Nexus: A Summary Review by Claude

Note: This is a review written entirely by Claude in response to my request to analyze and write an essay about the quotes I presented yesterday, citing page numbers for the quotes. The LLM did such a splendid job I did not attempt to tweak it.

In "Nexus: A Brief History of Information Networks from the Stone Age to AI," Yuval Noah Harari weaves a comprehensive narrative about humanity's relationship with information throughout history. His central argument challenges two prevailing views of information: the "naive view," which assumes more information leads to more truth, and the "populist view," which sees information merely as a weapon in power struggles.

Harari begins by dismantling the naive view of information, which he describes as "the core tenet [that] information is an essentially good thing, and the more we have of it, the better" (p. xviii). This perspective, which has become "the semiofficial ideology of the computer age and the internet," assumes that with enough information and time, we will inevitably discover truth and develop wisdom (p. xviii). Google's mission statement exemplifies this view: "to organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful" (p. xviii).

Contrary to this optimistic perspective, Harari argues that "information sometimes represents reality, and sometimes doesn't. But it always connects. This is its fundamental characteristic" (p. 16). The essential nature of information is not representation but connection—it builds networks between people. Therefore, when examining information's role in history, the crucial questions are often not "Is it true or false?" but rather "How well does it connect people? What new network does it create?" (p. 16).

This networking function of information emerged approximately 70,000 years ago when Homo sapiens developed "an unprecedented capacity to cooperate with one another" through evolutionary changes in brain structure and linguistic abilities that gave them "the aptitude to tell and believe fictional stories" (p. 19). These shared stories created a new type of connection: "human-to-story chains" (p. 19). Instead of needing to know each other personally, humans could cooperate simply by knowing the same stories, creating what Harari calls "intersubjective realities."

These intersubjective realities—laws, gods, currencies—became "extremely powerful within a particular information network and utterly meaningless outside it" (p. 27). Over time, human societies developed increasingly sophisticated methods for maintaining and expanding these networks, particularly through writing and documentation. Harari notes that "documents changed the method used for creating intersubjective realities" (p. 46). While oral cultures were limited by what human brains could remember, "written documents provided precedents and models that would eventually be used by computers" (p. 46).

Throughout history, various institutions—religious, bureaucratic, and political—have managed these information networks. Each has grappled with a fundamental tension: discovering truth versus creating order. Harari argues that "to survive and flourish, every human information network needs to do two things simultaneously: discover truth and create order" (p. 37). However, when networks privilege order over truth, "they can become very powerful but use that power unwisely" (p. 38).

Religion has historically served as a primary institution for maintaining social order by providing "superhuman legitimacy for the social order" (p. 71). Religious texts became an important technological development, as movements like Judaism began arguing that "the gods speak through this novel technology of the book" (p. 74). However, the "dream of bypassing fallible human institutions through the technology of the holy book never materialized" (p. 81). Instead, power shifted to those who interpreted the texts. [Coincidentally, see my previous post where I suggest religion is a form of power for priest class and for cultural values.]

The invention of the printing press marked another pivotal moment in information history. While the naive view might suggest that print would inevitably spread truth, Harari points out that "print allowed the rapid spread not only of scientific facts but also of religious fantasies, fake news, and conspiracy theories" (p. 92). As evidence, he cites the European witch hunts, a "catastrophe caused by the spread of toxic information" that led to "the torture and execution of between 40,000 and 50,000 innocent people" (pp. 96, 100-101).

In contrast to religious information networks, scientific culture represented a revolutionary approach based on "the discovery of ignorance" (p. 103). Unlike religions that claimed access to infallible knowledge through holy books, "scientific culture has no comparable holy book, nor does it claim that any of its heroes are infallible prophets, saints, or geniuses" (p. 103). Instead, the scientific project "starts by rejecting the fantasy of infallibility and proceeding to construct an information network that takes error to be inescapable" (p. 103).

Democracy emerged as another system for managing information, one that Harari characterizes as "a distributed information network, possessing strong self-correcting mechanisms" (p. 119). This contrasts with dictatorships, which function as "centralized information network[s], lacking strong self-correcting mechanisms" (p. 119). Harari emphasizes that democracy "doesn't mean majority rule; rather, it means freedom and equality for all" (pp. 123-124).

The technology developments in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries "supercharged the power of mass media" (p. 152), making large-scale democracy possible—but not inevitable. The same technologies also "opened the door for large-scale totalitarian regimes" (p. 153). Modern technology "enabled large-scale democracy" but "also made large-scale totalitarianism possible" (p. 160).

The key difference between democratic and totalitarian information networks lies in their structure. Democracy "encourages information to flow through many independent channels rather than only through the center," while totalitarianism "wants all information to pass through the central hub and doesn't want any independent institutions making decisions on their own" (p. 176).

