by Gerald Huff
“It is my honor. What is your name and your question?”
“My name is Jillian. I’m currently a literature major but I’m worried about finding a job when I graduate. Should I switch majors?”
“Well, that’s a very personal question, so I doubt I can give you exactly the right advice. But let me tell you what I think about education and the future of work, and I hope that will help you think through your decision.
“As you know because you see it every day all around you, more and more jobs performed by humans can now be accomplished at lower cost and with better results by software and robots. This trend is only going to accelerate over the next few decades. We will very soon reach the point where there are not enough traditional jobs to employ the majority of our population.
“That is why I believe we need both a universal basic income and a focus on reducing the cost of living through advanced technologies. Of course, that leaves the question of what, exactly, you and your fellow students are going to do. If you don’t have a traditional job at a company, which by the way is a concept that has only been around for the last couple of hundred years of human existence, how will you contribute to moving humanity forward? And how should you engage in your education to prepare you for life?
“First, I would say that if you have a talent and passion for the science or engineering fields, press forward. But I would echo that old sage Tim O’Reilly’s advice—work on stuff that matters.
“Now, it’s often impossible to tell what is going to matter, and we need great diversity in our research. There are countless examples of obscure research or technology that turned out to be essential to a major breakthrough. But there are certain goals we have as humanity that cannot be denied. We need to harness clean energy, solar and fusion. We need to produce food in a more humane and sustainable way. We need to prevent and cure diseases. We need to provide education to billions. You will help all of humanity if you apply your technical talents in those directions.
“Within your education, make sure you are not passively accepting and regurgitating knowledge. It’s important to focus on and demand to do original research. Human creativity is still the essential ingredient to making progress. You need to train yourself to explore the frontiers, to put together the unusual combinations no one else has thought of.”
Sara paused, thought a moment, and continued. “Second, if you are not inclined toward science or engineering, there will still be opportunities for you to contribute to society. There will be a lot more leisure time to fill when people are not working 9 to 5. While it’s hard to predict what people will do with this time, I expect there will be a vast increase in travel, production and consumption of the arts and entertainment, and a renaissance in community engagement.
“So, Jillian, with your literature degree you could supplement your basic income by writing works that people pay for. Or you could write reviews that guide people to interesting works. You could organize a literary group in your community.
“You should also focus on entrepreneurship and leadership. You will be much more on your own over the next decades than workers in the past, who had the organizational structure of a firm to determine goals and plans. The world is going to need leaders, organizers, and doers, people who are inclined to take action. So, start an organization on campus. I hear all you need is three other people here at U. Mass to be recognized.” The audience laughed at the inside joke. This was a standard line from campus tours.
“I hope that was helpful, Jillian. Let’s take another question.”
After nearly ninety minutes of Q&A, a young woman near the front of the auditorium was handed a microphone. “Hi, Sara. I’m Elise, a political science major. I have to say that I’m confused by your positions. Sometimes you sound like an ardent free-market Republican, and the next minute you’re talking like a bleeding-heart liberal Democrat. If you were registering to vote here in America, what party would you choose?”
“None of the above!” said Sara emphatically.
This drew a huge cheer from the crowd.
Sara smiled. “I am not a Republican, Democrat, or Independent. I reject all those labels. You, Elise, and I are all human beings. So, I guess I would be in the Humanity Party.”
Laughter sprinkled through the audience.
“No, I am serious. My one guiding light is this question: what is the best decision or path forward for all of humanity?
“It’s not always easy to answer that, and as we learn more and our societies evolve, the answer might change. We need to have the flexibility to not be attached to rigid ideologies and approaches. We should be more like the best scientists, forming theories and hypotheses about the world, then testing them and modifying our assumptions and models against reality. This is easier said than done. Even scientists get stuck in their own paradigms, and there are always ambiguities in the data that people with fixed ideologies exploit to their advantage. But it’s the process of examining what we know against the goal of improving the lives of all humanity that’s important.
“So why do I sound like both a Democrat and a Republican? Because both parties have historically promoted some principles that have helped to move humanity forward. Like Republicans, I believe in the power of competition and reduced regulation in free markets to drive innovation. I believe that government monopolies are generally very poor at delivering services, reducing costs, or innovating. I believe in personal freedom from government intrusion, and from paternalistic programs that demean the very people they are trying to help.
“With Democrats, I believe in the communitarian spirit—that existence is not just everyone out for themselves. We have duties and obligations to each other collectively. I believe that in addition to changing the mindset of the wealthy toward return to humanity, or RTH, we do need to tax them to provide basic income and other services for the common good. I believe that markets require some regulation to manage externalities. I believe that opportunity needs to be truly more equally available, and not driven primarily by your…what do you call it in America? Your zip code.
