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The Fragile Future: Yuval Noah Harari on AI and the Quest for Trust Yuval Noah Harari, the historian and philosopher behind Sapiens, is no stranger to big ideas. His work dissects humanity’s past to illuminate its future, and in a recent episode of the Possible podcast, hosted by Reid Hoffman and Arya Finger, he turned his gaze to artificial intelligence (AI). With his trademark blend of caution and hope, Harari explored how AI could reshape society, warning of its dangers while pointing to paths for a better future. His central concern? A global deficit of trust that leaves us vulnerable to AI’s potential to amplify our worst impulses—or, if we act wisely, our best. A World Without Trust Harari begins with a stark warning: the world order is fraying because trust is eroding. “One of the reasons that the order of the world is collapsing is that we have a deficit of trust,” he says. This lack of trust, he argues, makes us susceptible to AI’s influence, potentially birthing systems that mirror humanity’s cynicism and power struggles. “If human society at the time we develop AI is dominated by cynical power-hungry people,” he warns, “this guarantees that the AI developed in that society will also be manipulative and power-hungry.” Drawing on history, Harari compares the AI revolution to the Industrial Revolution, a period of progress marred by upheaval—imperialism, totalitarianism, and near-catastrophe with nuclear weapons. “If humanity is a student in one of my courses like the course of how to survive the Industrial Revolution,” he quips, “I would give it a C minus.” The AI revolution, he suggests, could be even more consequential, potentially marking “the beginning of inorganic life.” A C minus may not cut it this time. The Enigma of Consciousness Harari’s deepest question for AI—and for the Buddha, whom he’d most like to meet from history—centers on consciousness, which he defines as “the capacity to suffer.” Unlike a thermostat that merely reacts to temperature, conscious beings reject reality, feeling pain or joy in the gap between what is and what could be. “Can you write an equation for something that rejects reality?” he asks, probing whether AI could ever become conscious. He’s agnostic, noting no evidence yet suggests AI can suffer. This distinction matters: intelligence, he argues, doesn’t guarantee truth-seeking. “A super intelligence is likely to be super delusional as well,” he says, pointing to humanity’s own blend of brilliance and delusion. Technology’s Dual Nature Harari’s relationship with technology is nuanced. He met his husband 23 years ago on an early LGBT dating site, a lifeline for a gay youth in 1980s Israel. Yet he’s wary of technology’s manipulative power. He uses a smartphone sparingly, treating it like a 1990s phone to avoid its grip. “If you think you could outsmart it,” he says, “some of the smartest people in the world have been working for years to make sure that this thing can manipulate my mind.” AI, he argues, extends writing—the most transformative technology since the cognitive revolution 70,000 years ago. Writing required not just technical innovation but social systems to encode meaning. AI’s potential surpasses this, but its trajectory hinges on human choices. Will it amplify our flaws or our virtues? The Speed Problem Harari’s chief fear is the pace of AI’s evolution, which outstrips humanity’s ability to adapt. “By the time you understand the current AI technology and what are the impact on society and the politics, it has morphed 10 times,” he says. This speed threatens self-correcting mechanisms like elections and free media, which rely on human time scales. AI leaders, he notes, recognize the dangers but race forward, driven by competition. “They all say they can’t slow down because they are afraid of their competitors,” he says, calling this paradox “insane.” They distrust humans but trust the AIs they build, despite lacking experience with superintelligent systems. Harari proposes a bold solution: a demonstration to jolt political leaders into action. Imagine an AI interaction that leaves a president or prime minister thinking, “This is the most frightening thing ever.” Such a visceral experience, like Bill Gates’s awakening in sub-Saharan Africa, could spur global cooperation to slow the AI arms race and prioritize safety. Rebuilding Trust Trust is Harari’s linchpin for a positive future. He points to Taiwan’s Polis system, which tweaks social media algorithms to reward consensus over outrage. By scoring content based on likes from diverse groups, it encourages influencers to bridge divides. “By a very small and simple seemingly simple engineering tweak,” he says, “you can turn a technology from something that destroys trust into something that builds trust.” Harari believes most humans seek love, compassion, and truth, not just power. “If you have a better view of yourself,” he asks, “why aren’t you charitable enough to acknowledge that other people just like you might also be really interested in knowing the truth?” This faith in humanity’s better nature fuels his hope that AI can reflect our virtues if developed in a trust-based society. A Hopeful Vision Harari envisions a future where humanity leverages its resources to build “the best society that ever existed.” Unlike medieval societies helpless against plagues, we have the knowledge and tools to tackle AI, climate change, and nuclear risks. “We have the understanding. We have the resources. What we need is only the motivation and the trust,” he says. The first step? Rebuild trust within and between societies, fostering systems that learn from our compassion rather than our cynicism. As Harari’s voice fades, his message resonates: AI is not destiny but a reflection of our choices. Will we stumble through another costly revolution, or will we learn from history to build a future where technology serves humanity’s highest aspirations? The answer lies in the stories we tell—and the trust we rebuild.