I recently came across an August 2024 article titled "Data is a Bad Idea", which sparked further reflections. I encourage reading it for context, but my thoughts have shifted toward constructing "what if not" scenarios and analyzing probabilities—examining what unfolds when we question or bypass the conventional reliance on data. Through this exploration, I’ve uncovered a compelling trend shaping the world’s development. But before diving into that, let’s take a moment to expand on the key ideas presented in the article.
Here is a gimmick though, the trend
This graph represents the projected probabilities of three future scenarios—centralization, revolt, and balance restoration—over time, showing a gradual decrease in centralization and corresponding increases in revolt and balance restoration.
Here’s a link that outlines the calculations and assumptions I used, along with the corresponding Python code—feel free to review it at your convenience.
Data and the Objectification of Humanity
In Rome, the census once measured the strength of the Empire, categorizing the populace by wealth, status, and military potential. Yet, even Caesar’s census had its limits—each citizen could still wield his humanity, identity held firm within the family, within the tribe. Today, data seeks to crush that individuality, reducing a man to a data point. Cicero would have seen this as the slow death of the Republic. A man should not be a series of numbers that represent him but a whole being with flesh, spirit, and mind. From Greece’s Plato to Asia’s Laozi, they’ve all warned us: beware of systems that simplify the soul. This is Kay’s fear and ours. Algorithms that predict crime or grant credit erase a man’s history, personality, and potential. As the American poet Robert Frost wrote, “Nothing gold can stay.” This gold, the essence of being, cannot stay in a world that wants to quantify every breath, every step.
Data: A Centrifugal Force
The philosophers and kings who built cities, Athens and Babylon alike, knew that power radiates inward. The centrifugal force of data today centralizes control, leaving the common man stranded, powerless. The illusion of consent—clicking a box on a website—mocks the concept of autonomy, a reminder of Hobbes’ Leviathan, where we trade our freedom for protection. Yet, this exchange feels hollow. When a website asks for our data, it is as if Caesar stands at the gates once more, demanding tribute. But this time, we give willingly, unaware of the empire that grows around us.
Rebellion Against the Machine: Historical Parallels
The Dutch resistance, in bombing the Amsterdam Population Registry, acted with the full knowledge of what data meant in the hands of power. Their goal was simple—destroy the records, save the people. This rebellion echoes through history: from the peasants of France rising against tax rolls, to American revolutionaries burning British customs offices. Men rise when the system that records them becomes the system that enslaves them. And in today’s digital age, this slavery isn’t done with chains, but with algorithms that dictate who we are, how we live, and what we can become.
A Philosophical Call to Action
Socrates warned against the written word, claiming it would weaken the mind’s power to remember, to think. Data, in its digital form, threatens more than our memories—it threatens our identities. What Alan Kay, much like Seneca or the Buddha, suggests is a recalibration. We must not allow ourselves to be drawn into this vortex, this “bad idea” where data becomes the final word. We must find ways to bring the ownership of data closer to the individual, breathing life into Agre’s “living data,” fostering the kind of systems where trust, accuracy, and identity remain intact.
Challenges and the Road Ahead
Yet, Kay’s solution, like all good philosophy, comes with its own obstacles. Systems like Solid and Verifiable Credentials offer us a glimpse of autonomy, but they are not without flaws. Challenges arise in scaling these systems—after all, control does not scale. The centralized powers, much like Rome’s Senate or the Ottoman Sultans, always grow stronger because of the complexity required to manage vast empires of information. We must be cautious that the solution does not become the new overlord. As JFK once said, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.” It is the same here: if we do not find peaceful ways to balance control over data, we risk revolution in the form of digital tyranny.
A Call to Ethics
We must return to a more human-centric way of handling data. This is no different from the efforts of early American communities to craft constitutions, balancing power and ensuring that no one entity could claim absolute authority. We need new ethical frameworks, much like the Founding Fathers devised, that create checks and balances in the digital age. Initiatives grounded in ethical principles must come not from corporations but from communities. Let us not forget Thomas Jefferson’s words: “Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.”
Returning to the Human
Alan Kay’s words are a whisper, a challenge to those of us living in this data-driven age. Data is not the problem—it is how we wield it. The challenge before us is simple, but no less difficult than those faced by philosophers and statesmen across centuries: balance power with freedom, knowledge with wisdom. The road ahead requires collaboration, not domination. It requires ethics, not algorithms. Only then can we reshape data into a force that serves humanity, not a tool that binds us. As Ernest Hemingway might have said, "The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places." Let us be strong in the places where data seeks to break us.
