Before We Fear AI, Fear the Threat We Already Built

Turn on the news today, and AI is at the top of the news cycle. Artificial intelligence is having its moment, and it is difficult to find a major issue receiving more attention. Around the world, the conversation has a familiar refrain: AI could get out of control. It could threaten humanity. Slow it down, regulate it, cooperate globally and put guardrails in place before it is too late.

Everyone is talking about AI. The companies building it and the companies making the chips that power it are talking about its risks. Scientists, politicians, business leaders and governments are debating how fast it should advance, how it should be regulated and whether sufficiently powerful artificial intelligence could someday threaten humanity itself.

Those concerns deserve serious attention. But much of the proposed solution seems to depend upon one enormous assumption: that somehow the nations (and major AI corporations) of the world will come together, agree upon the danger and establish meaningful global rules to control it.

Are we kidding ourselves?

Look at our record. We already face global threats requiring exactly that kind of international cooperation, and we haven't solved them. Did I miss something, or did nuclear annihilation and environmental threats somehow go away while we were talking about AI?

Consider nuclear weapons. There is nothing theoretical about their destructive potential. We built them more than 80 years ago, demonstrated what they can do, and today nine nations possess about 12,200 nuclear warheads. About 4,000 are deployed with operational forces, with 2,100 to 2,200 kept on high operational alert.

Doesn't it seem obvious that nuclear weapons simply do not belong in a civilized world? Full stop.

These are weapons with a known capacity for destruction on a scale unlike anything else humanity possesses. Their danger isn't theoretical, nebulous or dependent upon predictions about what they might someday become. We know what they are capable of doing.

Yet humanity cannot agree to eliminate them.

After generations of diplomacy, treaties and negotiations, nine nations still possess nuclear arsenals. On February 5, 2026, New START—the last treaty legally limiting the strategic nuclear arsenals of the United States and Russia—expired without a successor treaty.

That brings us directly back to AI.

If the world cannot reach lasting agreement about the obvious danger of possessing weapons with the known capacity to devastate civilization through a single catastrophic decision, how can we realistically expect nearly 200 sovereign nations to reach enforceable agreement about something as nebulous and difficult to contain as software?

Climate change provides another example. Nearly every nation came together around the Paris Agreement, certainly a diplomatic accomplishment. But countries' emissions commitments are nationally determined, and the agreement's compliance process is explicitly non-punitive. Nations agreed that a global problem deserved a global response, but what emerged was an agreement largely dependent upon countries meeting their own commitments, without an international authority capable of enforcing their emissions targets.

Agreement is not enforcement. A conference is not compliance. Acknowledging a common danger is very different from accepting the economic, political or military sacrifices necessary to eliminate it.

AI makes that challenge even greater. AI isn't sitting inside a missile silo where an inspector can count it. It is software. It crosses borders electronically, can be copied or concealed, advances rapidly and promises enormous economic and military advantages. If one nation believes a competitor is developing substantially more powerful AI, will it voluntarily restrain its own development—or accelerate it?

There is another reason AI and nuclear weapons should be part of the same conversation.

AI doesn't have to push the nuclear button.

Humans can remain completely in control of that decision. AI merely has to influence the information upon which the decision is based.

Military and intelligence organizations must process enormous quantities of satellite imagery, radar information, communications and intelligence reports. AI could dramatically improve that process. But imagine a nuclear crisis in which leaders have only minutes to determine whether an apparent attack is real. An AI-supported system could misinterpret information, be deliberately deceived, make an innocent error or present an incorrect assessment with such apparent confidence that humans trust it.

The computer would not have launched anything. Human beings would still make the decision. But they could make the most consequential decision in history based upon information produced, filtered or interpreted by artificial intelligence.

Perhaps, then, we are asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking only whether AI might someday acquire the power to destroy humanity, perhaps we should also ask whether AI could make humanity more likely to misuse the destructive powers we already possess.

None of this argues against AI safeguards. Establish reasonable standards. Test advanced systems. Protect critical infrastructure and maintain meaningful human control over military decisions. International cooperation should certainly be pursued.

But we should be realistic about what it can accomplish. Nearly 200 sovereign nations will not suddenly cease having competing economic interests, military objectives and national ambitions simply because everyone agrees AI could be dangerous.

