Keen On America

“The pinnacle of capitalism is still flawed. Any idea that it’s perfect — this idea of the perfect union — is deeply flawed as a concept and always has been.” — Keith Teare
 
With July 4 finally done, we can look forward to the next American revolution. Just as AI is revolutionizing the economy, so too are radical ideas about harnessing this disruption for the benefit of all Americans. One idea that is acquiring more and more currency in and out of Silicon Valley is what we might call universal basic capitalism.
 
Six months ago, nobody knew what “universal basic capital” even meant. Now everyone is talking about it. What if the answer to inequality, AI disruption, and the slow hollowing out of the American economy isn’t a return to socialism — but a new, more distributive kind of capitalism? As That Was The Week’s Keith Teare argues in our weekly tech roundup, universal basic capitalism offers the best way to simultaneously empower all Americans without turning them into the welfare “queens” so disparaged by neo-liberals.
 
Economists agree that AI is going to eliminate vast numbers of jobs, probably within the decade, certainly in time for America’s 300th anniversary. One fix is the democratic socialist strategy of tax and spend through the state. Universal basic capitalism, in contrast, takes the wealth generated by AI companies, puts it into a sovereign wealth fund, and distributes the dividends directly to citizens. Rather than an ever-more-bloated bureaucracy redistributing wealth, the state miraculously shrinks.
 
It’s a neat idea. Instead of welfare queens, we get shareholding kings. But is this really the next American revolution? Or just the trickle-down economics of the DOGE crowd for an AI age of mass unemployment?
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       America the Beautiful — and Its Profound Flaws: Keith’s 250th editorial acknowledges America’s extraordinary achievements: the growth in wealth, living standards, and democratic governance over two and a half centuries. The fact that Donald Trump won the presidency, Keith notes, is itself evidence that the people still rule — most intellectuals didn’t want him, but the people voted for him. At the same time: capitalism at its best still has huge swathes of poor people who can barely eat. The perfect union is deeply flawed as a concept and always has been. America has probably peaked in world terms. The next 250 years are not a foregone conclusion.
 
•       1,200 New Millionaires a Day: The American Prosperity Machine: The stat of the week: the United States added 1,200 new millionaires a day last year, bringing its total to nearly 24 million. China has just over 5 million; Italy, the Netherlands, South Korea, Australia, France, and the UK are all under 3 million. The math: US GDP per capita is around $85,000 a year; China’s is around $20,000-something. In California in particular, where house prices routinely exceed $1 million and there are 50–60 million residents, the numbers are doing a lot of work disguising a highly skewed distribution concentrated in coastal cities.
 
•       Universal Basic Capital vs Democratic Socialism: The State Shrinks: Keith draws a sharp distinction between UBC — the sovereign wealth fund model — and democratic socialism as practised by Mamdani, Sanders, and AOC. In the socialist tradition, you seize the state through elections and use taxes and spending for good ends. Under UBC, the sovereign wealth fund becomes the distribution mechanism and the state shrinks to an administrative function: roads, health, education, defence. The actual AI companies don’t become the state. The state becomes a shareholder in the fund. Money flows to citizens; the state shrinks. It’s an interesting inversion.
 
•       The AI Jobs Debate: Short-Term Boom, Long-Term Automation: Erik Brynjolfsson of Stanford is at the centre of a debate this week. One body of evidence says companies using AI are hiring faster than companies that don’t — Amazon and Microsoft both announced plans to put thousands of engineers on the front line helping customers implement AI. But Brynjolfsson’s longer view says automation will accelerate: the things you need a front-end engineer for today will be done by agents tomorrow. Keith agrees with the long view: declining employment over five to fifteen years, which doesn’t have to be a bad thing if universal basic capital is in place. Look at Musk’s robot plans. It is definitely declining employment.
 
