Artificial Intelligence, Research, Science, Society, Technology

Superintelligent AI and its threat to humanity

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

Intro: Humanity faces an uncertain fate as experts brace for superintelligent AI. The tech industry claims looming “singularity” will change everything

Every time one of the world’s top artificial intelligence companies unveils a new system, employees at the US research organisation METR put it through its paces. Its ability is tested to complete a series of increasingly complex tasks.

The tasks are measured by how long each one would take a skilled human. They range from trivial arithmetic (two seconds) and completing a game of Wordle (13 minutes) to building complex military satellite software (taking a human expert 14.5 hours).

The test then serves as a gauge as to how capable AI has become – and where it might go.

The first version of ChatGPT, released in 2022, could only perform simple tasks that would take a human a few seconds.

But as AI systems have become more powerful, they are able to complete more complex actions that would take humans hours or days, such as breaking into a medical website and downloading all its data.

METR has found that AI capabilities are doubling in power every 196 days. Plotted on a graph, this progress starts slowly then rapidly accelerates to a near-vertical plane.

Converse with anyone in the AI industry for any length of time and the likelihood of them pulling up a version of the chart approaches 100pc, to the point where it has become a meme in its own right. It is being referred to as the most important chart in the world. The chart goes off the scale.

Last month, the AI lab Anthropic announced it had developed a new system, called Mythos, that it said was too powerful to release to the public because of its ability to find gaping holes in online security systems.

When METR’s researchers released the results of Mythos’s capability and function, they scored the system at 16 hours – meaning the world’s most powerful AI can now automate tasks that would take a human two full eight-hour shifts.

Nonetheless, they said the model was “at the upper end” of their ability to test. In other words, progress has become too fast for them to measure.

Not everybody is convinced by the results because the test only measures if a machine can do something half the time, not if it can do it consistently. The METR chart has, however, captured many people’s imaginations for two reasons.

First, the exponential growth looks strikingly similar to “Moore’s Law”, the maxim that has governed the electronics industry for more than half a century, stating that microchips roughly double in power every two years.

Second, it measures abilities, rather than intelligence. While many AI “benchmarks” resemble university exams and gradings, dealing in abstract reasoning or maths, the METR test studies whether AI can actually work.

It suggests that on current trends, vast amounts of human tasks could be automated in the next couple of years – including, most crucially of all, the art of developing AI models itself.

At that threshold, known in the tech industry as “recursive self-improvement”, all bets are off.

The concept is closely linked to superhuman AI because an AI that can make itself smarter could act like an evolutionary chain reaction, rapidly building to a system vastly more capable than mankind.

AI would have become – as IJ Good, the Bletchley Park codebreaker, predicted in 1965 – “the last invention that man need make”. Almost Orwellian in thought.

For 60 years, the idea seemed out of reach. But much of Silicon Valley believes this is about to change – and the US government is starting to notice.

The vast majority of people’s experience of AI has not changed much in the last couple of years. The release of ChatGPT in 2022 generated an initial flurry of excitement and fear in equal measure but, since then, progress has been less obvious.

The AI experience for many people comes in seeing an obviously fake video on their social media feeds, seeing an AI overview at the top of their search results, or having a bot that “helpfully” offers to summarise their emails.

But at the coalface, people are rapidly bringing forward their timelines for the day that superintelligence arrives.

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Business, Government, Politics

The West’s hypocrisy on corruption is amoral

DUPLICITOUS STANDARDS

Intro: Westerners have no right to feel morally superior over those in developing nations

The West likes to believe corruption is something that happens elsewhere. It is presented as a pathology of poorer countries, weak institutions, and unstable governments. In much of Africa, corruption is routinely cited by Western politicians, the media, and international organisations as evidence of failed governance. It is used to justify conditions on aid, scepticism towards investment and, increasingly, a broader sense of moral superiority.

Yet the uncomfortable truth is that many of the same behaviours exist in Britain, Europe, and the United States. The difference is not always the conduct itself. The difference is often the language we use to describe it. In Western democracies, power rarely operates through crude bribery or overt illegality.

Instead, it works through relationships, access, networks, and privileged information. Outcomes are shaped quietly, informally, and often entirely within the rules. Those closest to political and financial power gain opportunities, protection, and influence that others do not. We prefer to call this lobbying, networking, or simply “how things get done”. But if similar systems operated elsewhere, we would often call them corruption.

The global pandemic exposed this contradiction particularly clearly. Between February and November 2020, more than £3.7bn of UK PPE contracts were channelled through a “VIP lane” for companies with political connections. Those firms were significantly more likely to secure government contracts, even where they had limited relevant experience.

Had a similar process emerged in an African country – where politically connected individuals were fast-tracked for lucrative state contracts during a national emergency – Western governments and media outlets would almost certainly have described it as corruption. In Britain, however, the language was notably softer: “urgency”, “extraordinary circumstances”, “procurement challenges”. The same behaviour, but a different use of language and vocabulary. What increasingly troubles the public is not simply individual scandals, but the perception that elite networks operate by different rules altogether.

The Epstein affair reinforced that suspicion powerfully. It exposed the extraordinary proximity between convicted offenders and some of the most influential political, financial, and social figures in the Western world.

