Tuesday. 6:25pm. The juncture of Pennsylvania and Independence Avenues.

If you haven’t had the pleasure (or misfortune) of experiencing happy hour on Capitol Hill, let me set the scene. Just a short stroll from the U.S. Capitol, Senate, and House of Representatives buildings, a handful of local watering holes fill with a sea of suits. Policy wonks and politicos with varying degrees of self-importance saunter over to take advantage of the glorious early summer weather and drink discounts while recounting the tales from the day.

It was a strange venue for a few local tech folks to meet, sticking out like sore thumbs in our jeans next to patrons in sharp business attire, but sometimes it's helpful to go into the belly of the beast to understand what's actually going on (and, conveniently, the Orange, Silver, and Blue lines provide a natural convergence for those of us coming in from the suburbs).

As we sat down over a pitcher of lager and bottle of white wine in the pleasant June air, our conversation naturally veered into the topic du jour: AI standards and policy. I'm the newest to the scene and candidly can be quick to make generalizations so I had hoped to be proven wrong — but my barstool companions for the evening (whose years of experience eclipsed my own) affirmed what has been my growing assumption about this town: policy and regulation are trailing AI innovation at a rate that poses genuine threats to society.

Yes, this is a typical drinks conversation. My friends are nerds. And there is one question on everyone’s mind: Will it take another 9/11-level event for DC to get serious about Artificial Intelligence?

There’s a lot of public anger about AI right now. But as the bottle emptied, what struck me most from our winding discussion was how this outrage, mistaken for countercultural momentum, is diverting focus from where the real risk lies.

There's been an immense amount of thrash caused by the rollout of consumer-facing AI products: artists are upset their work is getting used as source imagery, graduating students "boo" the mention of AI in commencement speeches as they enter a shaky job market, companies lay off large swaths of employees under the guise of "AI-driven productivity gains," and many neighborhoods see their electric bills increase as the data center frenzy reaches a fever pitch. Hating AI is in-vogue in many social circles, and even my YouTube commenters are vocally critical of my own involvement in the space.

It’s safe to say being anti-AI has become a new status symbol. This movement has picked up velocity and continues to see "wins": data center projects get canceled, companies roll back their AI initiatives in a return to human work, the list goes on.

That's all well and good! In fact I think it's healthy to have this level of public pushback and discourse rather than blind adoption of technology without considering potential future implications — we’ve seen that story play out before.

That said, this all feels like a sideshow to me. You can refuse to touch ChatGPT and reject talking to a chatbot customer service agent and protest a data center project then hang up your hat and call it a good day. But just because one individual is refusing to use AI does not mean that governments, companies, foreign entities, and criminal actors will not advance their own applications of it.

"Critical infrastructure" can be one of those nebulous policy-speak catch-all terms, but it's where the 9/11-level event would actually stem from. However, that's a hard leap to make when the day-to-day discussions get stuck on a chatbot clumsily drafting an email. The power grid, financial services systems, healthcare networks, chemical facilities… everything increasingly depends on software, and no one will care about whether kids are using AI on their homework when one of these systems fails. It isn't hard to imagine a scenario where a criminal actor, aided by AI, brings down a vital organ of American society. And for those sorts of catastrophes we are woefully unprepared — but THANK GOODNESS for the collective pushback on slop content.

It took me a few months to venture into the AI scene in DC. I was in town somewhat begrudgingly, still carrying a torch for San Francisco while also recovering from my short yet expansive stint in New York City. But as my caregiving responsibilities dragged on I realized I needed to embrace the fact that I was here for now and to start putting myself out there.

What I discovered on my explorations was disillusionment. Perhaps my expectations were too high, but with the pace of innovation and artificial intelligence's emerging prominence, I was taken aback by the lack of urgency in response. I should have known better given how long it has taken to even have a serious discussion about what comprehensive social media regulation could look like in the United States, but nonetheless I was absolutely stunned by the pervasive inaction in this city.

I've come to find that the seat of the government has an extremely reactionary culture when it comes to policy decision-making. The ethos is this: talk about the problem ad nauseam, profess to care about the XYZ affairs of the moment, and wait until a given constituency is at its absolute breaking point, demanding change. Then, and only then, will they finally slow drip minuscule 'solutions' to peripheral issues that have arisen — ones that could likely have been avoided with an inkling of proactivity. This of course is in direct contrast to San Francisco's fast-moving, freewheeling, disruption-chasing environment.

But alas, voters aren't currently bogging down their Senators’ phone lines with critical infrastructure complaints. So in characteristic DC reactionary fashion, this danger will seemingly go unchecked for a while to come. And the San Francisco action-oriented tech girl inside me is screaming, "WHY WON'T YOU JUST DO SOMETHING ALREADY?!"

There are a lot of things I love about the District (nerdy Happy Hour culture being one of them), but my time back here as an adult has also shone a light on the inadequacies of the governing happening in this place. I certainly don't trust the suits surrounding me sipping $3-off cocktails on a summer evening to take action at this pivotal moment. So will anyone? Or will we have to wait to witness the worst before we see change?

Curiously,

Kate

The best part of sending this newsletter is what lands in my inbox after.

I'm sure you've all been wondering whether my flag football team made the playoffs this season, and after our qualifying victory yesterday I'm simply so pleased to report that we did. Unfortunately, thanks to a scheduling snafu caused by the onslaught of patriotic events descending on the National Mall this summer, most of us won't actually be able to show up for it... but there's always next season!

P.S. — any New York readers? I'll send out a proper survey to start organizing full community events in a coming issue, but this week brings me back to my old haunt, so an impromptu gathering might be in order. Reply if you'd want in!