Sam Altman Goes Full Emperor
His boundless ambition is putting AI, and the world, on a dangerous path.
In 2008, Paul Graham, founder of the Silicon Valley firm Y Combinator, described Sam Altman, who was then 23 years old, like this: “You could parachute him into an island full of cannibals and come back in five years and he’d be the king.” In 2011, Graham made Altman a partner at Y Combinator. Three years later, Graham stepped down as president of the company and crowned Altman as his successor.
It soon became clear that the Y Combinator island wasn’t big enough to contain Altman’s ambitions. In 2015, while still president of the company, he co-founded a non-profit called OpenAI and became, along with Elon Musk, its co-chair. Within a few years, Altman and Musk were having disagreements—over, for example, who was alpha male. Musk left the OpenAI island and Altman settled in to run it.
I don’t think I’d be good at parachuting into cannibal-inhabited islands and securing political control of them, but I imagine that, if I were good at it, I’d follow this algorithm:
Be extremely nice and accommodating for a while, and gradually win the trust of the natives, who will thus cede increasing amounts of influence to you, until you have so much influence that you can drop the act and reveal your true ambitions. At that point you can eat them.
In this light, it’s worth revisiting Altman’s congressional testimony in May of 2023, shortly after ChatGPT had captured the world’s attention. He was a picture of humility and cooperation. He professed acute awareness of AI’s dangers and encouraged the regulation of OpenAI and other such companies. For a CEO to issue this kind of invitation was so unusual that it became the headline of the New York Times story about the hearings.
Connecticut Senator Richard Blumenthal, who had chaired the hearings, said, “It’s so refreshing. He was willing, able, and eager.”
Not to mention pure of heart! When one senator asked Altman if he made a lot of money from AI, he replied, “No. I’m paid enough for health insurance. I have no equity in OpenAI… I’m doing this because I love it.”
Fast forward to now:
This week California’s governor vetoed an AI regulation bill that OpenAI opposed even though the bill had been watered down to a point where Anthropic, OpenAI’s rival, had dropped its initial opposition. And last week, with OpenAI poised to close an investment round that will bring in $6.5 billion at a valuation of $150 billion, we learned that the company plans to become a fully for-profit corporation (having converted to a quasi-for-profit in 2019). And Altman could now get equity in OpenAI—around $10 billion worth, according to one report.
This last report, in particular, turned last week into a festival for Altman haters. Not content to just quote his congressional testimony about the irrelevance of money to his motivational structure, they circulated the video of it. Which really is worth watching, because you haven’t seen pious until you’ve seen Sam Altman do pious:
I take issue with these Altman haters; I think they’re hating on the wrong part of Altman. What’s scary about him isn’t that he’s good at getting rich (he’s a billionaire even without any OpenAI equity), but that, as Graham told a journalist in 2016, “Sam is extremely good at getting powerful.” I think he’s using that power—in Silicon Valley and in Washington DC and in various centers of influence around the world—to put the AI industry, and the world, on a dangerous course. Sometimes you even get the impression that he’s chosen this course because it would give him more power, and the rest of us are just along for the ride.
How to describe this course? Though Altman (wisely) wouldn’t use this term for it, I’d say it boils down to accelerationism—the idea that, when it comes to technological change, and progress in AI in particular, faster is better. There was a time when Altman sounded like the opposite of an accelerationist. Consider the view he expressed in 2022: