Time for the Wicked
Life isn't chess, no matter how hard they want you to think so.
Today, some of the top CEOs from tech companies are meeting with one of the most significant presidents on earth following a public demonstration of power by China. It’s an important day. To me, it matters because of what it communicates indirectly, and precisely because of the textures and context it conceals.
The american dream is a nightmare. Few believe in the myth that hard work will enable them to retire and enjoy their final years. Instead, we see conversations between world-class leaders where immortality, or at least a much more prolonged life, escapes the realm of sci-fi. On the other end of the ideological world, we see that instead of inviting a plurality of scholars and thinkers to reimagine a dying system, the congregation is purely focused on environments where context is liminal, not to say, absent.
All of it while ignoring that for some, the nightmare of living today is very real.
Yes. Today is an important day in an important month of a world that is getting more blurry and unpredictable.
Why is it so hard to make sense of today? While the answer is obviously personal and infinite, I assume that generally, if you train a machine to do a particular repetitive pattern billions of times, and you succeed and gain capital and power, you start to see the world as a statistical chessboard. Instead of embracing complexity and unknown unknowns, and possibilities beyond pattern recognition, we double down on capital as a god.
But capital is a mean mean, not an end. Ask a millionaire or billionaire if they’re significantly happier now that money isn’t a dimension of their life.
Probably not.
Problems shift. And though I’m not sure what it feels like to be a millionaire, I’m sure the distance between 100 million and 100 billion is qualitatively minimal. Both individuals will be able to get the best sushi on the planet, spend months in orgies if they wish, or hunt lions. Sure, the billionaire can buy a town, or go to Mars, but they’ll probably eat in the same specialized hyper premium kitchen in Japan.
My hypothesis, and my insight after months of despair and profound depression, and adaptation to be a functional member of the system, is that there’s a foundational virus that tech accelerates and hides.
The virus: Assuming that the world is predictable and that time and experience matter a lot more than they actually do.
Wicked Learning.
The more AI technologies I see, the more uncomfortable I feel.
At first, I thought it was just a “boomer”-like mindset that prevented me from seeing all of the benefits of the world unfolding. Kind of like Plato refusing to let people take notes because it was in the process of conversation that philosophy emerged, but today. Or like the typical grandpa saying all previous times were better.
Lots of reflection and reading have shown me that’s not it. I have come to realize this isn’t just a feeling, it’s an insight marinating, a gut-feeling without a structured medium that is starting to make sense.
The insight: We’re in a wicked learning world, operated by kind learning prophets. Or, in plain words, the world doesn’t make sense by default, and we need to unlearn our need for order to adapt and succeed.
Kind learning environments offer clear rules, abundant and accurate feedback, and stable patterns, making learning reliable, like in tennis or chess. In contrast, wicked learning environments are complex, unpredictable, and inconsistent, with delayed or misleading feedback and unclear rules, such as in a startup or real-world business setting.
The problem? We got really good at operating in life as if it were chess, even though it absolutely isn’t.
Why does this matter? Why should you care? Because for the first time in history, we have reached the point of kind saturation for learning environments.
Maybe it isn’t time to try to keep up with AI and do more of what a pattern machine economy dictates. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to embrace that you’re a unique soul, and your obsession with foresight and videogames might actually be a good place to explore.
Perhaps it isn’t the time for tactics or strategies, but rather the time for surprises and exploration.
We’re replaceable only insofar as we think of ourselves as work units.
There’s a better way. There has to be, you just have to find it without a manual.