If the possibility of technological extinction has finally captured the world's attention, perhaps some of that urgency should also be directed toward the technology already capable of producing it.

The greatest near-term existential danger from AI may not be that it invents an entirely new way to destroy humanity. It may be that we connect an extraordinarily powerful new intelligence technology to the extraordinarily destructive technologies we have already created.

We are worried that AI might someday acquire the power to destroy civilization.

The uncomfortable truth is that humanity already has that power.

The Great COVID SIn

 

When Government Chose Who Could Compete

Competition is the foundation of every free market. Consumers reward businesses that provide better products, better service, innovation, and value. Government's role is best fulfilled by preserving a free marketplace rather than participating in it.

That principle was quietly abandoned during the COVID pandemic when government decided which businesses were "essential" and permitted to remain open—and which were "non-essential" and required to close. To me, that was the Great COVID Sin—not because it was the most controversial policy of the pandemic, but because it permanently reshaped America's retail landscape in ways that continue today.

No company better illustrates the long-term consequences of that decision than Amazon.

Before the pandemic, the retail marketplace was already changing. Online shopping was steadily gaining market share because consumers—not government—were deciding where to spend their money. Then, almost overnight, the rules of competition changed. Companies deemed "essential," including Amazon, continued operating while thousands of competitors could not.

Consumer demand did not respond uniformly. Airlines, for example, remained essential businesses, yet passenger traffic collapsed because people stopped traveling. Retail was different. Consumers still wanted clothing, books, electronics, sporting goods, furniture, home improvement products, and countless other goods. The difference was that many of the businesses that normally sold those products were legally prohibited from opening.

To be clear, this is not an indictment of Amazon. Amazon is one of the greatest business success stories in modern American history. It has transformed retail, lowered prices, expanded consumer choice, and improved the lives of millions of Americans. For many families—including mine—it has become an indispensable part of everyday life.

But while Amazon raced to expand capacity to meet an unprecedented surge in demand, thousands of traditional "non-essential" retailers faced the opposite challenge: downsizing, preserving cash, laying off employees, and simply trying to survive.

The issue wasn't Amazon's success. It was the government's market interference.

The numbers tell the story. Amazon's annual revenue climbed from approximately $281 billion in 2019 to $386 billion in 2020—an increase of more than $105 billion, or nearly 38 percent, in a single year. Across the United States, e-commerce sales increased by approximately $244 billion during 2020, the largest annual increase ever recorded. At the same time, traditional brick-and-mortar retailers suffered sharp declines. For example, clothing and accessory stores alone lost more than $68 billion in sales, while bookstores lost nearly $3 billion. Not every dollar shifted because of government shutdown orders, but the scale of the redirection is unmistakable.

Some will argue that Amazon's growth—amid traditional retail's decline—was inevitable. Perhaps. Online commerce was already expanding rapidly before the pandemic.

But that isn't the point.

Traditional retailers may ultimately have lost market share to Amazon through innovation, pricing, convenience, and changing consumer preferences. They deserved that outcome if it resulted from fair competition. What they did not deserve was to be denied the opportunity to compete.

Government didn't merely accelerate an existing trend. It fundamentally altered the competitive process by deciding which businesses could continue serving customers and which could not.

The issue was never who ultimately won the competition. The issue was whether everyone was allowed to compete.

The effects didn't end when the lockdowns ended.

Between 2020 and 2025, numerous nationally recognized retailers—including J.C. Penney, Neiman Marcus, Brooks Brothers, Stein Mart, Stage Stores, Pier 1 Imports, and Tuesday Morning—entered bankruptcy, liquidated, or dramatically reduced their physical footprints. Many exhausted cash reserves, accumulated debt, lost experienced employees, and permanently surrendered market share. Many never reopened. Others survived—but permanently weaker.

Would Amazon have continued gaining market share without COVID? Almost certainly. Would traditional retailers have continued facing intense competitive pressure? Probably. But those outcomes should have been determined by consumers—not by government deciding which competitors could open their doors.

History will judge whether the public-health benefits of these policies justified their economic costs. But one consequence is already clear: government permanently altered the competitive landscape of American retail by deciding which businesses could remain open and which could not.

