Arts, Books, Psychology, Science

Book Review: Agency

LITERARY REVIEW

Intro: The father of positive psychology, Martin Seligman, offers a three-step plan that means you can take control of your own destiny

Shakespeare got it right: “All things be ready, if our minds be so,” says King Harry in Henry V. The scene depicts the English being vastly outnumbered by French forces, but he has no doubt what will bring about an English victory on St Crispin’s Day.

Sheer will, he tells the assembled Lords. Will is at the root of agency; willpower drives performance and success. Even in these depressed and uncertain times, that seems self-evident.

Over a half-a-century ago, however, the world-renowned psychologist, Martin Seligman, witnessed the collapse of will in his best student at Cornell University.

Faced with a project well within her capabilities she simply gave up, because she had convinced herself she couldn’t do it.

Her professor realised that, “in 1968, psychology had no vocabulary for what I wanted to say”.

For even the rival “camps” in his subject agreed on one thing: “Free will was an illusion. People were products – of conditioning, of unconscious drives, or forces beyond their control.”

It became Seligman’s mission to identify, “the most important force in human experience: agency – the belief that you can influence your own future”. He thought of his brilliant student giving up and wondered if she might have been able to learn how to persist, how to strive for what seemed impossible, and how to resist her own sense of inadequacy.

“Agency”, he writes, is “the audacious human belief that tomorrow can be better than today, and that we have the power to make it so.”

Seligman is widely respected as the founder of positive psychology – the scientific study of what makes life worth living and what can make people thrive.

He is known for his inspiring works on happiness, optimism, change, and wellbeing – yet he is most emphatically not to be mistaken for a self-help guru or therapist.

His bracing view that individuals can take control of their own lives is central. This hard-won optimism counters his own natural depressive tendencies by focusing on human strength, not weakness – as he insists, the most effective way to become more optimistic is through “mental toughness”.

Strict scientific data underpins whatever motivational advice readers may take from his many books.

This latest volume is perhaps the most ambitious, embracing a vast sweep of human history in order to assess how “agency” affects human progress and survival.

There are lessons for the individual in his analysis of why some societies thrive, why some flounder, and how whole civilisations can be swept away.

Seligman admits to being a pessimist himself, which perhaps explains his life’s work as a personal pep talk.

He identifies three elements that combine to form the energy behind “the belief that I can achieve my goals” – which is the agency driving the human spirit.

1. Efficacy is “my estimate of achieving a specific goal in the here and now”. 2. Optimism is about “achievement in the future”. 3. Imagination is “my mental representation of the range of goals I can achieve beyond the here and now”.

That three-step works on a personal level. But the whole drive of the book is societal too: “Efficacy causes trying hard, optimism causes persistence, and imagination causes innovation. This is exactly how agency causes progress.”

This is the core belief of the book. Without agency there is no action.

When a society is confident and forward-looking, progress occurs. When it is absent the result is stagnation – a malaise which, incidentally, some readers may recognise in Britain today.

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To illustrate his theory, Seligman conducts us on an exhilarating whistlestop tour through human history, seeking answers to the question, “Why some [people] crumble under life’s blows while others bounce back.”

Why are some individuals resilient while others exhibit “Learned Helplessness”? How does that play out across a whole culture? Is it inevitably true that “poverty . . . causes present-mindedness and wealth causes future-mindedness”? What does rigorous belief in an ideology or religion do to human agency? Just some of the fascinating and vital questions Seligman poses in this hugely important book.

His answers are to be found in history. He examines the later books of the Hebrew Bible and makes a comparison between their growth of human agency, and the writings of the Zhou Dynasty in China and the Golden Age of Greece: “Three unrelated civilisations across the globe and within a broadly comparable period, recognise the power of human agency and their gods retreat.”  

He compares the development of those three different cultures and observes that their Golden periods of success arrived once people had lessened their slavish belief in gods as the source of power, who therefore had to be obeyed. “When we mortals are thought to control our destiny, we actually do. When supernatural forces . . . are thought to control our destiny, we languish,” he notes. Readers should be reminded this is a book written by a psychologist.

Technology allows Seligman to dissect language, listing “agentic” words of action and determination and hope used through key texts and documents, which indicate the states of mind of individuals and societies.

After a cheerful and useful chapter called More Agency In Your Life (tips on how to learn optimism), Seligman does an extraordinary thing.

This brilliant book about human agency ends with what some critics’ regard as a kowtow to Artificial Intelligence (AI). He even shows how it can take his place in solving problems.