•       Om Malik: The Liberal Humanist Who Prefigured Substack: Om Malik died this week at 59 — the tech journalist and venture capitalist who founded GigaOm and co-hosted the Crunchies with Mike Arrington. Keith knew him from Iceland, from photography, from the whole era of early tech blogging. His assessment: Om was a liberal with a capital L and a humanist, often writing critically about the extremes of capitalism and favourably about remedies. He became a capitalist to be independent, and that independence gave him freedom. Without GigaOm and TechCrunch, there would be no Substack. The line runs from the New York Times to GigaOm to TechCrunch to Substack to That Was The Week. Thank you, Om.
 
About the Guest
 
Keith Teare is a British-American entrepreneur, investor, and publisher of the That Was The Week newsletter. He is a co-founder of TechCrunch and Andrew’s regular TWTW co-host.
 
References:
 
•       That Was The Week by Keith Teare — the newsletter on which this episode is based.
 
•       Erik Brynjolfsson (Stanford) — referenced for his argument that AI will accelerate long-term job automation, despite short-term hiring booms.
 
•       Jennifer Harris, “The Generational Force Hollowing Out the Economy,” The New York Times — referenced in the closing discussion.
 
•       Om Malik — founder of GigaOm; venture capitalist at True Ventures; died July 4, 2026, aged 59.
 
•       MG Siegler — referenced for his obituary of Om Malik.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 3,000 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.
 
Website
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Chapters:

“What is happening today in America is part of a global political turn — and what’s odd is how little the American people seem to realize it.” — Madeleine Schwartz
 
So we’ve finally arrived. America is 250 today. But where, exactly, have we come? How should we think about the United States of America on July 4, 2026?
 
Rather than peering inwards, Madeleine Schwartz — the Paris-based founder and editor-in-chief of The Dial — reverses the lens. Her anthology, How We See It: The World Looks at America in the Age of Trump (The New Press), gathers twelve essays from writers in India, Canada, South Africa, Ukraine, Palestine, Taiwan, Turkey, Cuba, Egypt, Argentina, Italy, and Ireland. The result might be the most honest birthday message that America will receive today.
 
What these writers all observe is the same extraordinary ambivalence about the United States. They describe a country that defines itself as the democratic purveyor of justice, while operating as a vast imperial and economic power that shapes the lives of the rest of the world. What’s odd — and Schwartz uses that word carefully — is how few Americans seem to realise this is how the world sees them.
 
“The question of America is vast. It is unrelenting and unanswerable and will not be silenced,” the Gaza poet Muhammad al-Zaqzouq notes in his essay. Happy birthday, odd America. You might not know it, but the rest of the world is watching. And they won’t forget what they’ve seen.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The World’s Ambivalence: Purveyor of Hope, Imperial Power: Schwartz’s central finding from twelve countries of essays: the world does not simply hate or love America. It holds a profound ambivalence — between the country that presents itself as the beacon of hope and democracy, and the country that is a vast imperial and economic power that shapes the lives of billions who have no vote in its elections. This ambivalence is, she argues, almost impossible to fully understand from inside the United States, where the assumption of benign intent is so deep. The essays collectively diagnose what the US’s retreat from that self-image means for the world’s ability to find alternative frameworks.
 
•       Turkey and America: Erdoğan and Trump Have Learned From Each Other: Kaya Genç’s essay from Turkey is one of the collection’s most original: the Turkish right has long admired the vast powers of the American presidency as a model to follow, even as that same right has been characterised by American commentators as anti-American or Islamist. The admiration was never for American values — for free speech or civil liberties — but for the structural power of the presidency. Trump, meanwhile, has learned from Erdoğan’s playbook of media control, legal intimidation, and institutional capture. The learning has gone in both directions. What is happening in America, Genç argues, is not exceptional — it is part of a global turn.
 
•       Taiwan: Self-Defence Classes and Going It Alone: Michelle Kuo’s essay from Taiwan describes a country that has fundamentally revised its relationship with the United States. For decades, many Taiwanese believed that by adhering to certain principles — upholding liberal values, supporting LGBTQ rights, maintaining civil liberties — they would gain American favour and the protection that came with it. That thinking is now gone. People in Taiwan are taking self-defence classes, preparing for a possible Chinese invasion without the expectation of outside help. And the values they uphold — civil liberties, LGBTQ rights — are upheld now because they actually want them, not to please Washington.
 
•       The Dial: 90 Countries, One Third in Translation, Based in Paris: Schwartz founded The Dial four years ago in response to a sense that American media was turning catastrophically inward, unable to understand its own moment without comparison to what was happening elsewhere. The magazine publishes work from some 90 countries, about a third of it in translation, and aims to bring voices from outside the Anglophone foreign correspondent establishment. Several pieces from the book were reprinted in The Guardian. The anthology grew from a special issue published during the 2024 election, asking writers from around the world to look at the United States — a reversal of the magazine’s usual direction. Schwartz will be talking about the book in Paris on July 4, not eating hot dogs.
 
•       The Question of America: The Gaza Poet’s Unanswerable Verdict: Muhammad al-Zaqzouq is a Gazan poet and father of three who has spent years trying to reach the United States, only to find that under Trump’s America, asylum is no longer a possibility. His essay traces a lifetime of ambivalence — America as site of exclusion and segregation, America as specter of another possible life, America as the dream that institutions offer and that the firm hand of diplomacy snatches away. Schwartz reads the closing lines in the interview: “The question of America is vast. It is unrelenting and unanswerable and will not be silenced.” Of all the voices in the anthology, it is the one that stays.
 
About the Guest
 
Madeleine Schwartz is the founder and editor-in-chief of The Dial, an online magazine of culture, politics, and ideas with a focus on local writing from around the world. She is the editor of How We See It: The World Looks at America in the Age of Trump (The New Press, June 9, 2026). Her writing appears in The London Review of Books, The New Yorker, and The New York Review of Books. She teaches journalism at Sciences Po in Paris, where she is based.
 
References:
 
•       How We See It: The World Looks at America in the Age of Trump edited by Madeleine Schwartz / The Dial (The New Press, June 9, 2026). Essays from India, Canada, South Africa, Ukraine, Palestine, Taiwan, Turkey, Cuba, Egypt, Argentina, Italy, and Ireland.
 
•       The Dial — Schwartz’s magazine of international writing, based in Paris.
 
•       Kaya Genç (Turkey), Michelle Kuo (Taiwan), Muhammad al-Zaqzouq (Gaza), Eve Fairbanks (South Africa) — among the essayists referenced in this conversation.
 
•       Adam Shatz, blurb: “To read this rich, subtle, and moving anthology is to be reminded that it is often foreigners who understand us best.”
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 3,000 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is t...

Tomorrow, America will celebrate its birth. But the decisive moment, even the real birth of modern America, argues Alexander Mikaberidze in his new book The Louisiana Purchase: The Grand Bargain and the Making of America, may not have been 1776 at all. It was 1803, the year of the Louisiana Purchase. The year Thomas Jefferson bought the future from Napoleon Bonaparte. This was the moment the young American republic doubled its size in a single transaction, absorbed the heart of a continent and set itself on the path to becoming a global superpower.
 
The numbers associated with the Louisiana Purchase are staggering. 828,000 square miles. Thirteen states. Fifteen million dollars — four cents an acre, so the mythology tells us. But Mikaberidze reminds us that the deal Jefferson signed did not actually grant the United States the land. Instead, it merely authorised the republic to negotiate the acquisition of land still owned by Native Americans. So it became the founding event of the US-Indian Treaty System that produced over 200 Native American cessions between 1804 and 1970, and cost the Republic billions of dollars.
 
The Louisiana Purchase was America’s grand Faustian bargain. It was a deal that not only enabled America’s eventual rise as a 20th century superpower, but also the expansion of slavery, the destruction of Native peoples, and the 19th century imperial reach of the Monroe Doctrine. So forget 1776 and save the fireworks to remember 1803. And celebrate with croissants rather than hot dogs. Without Napoleon Bonaparte’s generosity, the United States might be just another regional power like France.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       The Louisiana Purchase: Arguably the Decisive Moment in American History: Mikaberidze’s opening argument: if you had to pick the single most important moment in American history, 1803 has a stronger claim than 1776. Independence established the republic. The Louisiana Purchase made it a continental power. 828,000 square miles. Thirteen states. The heart of the continent. Securing the Mississippi for American commerce. Laying the groundwork for the Monroe Doctrine, Manifest Destiny, and America’s eventual emergence as a global superpower. The revolution created the nation. The purchase created its destiny.
 