Free markets don't guarantee success. They guarantee every business the opportunity to compete under the same rules. Government's responsibility is not to decide who gets that opportunity, but to preserve a marketplace where consumers—not government—determine the winners and losers.

Is Government Too Big?

 A Common-Sense Look at the Scale of Modern Government

Some argue that government is too small, pointing to healthcare, infrastructure, defense, and social programs. Others argue that government has become too large, citing waste, bureaucracy, and an increasing disconnect from the realities faced by ordinary citizens.

But is there a practical way to evaluate the issue?

A simple common-sense way?

In 2000, the U.S. economy generated approximately $10 trillion of economic output (GDP). By 2025, that figure had grown to roughly $30 trillion—an increase of about three times.

During that same period, federal spending grew from approximately $1.8 trillion to more than $7 trillion—nearly four times larger.

Even more striking, federal debt grew from approximately $5.7 trillion to roughly $35 trillion—more than six times larger.

GDP tripled. Federal spending quadrupled. Federal debt sextupled.

Today, 25 cents of every economic dollar produced in America flows through the federal government—well above pre-pandemic levels.

More important, government spending has grown faster than the economy supporting it, while federal debt has grown even faster than government spending itself. Excluding the Federal Reserve, itself a government-created institution, the federal government has become the largest enterprise in the world—a $7 trillion mega entity.

Of course, government performs essential functions. But the question is whether the current scale of government reflects necessity coupled with sound fiscal management—or is it built upon bureaucratic expansion, institutional self-preservation, waste, and mismanagement.

Spending has grown faster than economic output. Debt has grown even faster than spending.

No individual, family, business, or organization can indefinitely spend faster than income while accumulating ever-growing debt. Common sense suggests government cannot either

Two Common Sense Reforms

If government has become too large, what can be done about it? The best place to start is with the people responsible for spending and the rules regarding spending – term limits and balanced budgeting.

First, implement term limits along with reasonable age restrictions. Public service should be an honor—not a lifelong profession. The Founders never envisioned generations of politicians spending thirty or forty years inside institutions increasingly disconnected from private enterprise and ordinary citizens. Long political careers create predictable incentives. Reelection becomes the priority. Difficult reforms are postponed. Institutional preservation gradually replaces institutional reform.

Age matters as well. Most Americans retire from demanding professional careers sometime in their sixties or seventies. Yet Washington routinely relies on elected officials serving well into their eighties. The issue is perspective. How can an eighty-year-old senator realistically represent the daily realities of a twenty-five-year-old software engineer, entrepreneur, or young family struggling to buy a first home?

In private industry, leadership eventually turns over. New generations bring new ideas, new technologies, and new ways of thinking. Government should be no different.

Second, implement a Balanced Budget Amendment phased in over ten years. Governments should retain the ability to borrow during wars, recessions, and emergencies. But structural deficits have become normalized, with politicians routinely approving massive spending while postponing the consequences to future generations.

A balanced budget is not a radical concept. It is one of the most widely accepted principles of responsible financial management. Families understand it. Businesses understand it. Most state and local governments already live with some form of it. Spending should generally be limited to what can reasonably be paid for.

Exceptions will always exist. But even then, borrowing should come with a realistic plan for repayment. The current practice of financing today's promises with tomorrow's debt is neither responsible nor sustainable.

A Balanced Budget Amendment would also make difficult political decisions easier. Rather than endlessly debating who is to blame for spending reductions, policymakers can point to a constitutional requirement that spending and revenues must ultimately align. In that sense, a Balanced Budget Amendment becomes more than a fiscal tool—it becomes a framework for achieving consensus. Difficult decisions still have to be made, but elected officials no longer bear sole responsibility for saying "no." The Constitution does it for them.

With these two reforms in place, we can begin restoring responsibility and accountability while helping ensure the long-term viability of our country.

Shutdown Politics: Congress Gets Paid — Workers Get Nothing

 

During the last government shutdown, millions of federal workers went without pay while one group in Washington continued collecting theirs without interruption: members of Congress. The very people responsible for the breakdown in governance were the only ones insulated from the consequences of their own inaction.

Now with another shutdown looming as the temporary funding patch nears expiration early next year, it’s clear we are heading toward the same ritual of dysfunction — and once again, the political class will glide through untouched.

