Nexus summary

Humans aren’t the only species that cooperate – ants, bees, and chimpanzees work together as well. However, while these animals build hives or hunt for food collectively, they don’t create empires, religions, or ideologies. So, what sets us apart? Evolution endowed humans with the ability to tell stories and be profoundly moved by them. This storytelling capability allowed our networks to grow exponentially – connecting not just person-to-person, but person-to-story. We no longer needed to know someone personally to help or connect with them; we only had to share the same narrative, whether it was the story of the Bible or the story of communism.

If we examine humanity’s most powerful figures – kings, popes, emperors – it becomes clear that their power wasn’t derived solely from personal charisma. Instead, it came from the stories they embodied. The same is true today with modern social media influencers: they don’t personally connect with millions of followers, but they represent powerful, branded stories that resonate across their networks.

Humans are fallible, yet totalitarian systems must present themselves as infallible. Take the Christian church, for instance: its ideology revolves around an infallible God correcting the original sin of Adam and Eve. Similarly, Marxist doctrine argues that the working class can mistakenly identify with their oppressors, which is why they need the benevolent guidance of party rulers. Both systems restrict the flow of information, assuming their followers aren’t equipped to interpret it correctly. If information is too freely available in these systems, the original doctrine might be questioned or exposed as flawed.

So what’s the opposite of this model? A free market of information, where errors are uncovered and replaced with truth. In theory, this sounds ideal. Let’s consider one of the most significant milestones in the history of information networks: Johannes Gutenberg’s invention of the printing press in the mid-15th century. Before its invention, Europe had produced around 11 million hand-copied volumes of text over a millennium. Yet, within just 46 years of the printing press, over 12 million printed volumes were distributed.

Let’s fast forward from the printing press to another pivotal moment in the history of information: the invention of the computer. The first computers, built in the 1940s, were bulky machines designed for mathematical calculations. Yet visionaries like Alan Turing foresaw their potential to become so advanced that they could one day mimic human intelligence. Since then, computers have fueled groundbreaking innovations such as smartphones, social media, blockchain, and AI, all of which are dramatically transforming the way we live.

Consider the impact of social media algorithms on politics, particularly in Myanmar during the Rohingya crisis. After decades of military rule, Myanmar began to democratize. Facebook, which arrived in the country shortly before the transition, played a role in this democratization by enabling people to share and access information previously controlled by the state. However, alongside the rise of democracy, violence against the Rohingya, a marginalized ethnic minority, also escalated.

Move 37. If you're an AI expert or a fan of the Chinese board game Go, you know the significance of those two words. In Go, players place stones on a grid to capture territory in a game of immense complexity – far more complex than chess. During a landmark match in 2016 between Google’s AI, AlphaGo, and Lee Sedol, a world champion Go player, the AI made a move that stunned the world: Move 37. This bold, unprecedented move defied centuries of human strategy, and no one saw it coming. Yet, it set up AlphaGo’s victory.

Move 37 wasn’t just about one player defeating another. It represented a pivotal moment when AI outperformed humans in a distinctly non-human way. For many experts watching the game, it raised broader questions: What does it mean if AI surpasses not only our skills but also our understanding?