The main focus of accountability for the sexual abuse was rightly directed at Jeffrey Epstein himself and later Ghislaine Maxwell. But many others associated with Epstein – some of whom knowingly enabled, tolerated, or benefited from the network of influence and privilege surrounding him – have emerged largely untouched.

For many people, this reinforced the belief that wealth, influence, and proximity to power can create a form of informal immunity. Not necessarily from the law itself, but from the level of scrutiny and accountability that would apply to ordinary people – or indeed to public figures in other countries.

When access, relationships, and privileged information determine outcomes, public trust is inevitably eroded – regardless of whether formal rules have been technically breached.

If confidence in democratic institutions is to be rebuilt, it will require more than compliance processes and carefully managed optics. It demands a far more honest recognition of how power actually operates within Western systems.

Because the real danger is not simply that corruption exists elsewhere. It is that the West has become extraordinarily skilled at defining its own behaviour in ways that prevent it from recognising corruption when it is closest to home.

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Britain, Economic, Government, International trade, Politics, Society, Technology

Wresting opportunity from this geopolitical crisis

GEOPOLITICS

Intro: If Britain is nimble and responsive to this global crisis it can be a winner in an era beset by conflict. Confident governments that circumvent risk will benefit handsomely

Amid the geopolitical storms and instability emanating from Ukraine to the Strait of Hormuz, flickers of light are piercing the gloom. To paraphrase Charles Darwin, it is not the strongest that survive, but those most responsive to change. So too, with nation states. Mid-ranking powers are navigating independent paths to mitigate risks and grasping opportunities lacing the chaos. There are lessons here for Britain.

In Ukraine, necessity has proved the mother of invention. Since Russia’s invasion, Ukraine has revolutionised its industrial-defence base, changing the face of global warfare. In 2024, Ukraine conducted the first fully autonomous drone strikes on Russian targets. The scale of innovation is equally dramatic. Ukraine has reduced its reliance on foreign-supplied military hardware, from 54 per cent to 18 per cent, in three years. Now, Gulf states are queuing up to buy its drones to defend themselves against Iran.

Such rugged self-reliance and determination persuaded the United Arab Emirates (UAE) to leave OPEC, the 12-country cartel that fixes oil prices and supply. “Opexit” will enable the UAE to increase its oil production by around 40 per cent, and help to ease global shortages. In doing so, the UAE has derided regional rivals, deepened ties with the US and Israel, and signed a defence pact with Ukraine. These moves are highly controversial for a mid-sized power under lethal fire – responding with vision and self-confidence.

The trend is not limited to those facing military pressure. When China responded to Australian criticism over Covid in 2020 by imposing tariffs, the government in Canberra reduced its dependency on China. It expanded trade with South-East Asia, and signed Aukus, the defence co-operation pact with Britain and the US.

In the wake of US tariffs, Canada signed a dozen new free trade deals, and launched a sovereign wealth fund to boost critical mineral supply chains with allies. It has ramped up defence spending, and is partnering with innovators in defence tech. 

The emerging trend undermines lazy assumptions that mid-sized nations must choose between or bow to larger powers. Confident governments that manoeuvre nimbly can circumvent risk. By co-operating in clusters with like-minded partners, they can seize the opportunities accompanying geopolitical ructions.

There are clear lessons for Britain. Since 2019, UK trade has increased – measured by volume or as a proportion of GDP. The latest United Nations statistics show that, since its departure from the EU, Britain rose from seventh to fourth place in the global trade rankings, spurred on by trade deals with Australia, India, and the 11 countries of the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership. As a services-oriented economy, the UK should strike further deals from the Gulf to South America.

UK trade objectives, however, must play to our comparative advantages. London remains the second-largest financial centre in the world, contributing 20 per cent more to the UK economy than it did in 2016. We can build on this by securing greater market access abroad. Reform at home would help, too. With public finances strained, state support should focus on sectors where the UK offers global leadership from life sciences to AI, for example, to make it easier for large funds to invest in data centres and defence procurement.

As the conflict in Iran shows, the global economy is still acutely reliant on traditional maritime supply chains. Britain has a long history as a leading maritime nation, and UK firms – like GB Global – are looking to high-tech logistics and modular methods of shipbuilding to mitigate these risks. The Government can do more to support this strategic sector, in ways that would boost tax revenue.

If Britain aims to lead in innovation, we need a reliable supply of critical minerals. Similarly, Europe-wide efforts to rebuild defence capabilities will fail without a stable supply of heavy rare earths.

While the West lags behind China by around 20 years in the race to mine and refine these commodities, Europeans have been slower to respond than the US, Canada, Japan, and Australia. The UK has some natural resource and refining capacity, but is yet to translate strategic objectives into operational delivery. One option is to help finance projects abroad in return for the off-take needed to service industry.

Likewise, in defence tech there is a UK hub emerging in Swindon, but it needs a technical college to provide the skills, faster procurement decision-making, and a revamp of the electricity grid to attract businesses.

The splintering of the post-1945 international order has sent waves of uncertainty around the world. Yet mid-sized countries can navigate turbulent geopolitical waters, but only if they face the new realities and play to their strengths.

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