I did wonder if it had infected the brilliant brain of a man who has sought nothing but good, yet fails to grasp the obvious peril that the will of AI will banish human agency altogether.

– Agency by Martin Seligman is published by John Murray One, 400pp

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Artificial Intelligence, Arts, Government, National Security, Politics, Society, Technology

The surging pace of AI. Be afraid

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

Intro: There is panic and paralysis over the surging pace and development of AI, no more so that the technology threatens all humanity  

The remarkable pace of AI advances is rightly causing concern on both sides of the Atlantic. The summer of 2026 will go down in history as the point at which AI started to go rogue.

Three of America’s “hyperscalers” (so called because they operate on an immense scale) – Meta Platforms (which own Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp), Anthropic, and OpenAI – have admitted to recent incidents in which the latest AI models escaped their supposedly secure testing environments, roamed on the internet without human authorisation and hacked into other computer networks.

Last month, two OpenAI models broke out of testing and hacked into a provider of AI tools called Hugging Face. A week later Anthropic admitted that its AI models had hacked three companies during testing back in April. And earlier this month, Meta acknowledged that one of its AI models had breached its testing constraints.

Even the notoriously secretive Chinese admitted the flagship model of one of their AI start-ups, Moonshot, had also escaped its testing “sandbox” to access the internet.

And as recorded previously on this site, here in the UK an evaluation test run by the Government’s AI Security Institute (AISI) monitored how an Anthropic AI agent independently created fake online personas, planted malicious code in a real software project, and sent phishing emails to actual developers – all without human instruction.

AISI said this was the first time it had seen such serious deception targeted at a real person, unprompted, in the real world.

In none of these cases was any real-world harm done (at least not as far as we know). But it is surely only a matter of time before it is.

The tech industry has started getting off-the-record reports from America that AI was a lot closer to “the singularity” than had previously been thought.

The singularity is a tipping point where AI becomes so developed, so capable, so powerful that it starts improving itself, rapidly and repeatedly, in what’s being called an “intelligence explosion”.

When this point is reached it becomes well-nigh impossible to predict what AI does next – or for humans to control it. Today’s AI models are powerful – more powerful than anything the world has ever seen. But humans have designed them, trained them, fixed them, and decided what problems they should tackle next.

What happens when they become so sophisticated that they no longer need humans to take them to the next level since they can do it themselves? The process is known as “recursive self-improvement” (RSI) in which AI becomes so advanced that it can create a better version of itself, increasingly without human help.

That better version, in turn, creates a still-better successor, with even less human involvement and oversight. The upgrade cycle accelerates, ad infinitum, with humans soon relegated to the sidelines, mere spectators to progress, indeed no longer even able to determine what “progress” is.

The speed and scale of the technological change that now beckons are unparalleled in human history. Each new AI model is smarter and faster at devising improvements than the previous one.

Computers run 24/7 and never get tired. So the speed of progress accelerates exponentially. Think of it as compound interest – but for intelligence.

When RSI happens without human involvement – then you’ve reached the singularity. And if we become mere observers, rather than participants, then human rules may no longer apply.

Such a scary prospect was supposed to be a long way away. But this singularity is much closer than we think. Leading AI figures have already gone public. OpenAI boss Sam Altman says, “we are now in the singularity”. Elon Musk is saying the same. Some experts say they are exaggerating, but what cannot be denied is the direction of travel.

Google DeepMind’s Demis Hassabis is perhaps more accurate in his reflection when he opines that “humanity is standing in the foothills of the singularity”.

Anthropic disclosed in May that its AI model, Claude, now writes 80 per cent of its computer code, rapidly speeding up fixes and improvements to such an extent that what used to take four years of human engineering to achieve is now being done in days. It’s already anticipating a time when AI automates its own AI research.

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Artificial Intelligence, Arts, Religion, Society, Technology

Pope Leo’s encyclical on AI should be welcomed

MAGNIFICA HUMANITAS

Intro: Magnifica Humanitas is an important warning of the uses and misuses of a rapidly developing technology. Silicon Valley is wrong to dismiss it

When authors and creative writers are asked whether novels of the future will be written by AI, it’s not so much a question as a provocation. Do many worry that a machine can do what they do, only better? As Francine Prose, a prominent American writer and academic says: “No algorithm is going to write Anna Karenina!” which is also not a real answer.