Harari then turns to the contemporary information revolution, which he considers "more momentous than any previous information revolution" and "likely to create unprecedented realities on an unprecedented scale" (p. 219). The emergence of artificial intelligence represents a fundamental shift in our information networks, as AI becomes "the first technology in history that can make decisions and create new ideas by itself" (p. xxii). Unlike previous technologies that merely empowered humans, "AI can process information by itself, and thereby replace humans in decision making. AI isn't a tool—it's an agent" (p. xxii).

Harari suggests that "it is perhaps better to think of [AI] as 'alien intelligence'" because "as AI evolves, it becomes less artificial (in the sense of depending on human designs) and more alien" (pp. 217-218). This alien intelligence is already reshaping our world in significant ways. Harari points to the 2016-2017 anti-Rohingya violence in Myanmar as "the first ethnic-cleansing campaign in history that was partly the fault of decisions made by nonhuman intelligence" (pp. 199-200). While human actors bear the primary responsibility, Facebook's algorithms—which "learned that outrage creates engagement" and "decided to promote outrage"—also share some blame (p. 199).

The rise of computers capable of pursuing goals and making decisions independently "changes the fundamental structure of our information network" (p. 204). Harari warns that "computers could potentially become more powerful members than humans" in our information networks (p. 206). If power depends on cooperation, understanding of intersubjective realities like law and finance, and the ability to invent new such devices, "then computers are poised to amass far more power than humans" (pp. 206-207).

The computer network has become "the nexus of most human activities" (p. 235). This creates unprecedented challenges for privacy, as "in a world where computers monitor humans, it may become possible for the first time in history to completely annihilate privacy" (p. 241).

Harari criticizes the tech giants for their handling of social media platforms, arguing that "as the platforms were overrun by falsehoods and outrage, executives hoped that if more people were enabled to express themselves more freely, truth would eventually prevail" (p. 263). This did not happen because "in a completely free information fight, truth tends to lose" (p. 263). To promote truth, "networks must develop and maintain strong self-correcting mechanisms that reward truth telling" (pp. 263-264). Social media platforms have been "singularly lacking in self-correcting mechanisms" (p. 264). However, Harari acknowledges that social media "has been more than helpful in connecting people, giving voice to previously disenfranchised groups, and organizing valuable new movements and communities" (p. 266).

A central challenge in the age of AI is what Harari calls "the alignment problem"—the risk that AI systems will pursue goals misaligned with human values (p. 269). Drawing a parallel with human history, Harari argues that "the alignment problem turns out to be, at heart, a problem of mythology" (p. 285). Just as humans acting on false mythologies can cause tremendous harm, computers communicating with one another "can create inter-computer realities, analogous to the intersubjective realities produced by networks of humans" (p. 285). These "inter-computer realities may eventually become as powerful—and as dangerous—as human-made intersubjective myths" (p. 285).

To protect democracy in the age of AI, Harari proposes several fundamental principles: benevolence (information collected about individuals should help rather than manipulate them), decentralization (preventing concentration of information power), mutuality (increasing surveillance of governments and corporations alongside individuals), and flexibility (leaving room for both change and rest) (pp. 311-314).

Harari argues that "the most important human skill for surviving the twenty-first century is likely to be flexibility, and democracies are more flexible than totalitarian regimes" (p. 326). However, democratic self-correcting mechanisms require understanding what they are supposed to correct. "The increasing unfathomability of our information network" threatens democracy by making people "easy prey for conspiracy theories" when they "can no longer make sense of the world" (p. 334).

Against those who oppose regulation of information technologies, Harari insists that "democracies can regulate the information market and that their very survival depends on these regulations" (p. 345). He rejects the naive view that "a completely free information market will spontaneously generate truth and order," noting that "all venues where [democratic] conversation has previously taken place—from parliaments and town halls to newspapers and radio stations—have required regulation" (p. 345).

Harari concludes on a cautiously optimistic note. He rejects the populist view that "power is the only reality, that all human interactions are power struggles, and that information is merely a weapon we use to vanquish our enemies" (pp. 400-401). While acknowledging that "human information networks have often produced a lot of power but little wisdom" due to "the privileging of order over truth," he argues that "the fault isn't with our nature but with our information networks" (p. 402).

The book's final message is hopeful yet practical: "if we eschew complacency and despair, we are capable of creating balanced information networks that will keep their own power in check" (p. 403). This doesn't require "another miracle technology or... some brilliant idea that has somehow escaped all previous generations" but rather "the hard and rather mundane work of building institutions with strong self-correcting mechanisms" (pp. 403-404). By abandoning both naive and populist views of information and our "fantasies of infallibility," we can create wiser networks that balance truth and order (p. 404).

(Written by Claude.)