This morning I was reading this Puck article about the public relations woes of the AI industry. In short, having the CEOs and industry leaders tell everyone for years that their product will lose jobs for half the population and quite possibly lead to the extinction of humanity led to some serious reputational challenges for AI. (The article is paywalled. But that and what follows includes the gist.) Author Ian Krietzberg correctly notes that this isn’t just blather or bad messaging. It’s an investment strategy. Silicon Valley venture investing is essentially a well-oiled FOMO machine. Getting people to invest means pumping up the disruptive, game-changing nature of the product. Disruptive dislocation is the basis of all Silicon Valley venture investing since it’s the basis of the stratospheric growth of a small percentage of bets which makes the whole economy make sense.

But that’s not the entirety of it. Or rather the mentality of the key players in the space is so bound up and shaped by the dynamics of the investment logic. In so many words, it breeds a feral mentality and personality type. It’s no accident that you have architects of that world having famous mottos like “move fast and break things.” It’s a culture based on hyperbole and valorizing transgressive attitudes and actions.

A friend of mine ran an analogy by me which really resonated. Perhaps others have drawn the comparison.

In the late 18th century, what would later evolve into the British Raj was coalescing into full British domination of the Indian subcontinent — especially after two key battles in 1757 and 1764 waged not by Britain but a private company called the British East India Company. That made it possible for what were often British men of relatively modest origins to build almost unimaginably large fortunes. Life in India was a matter of extremes for British operatives of the East India Company, a joint stock company which owned what were in effect Britain’s Indian colonies. Countless young Brits went out to India and died in short order. But if they could avoid dying, in a relatively few years they could build these unimaginable fortunes. None of them wanted to stay. Virtually no Britons died of old age in India at the time. The whole point was to make as much money as possible in as little time as possible and get back to Great Britain while they were still alive. Then they would pour that money into an estate and land.

They were called “nabobs,” a corruption of “nawab,” a title in the Mughal Empire which originally referred to a provincial governor but evolved into something more like a hereditary lord as Mughal rule disintegrated.