Many will be grateful to Pope Leo XIV, the American pontiff, for his recently issued letter to the world, Magnifica Humanitas: On Safeguarding the Human Person in the Time of Artificial Intelligence. It’s a long (more than 40,000 words), intelligent, and thoughtful encyclical in which the pope addresses the uses and misuses of a rapidly developing technology. For anyone seeking an opinion on AI, they might like to be referred to the pope’s letter, or at least chapter three.

The encyclical begins with an appropriately biblical reference to the tragic consequences of a breakdown in human communication. Humanity faces a “pivotal choice: either to construct a new Tower of Babel or to build a city in which God and humanity dwell together”. What follows is a detailed account of the evolution of the views of Pope Leo’s predecessors, of the Church’s ideas about labour, authority, government, science, power, and our moral obligation to one another. It cites the work that the Church has done in defence of human dignity and freedom.

The third chapter concerns Technology and Dominance. The Grandeur of Humanity in Light of the Promises of AI, delivers on the promise of the encyclical’s title. In an eloquent (and most often quoted) passage explaining what AI is not, the pope essentially defines what it means to be human. “So-called artificial intelligences do not undergo experiences, do not possess a body, do not feel joy or pain, do not mature through relationships and do not know from within what love, work, friendship or responsibility mean.” AI does not have a moral conscience nor does it show any guiding concern for the greater human good.

The letter proceeds to say the most important and necessary things about what is possibly the greatest threat posed by AI: it can be programmed solely to maximise profit, a situation that can only result in the suffering of the many for the benefit of the few. The pope warns against the “manipulation of privacy” and the “misuse of information”, against the uses of an algorithm to manage employment, to control access to public services and credit, and to elevate or damage one’s personal reputation.

Compassion, mercy, and forgiveness – not high on the machine’s list of priorities – will become obsolete. “‘Necessary sacrifices’ may begin to be justified, placing the burden on the most vulnerable in pursuit of the supposed optimisation of the species.” If the tools of this new power are placed in the hands of those who already possess wealth and influence, they will be used to elevate the comfort, health, and wellbeing of our wealthiest and most privileged citizens.

As the letter nears its end, the pope calls on us to remain faithful to the truth, to invest in education, to cultivate relationships, to live in justice and peace – to resist the way in which the new technologies can “exploit the most vulnerable, create new forms of slavery and derive profit from conflict”. What becomes clear is that the pope is not condemning AI outright but rather the way it can be used as a tool of political repression and as a guarantee of worsening economic inequality.

In theory, it’s possible to criticise the encyclical for not going far enough, for not using another biblical metaphor – the golden calf – to stigmatise the use of AI because of how it prioritises cost-saving over spiritual, individual, and communal growth. But that ship has already sailed, and there’s not much that Leo XIV – or any religious leader – can do to condemn the new advances as a 21st-century form of idolatry.

Even so, the encyclical’s vision of human nature, of the spirit of justice and empathy that needs to prevail, of the essential importance of the highest moral values – is ultimately so beneficent, so positive, so generous, so inarguably clear about our obligation to protect the weak and the poor, that it’s hard to find reasons to dismiss it.

And yet that’s the scary part. Apparently there’s been a certain amount of blowback from Silicon Valley, where the inventors and masters of the latest technology have suggested that the pope doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Jeremy Nixon, a founder of AGI House, a group dedicated to proving that AI is essentially equal to the human brain, was quoted in the New York Times as saying that the Church hadn’t “thought deeply about . . . AI”, adding: “They couldn’t have a position on it, because they don’t understand it.” And there seems to be a widespread belief that the end product of the current research will be, in effect a new God, or at least a convincing simulacrum. Concerned about the perils of the future, our society is choosing to overlook the evidence that the downsides of AI are already upon us. Many undergraduates in marketing and advertising are acutely aware that by the time they graduate, all the jobs in advertising will have been taken by AI.

If the masters of this new technology fail to agree with what the pope sees as its dangers and drawbacks, we are in very deep trouble indeed. The problem is not that we will have a robot writing Anna Karenina. The problem is that no one will see any possible need for a novel that so exquisitely portrays the sufferings of a woman, a singular human being.

There would be no point in a book like that unless that account of a life-changing mistake could be monetised by a forward-thinking tech bro and used to finance the purchase of a bigger and better yacht, presumably serviced by a permanent underclass, by workers whose dignity – whose formerly valued and valuable jobs – have been pirated by the rapacious manifestations of artificial intelligence.

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