DL Open Thread Sunday Magazine: April 19, 2026

Filed in Featured, Open Thread by on April 19, 2026 2 Comments

The Most Replaceable BY AI?  Corporate Bosses:

In March, The Wall Street Journal’s Meghan Bobrowsky broke the news that Mark Zuckerberg was “building a CEO agent to help him do his job.” The purpose of AI Zuck was to help flesh-and-blood Zuck “get information faster—for instance, by retrieving answers for him that he would typically have to go through layers of people to get.”

To me, that sounded an awful lot like Zuckerberg was desperate to avoid talking to his employees. But earlier this week, the Financial Times’ Hannah Murphy set me straight. Sparing flesh-and-blood Zuck from talking to his employees, Murphy explained, is not the job of AI Zuck, but rather the job of an entirely different digital proxy, a “photorealistic, AI-powered 3D character” that we’ll call AI Zuck II. AI Zuck II’s avowed purpose, Murphy reports, is “to engage with his employees in his stead.”

Fobbing Meta employees off on AI Zuck II is necessary, per FT’s Murphy, because “Zuckerberg has become increasingly hands-on.” “Hands-on” used to mean doing what Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman Jr., in their bestselling 1982 business manual, In Search of Excellence, called “management by walking around,” or MAWA. But that isn’t what Zuckerberg is doing. Instead, according to Murphy, he’s spending five to 10 hours per week coding AI products and attending product reviews. Applying a Peters-Waterman-style analysis, I would call this “management by sitting splendidly on your arse,” or MASSA. I envision a spiral-eyed Zuck twiddling dials ad infinitum to create a secret army of Zuck cyberslaves that resemble the clone troopers in Star Wars Episode II.

When Mark Zuckerberg can use AI to avoid talking to the people on his payroll, and Jim VandeHei can use AI to talk into a digital mirror, the suspicion arises that chief executives are the most disposable actors in the AI-reengineered economy. I am not the first person to notice this. A September 2023 survey by the research firm edEx found that 49 percent of chief executives believed “most” or “all” of their jobs “should be completely automated or replaced by AI.” Anant Agarwal, the founder of edEx, told David Streitfeld of The New York Times that he thinks “80 percent of the work that a C.E.O. does can be replaced by A.I.”

Streitfeld further cited a 2017 survey in which 42 percent of 1,000 British workers polled said they’d feel “comfortable” working for a computer rather than a person (which doesn’t speak well of British bosses). In September 2024, an article in Harvard Business Review stated flatly: “AI Can (Mostly) Outperform Human CEOs.” Sam Altman, godfather of ChatGPT and co-founder and chief executive of OpenAI, told Axios earlier this month: “Our job is maybe one of the more automatable jobs.”

Then why the hell do we pay you so goddamned much money?

The economic logic of AI is that humans are expensive to employ, and no human is more expensive to employ than the human who runs the company. In 2024, the last year for which data are available, chief executives were paid, on average, 281 times what the typical worker earns, according to the nonprofit Economic Policy Institute. Why do we pay them anything at all?

Can Bees Outsmart The Elements Conspiring To Render Them Extinct?  I don’t know.  But they’re smart, and they know what they have to do to survive:

In April 2025, American beekeepers reported that 55 percent of their colonies had perished over the previous year—their worst losses ever. Kirby’s honeybees, however, are thriving. She’s spent the past 20 years working with her farming partner Mark Spitzig to breed and raise colonies, cleverly branded “LongeviBEES,” that are well adapted to New Mexico’s high desert and the Rocky Mountain region. Kirby and Spitzig don’t treat their hives with the synthetic chemicals most commercial beekeepers use to fend off the varroa mite, an invasive parasite that feeds on bees, weakening colonies and carrying viruses, and is thought to be the primary culprit in recent die-offs. Instead, they wait to breed their queens until after they’ve lived for at least two years—long enough to prove the bees are hardy and wily enough to survive on their own.

Ten years ago, Kirby brought some of those bees to Lucero, who creates candles, balms, and salves from the beeswax she harvests. Kirby’s instructions were simple: Leave the bees mostly alone, and let them learn to solve the challenges of their volatile world. And they have. “They really can figure things out,” said Lucero.

Over the past few decades, scientists have been learning more and more about the ways that bees figure things out. They’ve studied how honeybee foragers fan out across miles of unfamiliar terrain in their six-week adult lifespan, navigating by sunlight and memory as they visit thousands of flowers to retrieve nectar for their colonies. They’ve followed bees back to their nests and seen how they dance to tell others where the best flowers are, and how they make collective decisions to swarm and relocate their homes.

There was a time not too long ago when scientists believed that bees were automatons—mindless robots whose actions were hardwired into their genes. Even the most eminent scholars of animal behavior believed that bees’ actions were guided purely by instinct—“inherited through countless generations,” wrote German scientist Karl von Frisch, who won a Nobel Prize in 1973 for discovering how bees communicate. “The brain of a bee is the size of a grass seed and is not made for thinking.”

But in recent decades, researchers like behavioral ecologist Lars Chittka have designed a series of increasingly ambitious experiments that reveal the many ways that bees’ brains are indeed made for thinking. In 1990, when Chittka was studying bee neurobiology as a Ph.D. candidate in Berlin, he led a group of undergraduates to a gigantic agricultural field to explore how bees estimate distance and direction in a featureless landscape with no trees, bushes, or hills.

Now a professor at Queen Mary University of London, Chittka has become well-known for designing studies in custom-made testing arenas, confronting bees with unusual problems that they would never see in nature. (He has switched from using honeybees as his primary subjects to bumblebees, which live in smaller colonies that are easier to observe inside a lab.) By introducing bees to challenges “that none of their ancestors ever came across in their evolutionary past,” he says, his team explores the limits of the insects’ cognitive flexibility: their ability to alter their behavior as situations change. His pioneering work has spurred a growing body of research demonstrating that bees can recognize patterns, differentiate between symbols, identify human faces, cooperate on novel tasks, and plan for the future.

These unexpected abilities may stem from the unpredictable world that bees must negotiate. Foraging insects have to process more complex information than other insects. To retrieve nectar for their colonies, for instance, bees must search across miles to locate the sweetest and rowdiest blooms, remember where they are, and, on the fly—literally—perform cost-benefit analyses to determine whether the energy required to reach a sweeter flower is worth traveling the extra distance from the hive. They also must find water, dodge predators, and navigate a shifting compass of sun and sky. Social bees communicate that information to their sisters; solitary bees bear the additional burden of foraging, nestbuilding, and tending their young all alone.

The Chelsea Hotel 1970.   We’re talking the universe of Patti Smith, Robert Mapplethorpe and Andy Warhol, all under one roof. Two samples:

Patti in Chaos, 1970‘Patti was focused in some ways but anarchic in others. Her room was the epitome of “creative” chaos. Her husky voice gave you goosebumps, especially when she was reciting her own poems, which she did happily and often. It was obvious that Patti was on her way up, she wanted to go on stage, she wanted to be seen and heard. You could sense that success was not far away, that she would be famous one day’

‘Patti was focused in some ways but anarchic in others. Her room was the epitome of “creative” chaos. Her husky voice gave you goosebumps, especially when she was reciting her own poems, which she did happily and often. It was obvious that Patti was on her way up, she wanted to go on stage, she wanted to be seen and heard. You could sense that success was not far away, that she would be famous one day’.

Clown Girl, 1970‘Living at the Chelsea were the most formative days of my life. Even though it wasn’t easy, it was a very special time for me. I met so many fascinating people who confronted me with new ideas and lifestyle. My entire value system collapsed and had to be rebuilt. These people accepted me warts and all, I was one of them. In that atmosphere of acceptance, all the anxieties that had been drummed into me burnt to a cinder. I remember days when I was aglow inside, aglow and aflame. I felt boundlessly free, never again in my later years did I have an experience like it’

‘Living at the Chelsea were the most formative days of my life. Even though it wasn’t easy, it was a very special time for me. I met so many fascinating people who confronted me with new ideas and lifestyle. My entire value system collapsed and had to be rebuilt. These people accepted me warts and all, I was one of them. In that atmosphere of acceptance, all the anxieties that had been drummed into me burnt to a cinder. I remember days when I was aglow inside, aglow and aflame. I felt boundlessly free, never again in my later years did I have an experience like it’.

Here’s a key reason why the Chelsea had that kind of spirit:

For more than 40 years Stanley Bard  was the Chelsea’s director and hotel manager. Stanley started out at the Chelsea in 1957 as a plumber’s assistant, employed by his father, who co-owned the hotel. After his father died in 1964 Stanley took over. If an artist couldn’t pay the bill, Stanley would let them pay with a painting. This gave rise to a notable collection, which could be admired in the foyer and corridors. He clung tenaciously to his positive spirit and his unshakeable belief that there is good in everyone.

Among the other notable residents at the Chelsea was Holly Woodlawn, a Warhol superstar and transgender activist.  Meaning, there’s only one way to close out this thread.  For those unfamiliar, Holly is the one who ‘plucked her eyebrows’.  Talk about a song decades ahead of its time…:

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  1. Arthur says:

    You think throughout time the seminal times and places – Paris in the 20’s; San Francisco in the 60s; key west in the 70s; is there anywhere today with that burgeoning ideas voice?

  2. Bike Seat Philosopher says:

    I was never a big fan of Patti Smith’s music but her books are terrific, especially Just Kids and M Train. Check ’em out.

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