The morning light creeps over a quiet landscape, but there’s no peace in the air—only tension, like the world holding its breath. Data is no longer the tool it once was; it has become the ruler. Once, it was a simple instrument in the hands of farmers and soldiers, but now it pulls us in, demanding everything, leaving us only shells of who we once were.
Alan Kay’s words hit like a rifle shot in this silent dawn. Data is not just numbers and measurements; it’s the force that binds and tightens, like a noose, dragging men toward a hollow center of control. It’s as if we’ve forgotten the warnings of those before us—Thucydides, Confucius, even Socrates. They knew knowledge could grow cold, dangerous when stripped from the heart and wielded without wisdom. Now, the world spins in the grip of data, spiraling inward like a whirlpool, and men are swept up in its relentless pull.
In ancient Rome, they counted men by their worth—wealth, status, potential—but each still had his humanity. Even Caesar’s census couldn’t rob a man of his soul. Today, that’s no longer true. We’re nothing more than points on a chart, stripped of flesh, spirit, and mind. The old philosophers warned us: simplify the soul, and you destroy it. Plato and Laozi saw the danger of reducing life to figures, and yet here we are. Algorithms predict our worth, erase our past, and steal our future. As Robert Frost once said, "Nothing gold can stay." Our humanity, the most precious gold of all, is slipping away, lost in the cold gaze of data.
The world we built once radiated from human hands—Athens, Babylon—power moving outward, shared, spread. Now, it’s the reverse. Data gathers in dark centers of control, like a black hole drawing in light. We click the consent boxes, hand over our freedom, all for the illusion of security. It’s a mockery, a game of submission. Caesar demands tribute once again, only this time, we give it willingly.
But history remembers those who fought back. In Amsterdam, rebels bombed the population registry, knowing full well what power lies in the control of names, numbers, lives. From French peasants burning tax rolls to American patriots torching British customs offices, men rise when the systems that count them become the systems that enslave them. Today’s chains are algorithms, not iron, but they bind us just the same.
Socrates feared the written word, not because it captured truth, but because it made us lazy, made us forget. What, then, does this digital age do to us? We no longer even question what we’re fed. Alan Kay sees the threat, like the Stoics and Buddha before him. It’s not just data; it’s what it does to our souls. It’s time to reclaim control, not by resisting the tide, but by owning it. Bring data back to the people, keep it alive, breathing, part of us—not the master, but the servant.
The road ahead is full of dangers, but also choices. We’ve built systems—Solid, Verifiable Credentials—that show us glimpses of autonomy. But we can’t be naïve. Power always finds a way to grow back, like a weed. It doesn’t scale without crushing those beneath it. JFK once said, "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable." If we don’t find peaceful ways to balance the scales, the tyranny of data will lead us to a digital dictatorship.
We must learn from those before us—the founders of republics, framers of constitutions. They built checks and balances, made sure no one held too much power. We need new systems, grounded in ethics, not algorithms, ones that come from the people, not corporations. As Jefferson said, “Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.”
So here we stand, at the brink, facing choices that are simple but no less profound than those faced by Socrates or Washington. Balance knowledge with wisdom, power with freedom. If we don’t, data will break us. And when it does, as Hemingway once said, "The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places." Let’s be those strong ones, standing at the places where the world tries to break us, refusing to bend.
I’ve run the numbers, and the picture isn’t pretty. It all leads to one conclusion: our civilization will fall. Maybe not today, but soon. We have a slim chance—2%, to be exact—of surviving the next hundred years without serious collapse. Climate change alone will take us out within 30 years if we don’t act. Add in the tyranny of centralized control and the exponential rise of automation, and the odds grow even worse.
We need to wake up. Time is short. We’re facing displacement, disease, and the slow erosion of everything that makes us human. The powers at play aren’t just economic or environmental—they’re existential. If we don’t fight back, if we don’t find a way to balance data and human control, we will perish, and we’ll do it willingly, one click at a time.
But I believe in the power of a few to change the course of history. Passionaries, like the tiny spark that ignites a flame. It’s always been this way. The great shifts in history have come from the few who were willing to give everything, to put their lives on the line for what they knew to be right. And I’m calling for them now.
Will we find enough of these people, enough to turn the tide, to build a world where humanity isn’t just a data point? I don’t know. But I’ll be one of them, standing at the edge, facing the abyss, ready to fight for what’s right.
What's next?
The world is changing. Centralized power is crumbling, and data is pushing the collapse. Putin, Trump, Khamenei, Xi—they represent a dying age. Data doesn’t just record their fall; it accelerates it. It’s no longer the people in power; it’s the algorithms. Blockchain, DeFi, and peer-to-peer networks are shifting power away from the few. The masses now control what used to be centralized. History shows us that central control can’t hold forever. Clinging to old power is dangerous. Data is decentralizing the world.
In ancient Rome, the census measured the Empire’s power, counting wealth and status. But even Caesar’s census couldn’t erase a man’s soul. Today, the main risk is that data tries to strip away our humanity, reducing us to numbers. Plato and Laozi warned us: reduce the soul, and you kill it. Algorithms erase our past, our worth, our future. We’re no longer flesh and spirit. We’re data points.
Control used to radiate outward, from kings and emperors. Now, it pulls inward. Data centralizes power in unseen hands, but people give it willingly. Clicks, consent boxes—they mock our freedom. The illusion of control is just that—an illusion. The Dutch resistance bombed population registries to protect the people. Now, rebellion is digital. Chains are not iron; they are algorithms.
Socrates feared the written word, saying it would weaken minds. Now, digital data weakens more than our memory. It strips our identity. Solutions like Solid show hope, giving ownership of data back to individuals. But we must ensure these systems don’t evolve into new overlords. As JFK warned, “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.”
Generally speaking in theory we need ethics, not algorithms. Just as the Founding Fathers built checks and balances, we need new frameworks to handle data. Trust, autonomy, and humanity must guide the future. Jefferson said, “Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.” The same vigilance is needed now.
Now, here's the bitter truth. Who are the "we"? We are the ones bombing prenatal centers in Odessa and Mariupol. We are the ones who call home proudly, saying, "I killed Jews today." We are the ones who, like a single creature, plot in shadows to conquer the world, trying to build a tyranny so old it crumbled on our own soil thousands of years ago, though we lack the courage to admit it. We are the ones who take bribes from a ruthless enemy, just to win elections, leaning on the fading support of the dull and the corrupt—those too blind or too crooked to care.
Now, remember that AI uses probabilistic algorithms to predict the most likely version of reality based on patterns in data? It doesn’t "know" reality; it calculates it. When AI processes input, it assigns probabilities to different outcomes by analyzing patterns in past data—whether it’s text, images, or behavior. These probabilities guide the AI to choose the most likely scenario or decision. The more data it processes, the better it gets at narrowing down which outcome is statistically most probable.
Essentially, AI doesn't just reflect reality; it picks the most likely one based on numbers and patterns, reinforcing that choice with every interaction, locking in a version of reality that’s constantly updated based on probability models. Therefore, the more garbage, hatred, and idiocy we feed it or allow others to feed it, the more this distorted version of reality gets embedded as the "right" one. AI will learn from that input and normalize it, making the worst of human behavior seem like the most probable and accepted version of reality. The algorithm doesn't judge; it just follows the data, and if the data is ugly, so is the world it creates.
It’s clear: once AI runs everything—from coordinating planes and cars to making court rulings and controlling how we communicate—everything depends on the data it’s fed. The problem is, that data now shows the worst of us. The trick is obvious: AI doesn’t care if the data is good or bad, it just processes it. Feed it hatred, lies, and stupidity, and that’s what shapes how the world operates. The more garbage we feed it, the more it reflects and reinforces that ugliness, driving the world based on the darkest parts of human behavior.
Do I see the trick? Yes, I see the trick. AI is becoming the filter that shapes reality, and it mirrors whatever data we put into it. If the data shows our worst traits—violence, hate, misinformation—then those become the foundation for every decision it makes, from trivial things like traffic management to critical decisions in courtrooms. AI doesn’t see right or wrong; it just follows patterns. When everything, from logistics to how we talk, goes through AI, it gets twisted by the flawed, negative data it’s trained on. It’s a vicious cycle: the more bad data we provide, the more AI amplifies it, embedding these negative traits into the systems that will control every part of our lives. That’s the trick—by corrupting the data, we corrupt the reality AI builds for us, and soon, it won’t just reflect who we are, it’ll control how we live. We’re just a short step away from everything—planes, cars, courts, conversations—being run by AI, and if the data keeps reflecting the worst of us, that’s the reality we’ll live in. Do you see it?
We may indeed be destined to follow this path of cleansing and clashing the interests of the past—vertical integration, secret gatherings, and parallel integration. The road ahead is dangerous. The data that represents the true us today will shape tomorrow’s freedom or tyranny. We must stand strong in both deeds and words, as they now shape the data—us or the version we allow ourselves to appear as—breaking us. Hypocrisy now turns into a mortal sin, literally.
The future will belong to those who control the flow, not just those who move through it. To survive, we must decentralize control as quickly as possible and speak the truth, openly and clearly. By doing so, we won't just influence the flow individually, but as a unified group. And remember, the level of our consciousness will be dragged down by the lowest among us. God help us.