During the last shutdown, a few lawmakers suggested that Congress should not receive pay during a closure. It was a rare moment of self-awareness, and for an instant it looked as though leaders might acknowledge the unfairness of being paid while federal workers were not.

But the idea evaporated almost immediately. Members retreated to a familiar constitutional argument: congressional pay cannot be altered mid-term. While technically true, it was also a convenient excuse. Nothing prevented lawmakers from voluntarily refusing pay, delaying the cashing of their checks, or instructing the Treasury to withhold salary until employees received theirs. They simply chose not to take any of those steps.

What Congress Could Have Done — But Didn’t

Even under existing laws, members of Congress had clear, simple ways to demonstrate solidarity with the working class. They could have paused their own pay, deferred it, or donated it. They could have taken any visible step to show that if federal employees were going without, elected officials would share the burden.

Instead, Congress carried on with uninterrupted compensation while millions of workers — people they supervise and rely on — were left to navigate missed rent payments, mounting bills, and weeks of uncertainty. It was another reminder that Washington often operates like a separate, Ruling class, shielded from the hardship it imposes on others.

A Missed Opportunity to Lead

What makes this even more frustrating is how politically shortsighted it was. If a major party had stood together and announced that its members would forgo pay during the shutdown, it would have won an immediate surge of public goodwill. Americans are desperate for signs of fairness and shared sacrifice. A simple gesture of integrity could have delivered exactly that.

But no one took the opportunity. Instead, both parties protected the status quo, reinforcing the perception that Congress is out of touch with the people it serves.

A Reform That Should Be Automatic

The solution is straightforward: no member of Congress should receive pay during a government shutdown. The Constitution may complicate how such a rule is formalized, but nothing stops lawmakers from adopting the principle voluntarily. If they can shut down the government, they should feel the consequences alongside every other federal worker.

You’re not a leader if you don’t lead

Shutdowns are failures of leadership. When leaders fail, they should not be shielded from the effects of those failures. If Congress wants to restore even a thread of trust, it can begin by refusing to pay itself when the government stops paying everyone else.

Until that happens, each shutdown will continue to expose the same uncomfortable truth: in Washington, those who create the crisis remain the only ones guaranteed a paycheck. One word describes it: "Shameful". Stay tuned…

 

A Modern, Cost-Neutral Approach to the Immigration Problem

 

Stop Paying Top Dollar to Deport the Workers We Need

America faces a worsening shortage of unskilled labor in the very industries that keep the country functioning: agriculture, construction, food processing, hospitality, and elder care. Yet the United States continues to spend between $25,000 and $40,000 per person to locate, apprehend, detain, process, feed, house, and ultimately remove many of the same workers filling those jobs. The result is predictable: fewer available workers, higher consumer prices, and deeper strain on essential services.

This is not an immigration strategy. It is an extraordinarily expensive way to make a labor shortage worse.

A modern, cost-neutral solution exists. Instead of spending taxpayer dollars on a removal process that takes months and solves nothing, the government can redirect those same resources to issue swift, lawful work authorization to eligible individuals—people who pass identity and criminal checks and have verified employers ready to hire them in shortage sectors. No new bureaucracy. No added spending. Just a smarter outcome from the process we already run.

If federal agencies have the capacity to fingerprint, background-check, transport, house, and deport someone, they can just as easily fingerprint, background-check, verify an employer, and authorize a person for legal employment—at a fraction of the cost and in far less time.

The reform is simple:

First, create a field-issued, one-year renewable work card. Agents already conduct identity checks, biometric scans, and background screenings. Adding verified employment to that list and issuing a work authorization immediately is both logical and efficient. This avoids long detentions, crowded court dockets, and months-long processing delays.

Second, pair work authorization with real accountability. Require E-Verify, withhold payroll taxes, and enforce prevailing wages. Make the authorization portable so workers are not trapped by exploitative employers. Employers who break the rules lose program access and face penalties. This protects both American workers and authorized migrants from wage abuse and under-the-table employment.

Third, reserve deportation resources for the targets that matter: criminals, fraudsters, individuals with disqualifying offenses, and those who lack legitimate job matches. That is where enforcement dollars produce real public-safety benefit. Removing people who present no threat but fill vital workforce gaps is wasteful and counterproductive.

