Алексей Ощепков – Triologues of Interdependent People (страница 5)

“Oil is a traded commodity—and it’s politics. Authorities want everyone to drive ‘cheaply,’ stay busy, and be productive. They subsidize fuel. But water costs that much only if you insist on purifying it extensively. The state ensures water is extremely clean.”

At this point, it’s hard to believe—but let’s assume it’s true. Then why does a car cost as much as housing? A basic car costs as much as a room; a decent one, as much as an apartment. Most people would rather buy real estate—it lasts longer and can generate income. So… do they not want people driving much? Or do they want them to drive—but only through taxis and car-sharing, padded with markups? And why support these services so heavily when they already get to burn fuel at the price of water?

“Cars really are expensive to produce. Houses, meanwhile, we’ve learned to build cheaply.”

No. The same cars cost two or three times less abroad. And please don’t try to convince me they’re afraid of cars flooding the country—there’s plenty of space. In city centers, the state already profits handsomely from parking fees.

“They’re determined to preserve the auto plant—at all costs. What’s unclear about that?” Unkno’s fervor was already fading.

“Then why did dozens of other factories sink without a trace?”

“Oversights. Enemies of the state swarm everywhere, twisting everything toward ruin,” Unkno replied wearily.

“So your recommendations don’t allow the Emperor to govern the Empire with confidence.”

“Well played,” Unkno conceded without irritation. “What’s in your folder? I sense an entire arsenal.”

⁂

“Every self-regulating system functions only when it expects a positive ‘margin,’” the doctor said, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers around the last word.

“You want to instill a new value system? We’ve tried that already—collective dignity instead of wages, and so on. Spare me.”

“I propose a different substitution,” Cernus said simply.

“Then go ahead.”

“Everywhere there’s a kind of universal ‘laziness.’ A ray of light, passing through a water bottle, ‘figures out’ in advance where to bend to save time. Any phenomenon can be explained two ways: ‘because of what’ and ‘for the sake of what.’ ‘Because of’ photon interactions. ‘For the sake of’ minimizing action. The latter is simpler for calculations. It’s all about economizing.”

“Fermat’s principle and the Lagrangian—I get the gist. Scarcity is everywhere: money, oil, oranges. When something is abundant, they manufacture scarcity. Lots of water? Train people to drink bottled. Go on, Doctor—it’s interesting.”

“I propose replacing ‘scarcity’ with ‘laziness’—and then abolishing ‘laziness’ itself. Light ‘is lazy’—it won’t travel inefficiently. Oil producers ‘are lazy’—they won’t supply oil unless prodded with carrot and stick.”

“And what’s the stick?”

“Transferring your license to someone you dislike. Regulators, by the way, are also ‘lazy’—they won’t stay impartial. And people are ‘lazy’—they won’t work.”

“So it’s a rewording. Instead of ‘limited resources,’ you have abstract ‘laziness.’ Not a perfect analogy—but not foolish. What does it gain us?”

“The chance to reshape the social contract.”

“Hold on,” Unkno waved a limp hand. “Who implements the social contract? Politicians—with help from philosophers or sociologists. We’re powerless in those spheres—that’s certain.”

“We’ll simply offer a new payment atom in the form of a hypergraph. It’ll either take root—or not. But the contract is breaking anyway. Economics used to be about distributing resources. Soon, we’ll need to contain them within bounds.”

“Nonsense. That assumes AI will be intelligent, productive, and obedient—three incompatible traits. Either it’s productive and autonomous, in which case we’re doomed—or it remains useless. Doctor, let’s get practical. ‘There’s enough for everyone—but you’re not needed’ means AI is intelligent and has rebelled, rendering us all obsolete. Other scenarios are pointless—‘gaping at nonexistent sprouts.’ What boundless resources? Explain, or I see no reason to waste time.”

“I know the acceleration of the closed ‘West + East’ system—in your terms. The social contract is breaking down everywhere. They need a decoy—regardless of AI. But they’ve staked everything on it: reputation, hopes, money. There’s nothing left—only debt. They’ll keep beating around the bushes for another decade, promising: ‘The AI era is coming—soon, paradise for all.’”

“Who’s ‘they’? Who’s ‘them’? Why are you muddling my mind?” Unkno sighed. He wasn’t young. And he was tired.

