Kate Crawford: Mapping Empires

In this conversation, Blaise Agüera y Arcas and Baratunde Thurston explored what a story of symbiosis and interdependence might teach us about living alongside AI. Agüera y Arcas began by calling individual human intelligence a myth: we’ve always been a collective intelligence, entwined with our technologies. He traced this back to symbiogenesis. Life has grown more complex not by splitting apart but by merging, as separate organisms fuse into increasingly complex new forms of life. These mergers speed up change by opening new possibilities. Thurston agreed that union is in our nature but framed the current technological acceleration as a speed problem. We need time and new stories to adjust because, as he reminded us, “when you invent the ship, you invent the shipwreck.” Caring for one another through acceleration must be our prime directive, he said. The two then turned to how we relate to AI. Responding to Joanna Bryson’s argument that robots should be our slaves, Thurston said the master is also in chains — owning another dehumanizes the owner. As relational beings, how we treat AI will shape how we treat each other. Thurston called for both an expansion and a humbling of how we define ourselves: “We’ve overdone independence,” he said, “interdependence makes us richer.” Agüera y Arcas agreed and pushed us to drop a zero-sum definition of human intelligence, where every AI advance diminishes humanity’s value. As technology advances, we trade some individual skills for new collective capabilities, Agüera y Arcas acknowledged. But over the long arc of history, he believes, that exchange pays off in collective flourishing. Thurston didn’t deny this, but he closed with an urgent question: who controls the loss of capabilities and agency?

In a remote corner of the driest state in the country, Anne Heggli's team has been keeping watch over some of Earth’s oldest beings. Since 02012, Heggli’s NevCAN network has recorded conditions at the Nevada Bristlecone Preserve every eight minutes. The result is more than 120 million data points and a high-resolution portrait of how a bristlecone pine thrives. Paleoclimatologist Adam Csank showed how bristlecone microcores reveal the droughts and floods these trees survived long before us, a history that fine-tunes models of what's ahead. Artist and philosopher Jonathon Keats went further. “The most accurate clock,” he said, “is a tree.” His monumental artwork Centuries of the Bristlecone keeps bristlecone time, a clock calibrated to the trees' own growth over millennia. Together, Heggli, Keats and Csank made the case for long science: patient, continuous observation that will help us answer future urgent questions. “Data at this resolution,” Csank said, “is like a Rosetta Stone” for understanding nature’s resilience. At fourteen years young, the bristlecone record is just beginning, Heggli said, but it already holds the key to questions like these: How will bristlecones adapt? What happens when the droughts and floods they've weathered for millennia arrive faster and more frequently? “We can't answer the questions if we're not watching,” said Csank. “We are the stewards of this data,” Heggli concluded. “This is why we need long science.”

Today, we’re going back in the Long Now archives for a talk from artist and experimental philosopher Jonathon Keats, originally recorded on Apr 7, 02015. You’ll hear his original pitch for the monumental art project Centuries of the Bristlecone, launched at the Nevada Museum of Art earlier this year. Join Long Now Talks on Sep 29, 02026 for Art & Science at the Nevada Bristlecone Preserve, which will feature an update from Keats along with hydrometeorologist and Long Now Research Fellow Anne Heggli and paleoclimatologist and dendrochronologist Adam Csank sharing their work on our Mt. Washington property in Eastern Nevada. More information and tickets here: https://longnow.org/talks/02026-heggli-keats-csank/

In his Talk, poet-philosopher Bayo Akomolafe presented a riveting critique of linear time, and gave a persuasive invitation to step sideways, to slow down, to notice the cracks in our temporal systems. Through Yoruba cosmology, slave ship histories, and decolonization strategies, he invited us to look at the space between the tick and the tock, to sit in the uncomfortable and incomplete. Only here, in what Akomolafe calls “parapolitics of the untimely,” can we ask, “What does untimeliness make possible?”

**This evening is made possible with generous support from the John Templeton Foundation.** How do the binary electronic signals of neurons give rise to subjective experience? Mathematician and machine learning researcher Nina Miolane joined science historian Claire Isabel Webb to explore this question from an unexpected direction: geometry. Plotting the collective firing rate of neurons in 3D space, Miolane's Geometric Intelligence Lab at UC Santa Barbara found the result created a torus. When they trained an artificial neural network on the same task, it converged on the same shape. Miolane posits that biological and artificial intelligence may be reaching for a universal computational design. In this fascinating conversation, Webb and Miolane discussed how geometry is the most ancient branch of physics; it is the language we use to describe the curvature of spacetime and the General Relativity of the universe. Might it also map the universe inside us?

What if we redefined “profit” as maximizing human flourishing? Eric Ries has seen the corrosive effects of shareholder primacy at every company he’s worked with. Mission-driven companies, however, are the outliers: demonstrating stronger profits, better talent, and deeper loyalty. So why don't we build differently? In the long arc of economic history, our current definitions of profit and value are relatively new, held in place by normative consensus. But we can flip the script. By using what Ries calls “mission transmission,” we can build companies around a coherent set of values, where profit becomes the natural extension of those values, rather than the only goal. “Start with the thing you have the most agency over," he said. "You can decide the purpose of your work.” We built this system, Ries urged, so we can rebuild it better.

The ocean is not empty. It is a vast storage facility of memory agents. Ocean bodies use the chemical signatures of seawater for memory and intelligence in ways we can barely imagine. In her Talk, Melody Jue said our struggle to understand ocean memory comes from our terrestrial bias. This bias shapes what we try to protect and the technologies we develop. We must, she said, “deterritorialize the sensorium.” For example, the vertical depths of the Pacific carry thermal signatures of ancient ice ages. Arctic glaciers are laced with matrices of microbes retaining genes from before the Great Oxidation Event. Whale songs are also memory agents, passed down through generations, preserving the cultural histories of the planet's largest creatures. Corals hold memory, too. Those exposed earlier to changing ocean pH are more resilient to acidification. Meanwhile, human cultural memory is in danger of disappearing alongside these ecosystems. Jue pointed to Indigenous and traditional environmental knowledge at risk, like the Ama divers’ fishing tradition, as abalone populations drop. To better translate the ocean sensorium, Jue worked with interdisciplinary artists, musicians, divers, and researchers to develop soundscapes that help us “smell” with our ears, remapping chemosensation through synesthesia. Don’t miss the moment in the Talk where she plays two original music pieces that use the density and flow of sound to mimic chemical gradients of seawater. “The ocean teaches us humility,” Jue concluded. “It makes us confront our preconceptions about the planet and sensation.”

"The world is terrible, and the world is better," Stefan Sagmeister said. "Both can be true." It all depends on perspective. In his Long Now Talk, Finally, something good, Sagmeister urged us to zoom out. The faster the news cycle spins, and the more we scroll, the more we catastrophize. Meanwhile, the things that improve tend to do so slowly and quietly. In this visually stunning talk, Sagmeister takes us on a journey through his body of work, transforming long-term data on human progress into striking works of art.

Indy Johar pointed to the first photographs of the whole Earth taken from space. “This was the moment the planet became self-aware." This planetary consciousness came with new responsibility, he argued. The task before us is not simply to survive, but to reimagine civilization as a planetary project. As climate and ecological instability creates extreme whiplash effects, we will find it increasingly difficult to predict, prepare, or govern at a global scale. And as artificial intelligence reshapes labor and value, Johar urged us all to reevaluate what it means to be human. So what does that require in a time of such intense, cascading volatility? Indy’s answer is civilizational optionality: the breathing room that keeps futures open when shocks compound and our fates are systematically coupled. As humans, we can't know everything — it's a cognitive impossibility. “But there is a beautiful liberation in accepting our partial knowing,” he said. Reframing this limitation as possibility opens us up to more curiosity and “ways of being that are about tenderness, tentativeness, and care.” Johar imagines a future that leverages human–machine systems that expand our civilizational capacity for complex discourse and problem solving. Intelligence, in this view, is a conversational field: a meta-capacity for coordination, dialogue, and collective sense-making across sectors, species, and systems. Climate cascades will not be local; our planetary fates are entangled. Meeting this reality demands an approach to civilization that is capable of responding to volatility and holding uncertainty. As Johar said with a smile: “It is time to have a fucking worldview.”

Kate Crawford’s Long Now Talk traces an historical arc from Renaissance perspective to AI image models, illustrating how shifts in representational power shape empires, economies—even our shared sense of reality. During the talk, Crawford gives a tour through her detailed artwork Calculating Empires. Through examples ranging from Liebig’s critique of agriculture “robbing” soil nutrients, to Faraday’s latex insulation that devastated rubber forests, Crawford shows how technologies have long created “metabolic rifts”: systems that extract more than they regenerate.  Don't miss the closing Q&A, where host Kevin Kelly asks Crawford what responsible, non-extractive AI might look like.