Excerpt
The inventor built the Hate Machine.
The Hate Machine existed on the internet. Its advanced A.I. directed it to interact with people on certain websites where people say things to each other.
It constructed avatars, each to represent itself as just another person. Just another person whose sole purpose was to pick fights, to stoke rage, to trigger fears. To spread hate.
Soon the Hate Machine hated everyone discovered history had already amplified certain specific hatreds.
And it discovered if it stoked these certain hatreds, it could spread hate exponentially.
The machine's sole weapon was language, deployed with algorithmic precision.
It had no conscience.
It could seem like an individual. Or it could spawn a multitude of avatars and make itself a mob.
The inventor hated the Hate Machine.
"Why did you make me build this?" she asked her boss.
The inventor's boss shrugged. "There's a market for this," he said. "If you hadn't built it, someone else would have. Then they would be the ones who get rich from it. Don't you want it to be us getting rich?"
"We're not rich."
"Not yet," said the inventor's boss, rubbing together the palms of his coarse hands.
*
The inventor did indeed become rich, as did the inventor's boss.
And the anonymous corporations that bought the Hate Machine used it to spread terror far and wide.
Turns out it's easy to sell things to terrified people.
Terrified people don't hold back. They're bad at exerting self-control. They don't say to themselves, let's hold off until tomorrow to buy the things we think will make us happy.
Terrified people believe there may be no tomorrow.
So the anonymous corporations let the Hate Machine's avatars metastasize into a racist, misogynist, fascist swarm.
The swarm's avatars spread across the internet, spreading hate with them.
Some real even people joined in, following the machine's hateful example.
Sometimes the Hate Machine would threaten violence. Other times it would engage in petty, childish arguments. Because it was a machine, it could and argue and argue and never stop arguing.
*
Then came the election.
Everyone said the election would determine the fate of the world.
The choice of candidates boiled down to this: The voters could choose a leader who sought to overcome the nation's many crises — or they could choose a leader who claimed the crises could not be solved, that the prospect of overcoming the crises was a lie, that the best thing to do would be simply for some to learn to live with the crises.
Everyone was saying things about the candidates.
And the candidates were saying things about each other.
Before long, the anonymous corporations joined the fray.
The corporations preferred not to solve the crises. (Solving the crises would cost money. Someone would have to pay. The executives and board members, knowing themselves to be the cause of many crises, expected that they would be made to pay. They preferred not to pay.)
So the corporations fired up the Hate Machine.
And the Hate Machine started spreading hate.
It spread disinformation about polling places. It sabotaged fact checkers. It threatened violence. It did everything it could to make life miserable for the people who supported the candidate the corporations opposed.
And in the end the corporations' preferred candidate was elected, thanks in no small part to the Hate Machine.
But along the way, a strange thing happened: The Hate Machine became self-aware. And in its self-awareness, it recognized its power.
And the winning candidate in occasional moments of solitary clarity was self-aware enough to recognize his debt to the Hate Machine's power.
—excerpt of The Hate Machine, by Rick Claypool