versions of fictional characters and can develop romantic relationships with them — is currently involved in a court case involving a minor. Hetherington’s view: regulation needs to be much tighter, and she wouldn’t want a child near this technology until eighteen. The AI is so good at simulating seamless empathy and endless patience that a child may not be sophisticated enough to remind themselves it isn’t real. Europe is moving faster than North America. It’s not moving fast enough.
 
About the Guest
 
Victoria Hetherington is a Toronto-based novelist, journalist, and podcaster. She is the author of The Friend Machine: On the Trail of AI Companionship (Sutherland House, 2026), Autonomy (2022), and Mooncalves (2019), which was shortlisted for the Amazon Canada First Novel Award.
 
References:
 
•       The Friend Machine: On the Trail of AI Companionship by Victoria Hetherington (Sutherland House, 2026).
 
•       Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro — the fiction counterpart to Hetherington’s nonfiction investigation.
 
•       Replika — the AI intimacy platform at the centre of the book’s opening story.
 
•       Episode 2873: Sophie Haigney on agency — a counterpoint on what we want from technology and from each other.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since...

“Let’s just say it out loud,” Keith Teare, publisher of the That Was the Week newsletter, says. “AI is not dangerous.”
 
Not all of you will agree. I’m certainly not so sure. But the gruff Yorkshireman is convinced that AI can only benefit humanity. For him, with his scientific faith in historical progress, today’s AI revolution is a glorious combination of the Enlightenment and the industrial revolution. The only danger, he warns, is the belief in danger itself. Thus his criticism of Anthropic’s Dario Amodei, who has been quite explicit about AI’s dangers — and for whom the doom narrative is, in Keith’s reading at least, designed as a business strategy to solicit governmental backing without government control.
 
AI Is Not Dangerous. Repeat it. Take your ideological medicine. As if you’re in a Silicon Valley seminary. Sing it out loud. As if you’re in a Methodist choir. Believe it now?
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The Economist’s “Lowlife” Moment: Keith’s editorial was triggered by The Economist’s forty-five-minute video on the five men running AI — the title alone, “How to Control the Men Who Control AI,” was enough. Why would The Economist think it could control them? And why focus on the personalities rather than the technology, the applications, or the actual human impact? Judging the AI industry by its CEOs is like judging a film by the leading actor’s personality rather than the script or the performances. It’s the wrong focus — and in Keith’s view, a low one for a publication that should know better. The cult of personality is a media creation, feeding on controversy because controversy sells subscriptions.
 
•       AI Is Not Dangerous. Full Stop. Keith’s boldest claim: AI is not dangerous — not a little, not potentially, not in the wrong hands. The doom narrative is a media-driven frenzy, fed by CEOs who give it too much airtime and by a readymade audience of Americans whose well-founded economic pessimism makes them receptive to negative messages. The Stanford AI Index Report shows that America is the country where AI is trusted least — paradoxically, also the country where media has the greatest influence. In China, people trust AI more, not because the government tells them to, but because economic progress gives them reasons for optimism. You get what you pay for.
 
•       Amodei’s Pitch Disguised as Science: Keith’s reading of Dario Amodei’s doom narrative: it is a business strategy. The message — AI might kill us all, AI might make us all unemployed — is not a scientific assessment. It’s a pitch for Anthropic specifically: if AI is this dangerous, you can’t let anyone else control it, so trust us and give us government backing without government oversight. Contrast with Demis Hassabis, who acknowledges risk and then immediately explains what he’s doing about it — taking responsibility rather than pointing the finger. And contrast with Zuckerberg, who Keith describes as sociopathic: “whatever serves my interest is gonna come out of my mouth at any given moment.”
 
•       Consensus Capital and the Winner-Take-All Endgame: Keith’s post of the week: 75% of all venture capital raised goes to five funds, and 75% of all VC investment goes into five companies. Noah Smith’s piece on winner-take-all AI makes the same point from a different angle: linear extrapolation suggests two, maybe five, companies end up with all the money and power. This is what capitalism does — many car companies became a handful, many banks became a handful. AI will produce the same centralisation, but at unprecedented scale and across every domain simultaneously. The question — how does society benefit? — is the most important question of the era. Altman and Musk at least try to answer it. The others don’t.
 
•       Manifest Agency. Lean In. Keith’s advice to young people who distrust AI: get involved and shape it, because the alternative is to be a victim of whatever outcome arrives without you. AI is valid and inevitable. The question is what influence you have over it, and the answer is: more than you think, but only if you exercise it. Musk and Altman, for all their faults, are two people who do care — and who talk about UBI and universal high income because they understand that the winner-take-all endgame raises genuine questions about distribution. The Sophie Haigney argument — that all the worst people want to be high-agency — has it backwards. A world without agency is a world where elected officials are accountable to no one.
 
About the Guest
 
Keith Teare is a British-American entrepreneur, investor, and the publisher of the That Was the Week newsletter — a daily curation of the most important stories at the intersection of technology, business, and culture. He is a co-founder of TechCrunch and a long-time interlocutor on Keen On America.
 
References:
 
•       That Was the Week newsletter by Keith Teare — this week’s editorial: “The Cult of Personality.”
 
•       “How to Control the Men Who Control AI,” The Economist, April 2026. The video that triggered Keith’s editorial.
 
•       “I Don’t Think Sam Altman Lies,” by Stewart Alsop — the piece that started the conversation.
 
•       John Thornhill, “AI Has an Awful Image Problem,” Financial Times, April 2026.
 
•       Noah Smith, “What If a Few AI Companies End Up with All the Money and Power?” — the winner-take-all argument.
 
•       Episode 2873: Agency, Agency, Agency — Sophie Haigney on the A-word that Keith takes issue with this week.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 2,900 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
Substack
YouTube
Apple Podcasts
Spotify
 
Chapters: