At risk of someone stumbling across this in a few months and having no idea what this is about, let me specify who I’m talking to. This is not for the “average” AI shill, who’s brains are so gunked up with shite they don’t have any space left to think about consequences. No, instead, this is for the ones who know to precision that what they’re doing is wrong. Who try to couch their disclaimer in talks of labour rights and the evils of capitalism and how much they do really love the trees, with a flash-by footnote that they simply have to use AI in their projects if they want to keep doing what they do.
Fortunately for you all, I’ve managed to reduce this waffle down to a catchy two-word phrase. Now, your fans don’t have to pick through seven paragraphs to blast on social media, and can just quote this to anyone who has their concerns. Maybe it will save you all a token or two. Ready?
I’m white.
Because that’s what you’re actually saying, isn’t it? It might even surprise you that this is what you’re saying. Often it comes as a shock to people that such frivolous things are racialised, particularly white people who only read theory from white people, that anything could be so serious. When race gets involved, we all know that means something Bad. It can’t just be the inevitable outcome of a society that constantly rewards racism and a refusal to confront how much it benefits certain people. It has to mean that you, specifically, are Bad, and have done something Bad, and that you might even be a Bad Person. Perish the thought!
If you still don’t understand, eyes so red with rage and/or crocodile tears you can’t see straight, here’s what this means: You will never feel the consequences. You will always have the impact of your choices offloaded to the wretched of the Earth that you will never meet. You can read through every bit of theory, nod along and feel smart, realise just exactly what impact this will have, and make the conscious decision to ignore that and do it anyway without a single thing changing about your material circumstances. This is what makes you white.
You don’t even have to be white for this to work, is the incredible thing. White supremacy has this wonderful habit of duping even those in the out-group into believing this simply must be done. Piggy-back off their cruelty, reap those meagre rewards, and hope they really don’t see race like they always say. You can just play pretend for a small while. It’s fine. You’re giving them exactly what they want, anyway.
Someone I follow on Tumblr who lives in the Philippines posted a photo. It was a data centre, black-monolith taking up half the shot, now blocking off the view of the walk they used to take down to the river. It was just over the border, they explained, of the poor neighbourhood they lived in and the rich one bedazzled in the distance. It was barred with vertical strips of red lights, glow so bright it absorbed most of the image and neutered the night sky, an obvious attempt to imitate the villains of 80s cyberpunk novels the funders jacked off to as an adolescent, Japan clearly too rich to put up with their orientalism. They described how loud the building is 24/7, and how the frequency made them feel sick. How one day it was so bad they could see the dust vibrating off their walls. This was their fourth night of disrupted rest, the rage of sleep-deprivation coming through in typos and snappy language, hot tears of frustration not dappled on the post itself but certainly the keyboard behind it.
A few hours later, the post was deleted. Maybe it was deleted after a come-down and feeling embarrassed at a justified crashout. Maybe they didn’t want to be reminded of that thing outside their window whenever they logged on. Maybe it was the simple re-recognition of how white of a website Tumblr is, that it doesn’t matter how well you argue how much this is harming you, and no matter what you do to prove that you are, in fact, a person, they will not listen.
When you’re writing your little disclaimer, I want you to visualise them looking over your shoulder. Just a bit too far over, so you have to twist your neck and spine around far enough that it’s impossible to find comfort. Say the disclaimer out loud to them. Rehearse it well. Maybe add your own little spin to it. If you need a prompt, because of course you do, here’s something to get you started:
“Don’t worry, little girl [missgendered]. This is just how things are done now. There’s nothing that can be done about this impossible issue of thinking about a solution to a problem, or talking to another person, or using one of hundreds of search engines that doesn’t use this technology, except speak to the random number generator that’s killing you. You have to live on the knife-edge of poverty because I have to make videogames you can’t afford to buy. You understand why I have to do this, don’t you? Can’t you forgive me? Please? I feel bad. I need you to forgive me. I need this. You’re the one with power in this situation.”
You’ll be all torn up about it, I’m sure. Give them one thought and perhaps a prayer. Post through it with jokes. Maybe you’ll turn back to your screen, tell GPT to act as a confessional priest and ask it to remember this for you, and never feel a single consequence for what you do.
Because you’re white.