“Almost none of this is black and white. Our societies have become far too complex for that. We need to seek the right levels of things and adjust them over time. We need some regulation, some taxes, some accommodation for historical injustice. And I can assure you that, in twenty years, all those levels will need to change, and we will need new mechanisms of governance in response to changing technology and society. So, let’s not focus on labels. Let’s focus on implementing solutions, measuring the outcomes for humanity, and improving our solutions over time.
Elise held onto the microphone despite the attempts of the staff member to retrieve it. “I think I would register for the Humanity Party, too, if we had one,” she said. “I have a follow-up question. With your emphasis on what’s good for all of humanity, do you think we should have one world government?
“No, Elise, I don’t believe in one world government. I am a huge believer in the diversity of ideas and cultures as stimuli for creative innovation. In fact, I’m very concerned about the homogenization of world culture. Every city, state and nation is a laboratory for figuring out how best to move humanity forward. Creativity comes from different perspectives and experiences. Stagnation comes from homogeneity and groupthink. While I endorse organizations like the United Nations for their ability to channel collective action, I would not want the UN, or any single government, trying to run the whole planet.
“Now, Elise, I don’t want to let your other statement go by. I’m going to challenge you as I did your peers in New Delhi. You would register for the Humanity Party if it existed? Well, then, bring it into existence! Remember what I said about people who lead, who organize, and who do? That’s what changes the world. You, Elise, and Michael, and Jillian, and everyone else in this room and watching in OP. Don’t just talk and debate and then get distracted by the shadows, or disillusioned by the dysfunction. Don’t be lulled into compl
acency by the chatter of conflicting commentary that is designed to incapacitate you. Do something!”
Sara continued to answer questions until there was a signal from a staff member near the front of the stage.
“Well, my friends, it seems we have arrived at the end of our time. I am glad to have left you with that final thought. I thank you so much for coming. Now, go do something! If you don’t act, who will? Namaste.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LOS ANGELES - OCTOBER 28
Tenesha was thrilled when she got the message from Nate. It said simply, Sara town hall U Mass Boston 11 am. Wanna watch together? She sent back, Sure! Where?
There was a long delay, and Tenesha cursed her lousy network service. Had she missed his reply?
Finally, after five minutes, her PNA buzzed. sorry, busy here. bunch of us will be at 415 Atkins #3. c u here? Damn, why had she assumed he had invited her alone?
She confirmed his invite and started puzzling over what to wear to a wish-it-was-romantic group town hall watching party. In the end she picked a nice patterned skirt and wrap-around beige blouse.
The bus was late, so she arrived with a just a few minutes to spare. The neighborhood was much nicer than she expected. The building had a facial recognition system that let her in because she was evidently on an approved list.
The door to Nate’s apartment was open and she could see a hallway full of people. Her heart sank as she pushed her way through the excited crowd, surprised at the size of the place. She probably wouldn’t even get a chance to speak to him.
It was quite a diverse group. Nate seemed to maintain connections with a lot of different communities—compared to her, at least.
She made her way to a substantial living room, which featured a half-wall-sized screen displaying the sarasmessage.com website. A couple of nice-looking couches and a dozen chairs faced the screen. Tenesha wondered if Nate was secretly richer than he let on. Or maybe he had a loaded roommate.
At last she spotted him on one of the couches and gave him a little wave. His smile gave her the flutters again, but even more so his signal for her to join him as he pointed to the empty spot on his left. Her heart sped up.
She weaved through the chairs and squeezed in next to him at the end of the couch. “Sorry it’s a tight fit,” he said, “but these comfy seats get snapped up quick.”
“No problem. Thanks for saving me a seat.” An electric pulse was traveling up and down her right side, wherever she was in contact with his body. Play it cool, she told herself, but she found that hard to do when he shifted around and put his left arm up behind her on the back of the couch.
Someone said, “Hey it’s starting. Turn up the volume.”
The applause at Sara’s entry played through some powerful hidden speakers with remarkable clarity. “Is this your gear?” she asked Nate.
“Nah, my roommate George. Trust fund.” He rolled his fingers together. “But he’s cool.”
They watched as Sara fielded questions, laid out her vision for the future, and called people to action. Tenesha was so absorbed she even forgot, at times, the delicious pressure of Nate against her.
The crowd in the apartment broke into applause at the end. But Sara’s final words—now, go do something, if you don’t act, who will?—hung in the air, a challenge waiting for an answer.
Tenesha surprised herself. She got up, walked around the coffee table, and stood in front of the screen. “So, what are we going to do?” she said simply.
The students in the room just looked at each other.
Nate pointed to the screen. “Hey, look at that.”
Tenesha stepped aside as the site refreshed by itself into a slide show of pictures of Sara and her audiences, with an up-tempo soundscape. After thirty seconds it stopped on a still picture of Sara staring directly into the camera. A link in large font appeared. TAP HERE TO DO SOMETHING!
Tenesha saw the nerdy-looking guy to her right holding a tablet tap on his screen. That was probably George, the roommate. The big screen dissolved into a simple list of three actions. Spread the Word. Contact Your Representatives. Create a Chapter. George tapped on each one to get a pop-up with more information.
The first one was obvious—post everywhere in omnipresence to get the word out about sarasmessage.com.
The second one had links for every local, state and national representative in the country, with a sample set of messages people could send. A pop-up explained that even though politicians were generally unable to break with the status quo, people could lay the groundwork for change with enough messages flooding their offices.
The third link led to a form for creating a local organization in support of Sara’s Message. Someone in the back of the room said, “Let’s do it! Let’s set up the LAU chapter!” Other voices seconded.
George tapped onto the form and started typing Los Angeles University. Before he could even finish, a search function had located the school and the screen refreshed into a form specific for their university. It listed the requirements for forming an official organization, including the officer positions that needed to be specified and a list of initial members. “Holy shit,” said George. “How the hell did they create an LAU-specific form? Did they do that for every college in the country?”
There was a quick discussion. Tenesha volunteered to be president. Nate offered to be Secretary. George tapped SUBMIT, and ten seconds later CONGRATULATIONS! appeared on the screen. You have formed the LAU chapter of Sara’s Message. Your initial website has been built at lau.edu.sarasmessage.com. Your officers have been sent links with admin permissions to edit the site. Hold your first meeting and decide on your goals. Spread the word and sign up members. When you have five percent of the student body signed up, you can invite Sara to speak at your campus. Good luck! George tapped the link to the website. It appeared a moment later with the school’s logo and a set of embedded Sara videos.
“Okay,” said Tenesha, moving back to the front of the room. “I hereby call the first meeting of this chapter to order. I propose that we all do an OP blast with links to our website. Let’s get the word out and get people to sign up.”
“What exactly does signing up mean?” asked a guy on the couch. “What is this chapter supposed to do? This seems to be moving a little quickly.”
To Tenesha this seemed obvious. “This organization is going to advocate for change. The system is busted; it’s not working for most of us. It needs to change. Sara is giving us a lot of the ideas. We need to use the democratic process to make them happen.”
Nate nodded and smiled at her. “Tenesha’s got it right. This is about change. Signing up means you want to work to make change happen. Organizing people. Petitioning people in office. Getting like-minded people elected.”
Tenesha looked around the room, demanding their attention, challenging each person to step up. “All right, get out your PNAs and spread the word. Then I suggest we hit that ‘contact our representatives’ part of the site.”
With everyone busy for a few minutes, Tenesha returned to the couch. There was even less room than before, which was just fine with her. “Wow, you really stepped up there,” Nate said.
“I know, I don’t know what came over me. Do you think we can really do this?” she whispered.
“All I know is that something real is happening here,” he said. He put his hand on hers. Oh, yeah, she thought, something real is happening for sure.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
NEW YORK/SAN FRANCISCO - OCTOBER 29
NEW YORK
“Good morning, everyone! I’m Megyn Robbins, and welcome to Morning Fresh. With me, as always, are my co-hosts Steve Brattle and Victor Langston.”
“Good morning, Megyn!” the men replied.
“Traffic and weather will be coming up shortly, but I can tell you it’s already getting crazy out there on the roads.”
“Speaking of crazy,” said Victor, “have you heard what that gi
rl Sara said yesterday?”
His co-hosts’ expressions converted instantly from light-hearted to gravely serious.
“I have,” said Steve, “and I feel so sorry for her.”
“That girl has been fed some seriously crazy ideas,” said Megyn. “She thinks welfare is the solution to everything.”
Victor shook his head. “She may look like a precocious sixteen-year-old girl, but at heart she’s an old tax-and-spend liberal, just like Walter Scott. And how is she going to fund everything? By raising taxes on corporations, of course! Everyone knows that’s a job killer.”
“Even worse,” added Steve, “she also wants to increase taxes on the wealthy—the real job creators in this country. No one else will have to work. It’s just the old class-warfare stuff all over again, dressed up in new clothes. This country was built on the principle that you get ahead by working hard. But Sara seems to be against that basic American principle.”
“Speaking of jobs,” said Victor, “She’s also a big fan of regulating employers. Meanwhile, our poor small businesses are already choking on regulations.”
AIStudio compared the hosts’ speech to its pre-programmed topic list and displayed some text in Megyn’s contact lens display.
“Well, look,” Megyn said sympathetically. “What can you expect? I mean, she’s just sixteen years old and she’s not even from America. In fact, we don’t even really know where she’s from.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “I wonder if she might actually be a new generation android.”
The men looked shocked. “Really?” said Steve. “Well, that would explain how she can speak all those languages and talk like some kind of professor.”
AIStudio completed its checklist for this segment. “Transition to weather,” it prompted in Megyn’s earpiece.
“We’ll be back with weather bots right after this, from the only channel that brings you the truth, and nothing but the truth!”