“The West will lie and spread illusions. The East will play along, fearing truly intelligent AI might emerge. And we in the North will watch as they exhaust each other.”

“You’re devious, Cernus,” Rr. Unkno smirked. “Very well. I’ll grant that your prescriptions merit discussion. Might you begin with the most fundamental idea of all?”

⁂

“By all means, I will repeat,” Dr. Cernus nodded readily, without the slightest regret for his companion’s forgetfulness. “When attempting to explain anything—that is, to answer the question ‘Why does this happen rather than something else?’—one may start either from ‘What causes it?’ or from ‘What is it for?’ Suppose you pour water into a glass, then add alcohol. They’ll mix. Not instantly, but they will. If you layer the alcohol very carefully on top, at room temperature the process might take a full day. But the liquids will inevitably blend completely. What causes it? Tthe molecules—‘C-two-H-five-O-H’ and ‘H-two-O’—move relatively freely, colliding randomly. They couldn’t care less where the original boundary between the liquids lay. That boundary gradually blurs.”

“That’s clear enough.”

“But can you explain it using ‘What is it for?’”

“That’s simple,” Rr. Unkno replied. “It’s for fulfilling a purpose. Each participant—both alcohol and water—has a ‘goal’: to occupy the entire available volume. To be everywhere in the glass. Collectively, the system strives toward equilibrium—that is, a state where all participants exert ‘equal’ influence (from the system’s perspective), commensurate with their intrinsic properties—their ‘strength,’ so to speak. That said, such equilibrium may be temporary. New processes can emerge. In this very mixture, for instance, contraction occurs—a reduction in total volume—as alcohol hydrates form…”

“But that’s another story altogether—different one entirely,” Dr. Cernus cut in. “Or consider this: if you leave an economic sector unregulated, roughly the following unfolds. First, leader firms appear in various niches and locations. Then the strong absorb weaker neighbours. Those companies that learn to digest acquired businesses expand further. Those that fail either exit immediately or delay their demise by harming—or even eliminating—competitors through non-market means.”

“Some small and medium enterprises display remarkable stubbornness and tenacity,” Rr. Unkno noted.

“Yet even they vanish in time, for such obstinacy can only stem from someone’s personal will—and no one lives forever.”

“Quite so,” Rr. Unkno snorted.

“Eventually, a monopoly forms. The very moment the final acquisition occurs, the monopoly begins to degrade. It becomes a parasite killing its host. Managers, shielded by impunity, grow reckless; costs balloon; management quality plummets; customer abuse grows so grotesque that clients abandon the firm despite having no alternatives, and profits can no longer cover expenses. Almost certainly, however, long before that point, the monopoly and its key figures will have committed outright criminal acts—so even in a completely unregulated sector, the authorities will ‘squeeze’ them. For every heaviest crowbar, someone always has a Colt. Now, dear Rr. Unkno—what causes this to happen?”

“Because people strive for domination,” Unkno replied instantly. “Those who want everything—right now, at any cost—are outnumbered by the calmer types, yet they win through sheer persistence. Of course, there are also particularly cunning strategists who foresee the inevitable. Instead of building a brazen monopoly, they construct a lineup of ostensibly independent brands—and thus prolong the system’s agony.”

“And what is it for?”

“Il faut que j’y songe encore,” said Rr. Unkno, “if you’ll permit me to quote Lagrange. What is it for, indeed?”

“An excellent question—and thank you for catching my drift. Not every ritter of the Academy can boast such swift insight into a conversational partner’s intent. Truth be told, we converse not so much for answers as for the sake of conversation itself. Let me state the obvious, since you’ve pointed to the obvious: Nature prefers simplicity. Why waste extra resources?”

“You mean the heat death of the universe? But that applies only to inanimate nature—maximum simplification of everything, down to the end. In living systems—and firms are unquestionably alive—it’s different,” said Unkno, carefully concealing how flattered he was by the doctor’s words.

“Humans have so far succeeded only in replicating phenomena of the inanimate world,” Dr. Cernus hedged rhetorically. “We still lack life born in a test tube. Be that as it may, evolution always tries the simplest path first: aggregation. Did reptilian physiology work? Then scale it up—until it collapses. Want a faster locomotive? Keep building bigger and bigger—until it becomes uneconomical. Only then do we seriously consider redesigning the engine architecture and the whole apparatus.”