Critics warn that any legal work channel becomes a “magnet.” But the magnet already exists—it is the jobs themselves. Pretending otherwise does nothing to reduce illegal crossings; it merely pushes workers further into the underground economy, where neither taxes nor labor standards apply. A legal, rapid, enforceable work process channels that demand into a system built on transparency and rule of law.

Others argue that such a policy “rewards breaking the law.” Yet for decades the United States has sent mixed and inconsistent signals through varying enforcement priorities, sanctuary declarations, and political rhetoric. A clear system—identity verified, background cleared, employer validated, taxes withheld, and wages regulated—restores credibility. Those who qualify work legally. Those who do not, do not. That is the core of any functional rule-of-law system.

Congress can enact this tomorrow: a Work Authorization at Encounter card valid for 12 months, renewable, targeted to shortage sectors, tied to W‑2 jobs, subject to strict vetting and employer oversight, and reviewed after two years to measure cost, compliance, and labor-market impact.

It will not be perfect. No system is. But compared to paying $25,000–$40,000 per person to remove workers we desperately need, it is a far better investment. It transforms unauthorized workers into tax-paying contributors with traceable identities. It frees federal agents to focus on genuine threats. And it brings competence to a system long defined by inefficiency and political theater.

If the job exists and the person qualifies, authorize the work and move forward. That’s not generosity. That’s modern, cost-neutral competence.

Shutdowns Reward the ‘Non-Essential’ and Punish the Essential

 When Washington “shuts down,” the script is depressingly familiar. Agencies scramble, headlines blare, and millions of Americans wonder what exactly stops—and what doesn’t. What almost never gets said out loud is the obvious: everyone knows back pay will be restored when it’s over. Since 2019, retroactive pay is guaranteed by law. Which means a shutdown functions less like a serious budget tool and more like a perverse paid-leave program for some, while others carry the whole load with no pay until the logjam breaks.

The federal government divides workers into two buckets during a lapse in funding. The public hears “essential” and “non-essential,” but the official terms are “excepted” (must work) and “non-excepted” (furloughed). Here’s the kicker: both groups eventually get paid for the same period, but only one group is required to show up under threat of discipline—the people deemed most critical to safety and continuity. In practice, that means TSA officers, Border Patrol agents, air-traffic controllers, federal prison staff, certain medical and lab personnel, and a long list of other “excepted” workers still report every day—with zero pay until a funding bill passes. Meanwhile, many “non-excepted” employees stay home and later receive full back pay for the time off.

Explain to me how that makes sense...

We’ve created a system that rewards the employees judged least critical to immediate operations with a paid furlough, while penalizing the ones we cannot do without. That’s upside-down. In any modern organization, if someone is indispensable in a crisis, you compensate them for that burden—overtime, hazard pay, bonuses—something. At minimum you don’t ask them to float the government an interest-free loan on their own backs while others wait at home for the same paycheck to arrive later.

Defenders will say the terms “essential” and “non-essential” are misunderstood, that “non-excepted” doesn’t mean unimportant. Fine. But try telling an air-traffic controller working ten straight days without a paycheck that there’s no real difference. Or a Border Patrol agent juggling a mortgage while Congress argues. The effect is what matters, and the effect is unequal treatment.

Worse, the policy encourages exactly the wrong incentives. If everyone knows back pay is guaranteed, a shutdown becomes political theater with real human collateral. The broader economy takes a hit, contractors frequently don’t get made whole, and public trust erodes. But inside government, the message is clearer than any memo: the people you rely on most will carry the stress and cash-flow pain; everyone else gets a break—then a check.

There’s a simple fairness principle we’ve forgotten: If any are required to work, all should work. Either keep the whole operation running under a continuing resolution until Congress finishes its job, or shut it down evenly—no selective burdening of “excepted” employees. If Congress wants to maintain the back-pay guarantee (a humane choice), pair it with one of these fixes:

1. Automatic Continuing Resolution (ACR). If appropriations lapse, funding automatically continues at last year’s level for a defined period. No shutdowns; no weaponizing paychecks.

2. Parity Rule. If “excepted” staff must work, then “non-excepted” staff perform available duties (on-site or telework) rather than furloughing. If work truly isn’t available, redeploy temporarily to backlogs and public-facing service queues.

3. Hardship & Hazard Compensation. Mandate immediate partial pay or no-interest advances for “excepted” workers; add a small statutory premium (e.g., 5–10%) for hours worked during a lapse to acknowledge the burden.

4. Shared Accountability. Put elected officials and political appointees on the same cash-flow schedule as “excepted” workers. If controllers and agents wait, so do cabinet officers and Members. Watch how fast deadlines get met.

The private sector has a name for focusing resources on people who deliver the bulk of the value: management. Government should try it. Until then, we’re running a system where the most critical people get the worst deal during a shutdown. That’s not serious budgeting—it’s a moral and managerial failure dressed up as fiscal toughness.

If we mean what we say about service, safety, and respect for work, then fix the policy. 

Either nobody works—or everybody does.

Why Widening Freeways Is Making Traffic and Climate Worse — Not Better

Across America, traffic is brutal. Commutes are long, roads are clogged, and frustration is sky-high. So what’s the typical response? Build more lanes. Add more freeway capacity. Spend billions trying to “relieve congestion.”

But here’s the truth: It doesn’t work. It never has. And it’s making things worse — for our cities, our climate, and our future.

More Lanes = More Cars = More Emissions

This idea might seem counterintuitive, but it’s backed by decades of data. When you add lanes to a freeway, you don’t fix traffic — you invite more of it. This is called induced demand: when driving becomes temporarily easier, more people start doing it. Trips they once avoided now seem convenient. People move farther out. Sprawl spreads.

Look at Los Angeles, where thousands of people commute two hours each way from places like Riverside just to find affordable housing. Widening the 405 didn’t help. Adding capacity only encouraged more long-distance driving and more time behind the wheel.

The Carbon Cost Nobody Talks About

More cars on the road means more CO2 — even as electric vehicles grow. But there’s another layer most people forget: building freeways is a carbon-intensive process. It involves cement, asphalt, diesel-fueled machinery, and the destruction of natural land.

And once new roads are built, they fuel sprawling development — which leads to even more driving. It’s a vicious cycle.

Example? The Katy Freeway in Houston was expanded to a staggering 26 lanes. The result? Longer commute times and worse congestion than before. Emissions skyrocketed.

What If We Did the Opposite?

Instead of throwing more asphalt at the problem, what if we made the bold move to stop expanding — or even reduce — freeway capacity?

Here’s what would happen:
- Driving becomes less convenient — and that’s a good thing.
- Urban density improves, so people live closer to jobs.
- Mass transit becomes more viable and competitive.
- Total vehicle miles drop, cutting carbon at the source.

This isn’t a fantasy. Paris is reclaiming roads from cars and turning them into greenways. San Francisco tore down parts of its freeway system — and saw traffic decrease.

It’s Time for LA to Lead

Los Angeles has a chance to show the country what smart urban planning looks like. We don’t need more lanes on the 405. We need housing near jobs. We need walkable neighborhoods. We need serious investment in public transit, not endless expansions of freeways that only lock us deeper into car dependence.

Widening roads is easy. It’s also lazy. The hard — and smarter — path is to reimagine how we move and where we live.

Let’s stop building our way into more traffic and more emissions. Let’s start planning a city that actually works.

Sources

1.      1. UC Davis Institute of Transportation Studies (Duranton & Turner). ‘The Fundamental Law of Road Congestion.’

2.      2. Texas A&M Transportation Institute: ‘2019 Urban Mobility Report.’

3.      3. NRDC: ‘The Problem with Widening Highways’ (https://www.nrdc.org/stories/problem-widening-highways)

4.      4. Vox: ‘Why building more highways doesn’t fix traffic’ (https://www.vox.com/2014/10/28/7076365/traffic-congestion-induced-demand)

5.      5. Streetsblog USA: ‘Katy Freeway Expansion Made Traffic Worse’ (https://usa.streetsblog.org/2015/08/27/houstons-2-8-billion-freeway-widening-project-made-traffic-worse/)

6.      6. Bloomberg: ‘Paris Plans to Remove Half of Its Parking Spots’ (https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2021-02-15/paris-to-remove-70-000-parking-spaces-to-reduce-car-use)

7.      7. Congress for the New Urbanism: ‘Freeways Without Futures’ report.