•       Four Cents an Acre? The Real Price Was Billions: The famous number: $15 million, or four cents an acre. The less famous fact: the agreement Jefferson signed did not grant the United States the land. It merely authorised the republic to negotiate the acquisition of the land, which was still owned by Native Americans. The Louisiana Purchase was the founding event of the US-Indian Treaty System — which produced over 200 Native American cessions between 1804 and 1970, and cost the United States not $15 million but billions of dollars. What appeared to be the greatest real estate deal in history was actually an authorisation to conduct the most expensive series of land negotiations in history.
 
•       The Grand Faustian Bargain: Slavery, Native Peoples, and the Monroe Doctrine: Andrew’s formulation — the Grand Faustian Bargain, the deal with the devil — is one Mikaberidze accepts. The purchase did three things simultaneously: it made America a continental power and a future superpower; it enabled the expansion of slavery into the vast new territory (the Missouri crisis of 1820 was a direct consequence); and it set in motion the dispossession of Native peoples at a scale and speed that would otherwise have been impossible. The Monroe Doctrine — America’s declaration that the Western Hemisphere was its sphere of influence — would not have been conceivable without the continental reach the purchase provided.
 
•       Napoleon’s Bad Weather: The Contingency That Made America: The counterfactual at the heart of Mikaberidze’s book: in October 1802, Napoleon had 4,000 veteran French troops ready to sail for New Orleans. The bad weather delayed them. Then it was too late — war with Britain was coming, and Napoleon decided to sell. If those troops had arrived, Mikaberidze argues, France might have retained effective control of southern Louisiana, cultivated alliances with Native nations (as it historically had), and used those alliances to constrain American expansion inland. Without the Louisiana hinterland, the American republic might have been a prosperous but regionally limited power, strong in New England and the Northeast but denied the continental reach that made it a superpower.
 
•       Croissants in Kansas, Tacos in Oklahoma: The Counterfactual Continents: Andrew’s closing question: what would July 4 look like in Kansas and Oklahoma if the purchase hadn’t happened? Mikaberidze’s answer: French Louisiana, Spanish Texas, and Native-controlled hinterlands are all in play. The people of Kansas might indeed be celebrating with croissants rather than hot dogs. Mikaberidze adds: or tacos. Almost certainly more tacos and moles, given the Spanish and ultimately Mexican influence that would have prevailed across most of the continent. The American empire of liberty, in this alternative timeline, stops somewhere in the middle of what is now Missouri.
 
About the Guest
 
Alexander Mikaberidze is Professor of History and the Ruth Herring Noel Endowed Chair at Louisiana State University-Shreveport. He is the author of The Louisiana Purchase: The Grand Bargain and the Making of America (Oxford University Press, July 3, 2026) and more than two dozen other books, including Kutuzov: A Life in War and Peace (Oxford, 2022) and The Napoleonic Wars: A Global History (Oxford, 2020), both winners of the Society for Military History’s Distinguished Book Award and the Gilder-Lehrman Military History Prize. He was born in Georgia (the Caucasus) and has lived in Shreveport, Louisiana for twenty-six years.
 
References:
 
•       The Louisiana Purchase: The Grand Bargain and the Making of America by Alexander Mikaberidze (Oxford University Press, July 3, 2026). Part of the Pivotal Moments in American History series.
 
•       Craig Fuhrman, The Vast Enterprise — referenced by Mikaberidze as a new reassessment of Lewis and Clark’s expedition.
 
•       Jedediah Morse (1789) — the geographer who wrote of “American Empire” with a western boundary at the Pacific, referenced in the Monroe Doctrine discussion.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 3,000 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolif...

“There’s a kind of exhaustion and resentment — maybe sometimes feeling a little foolish about still feeling attached to some idea of this country that seems like it’s maybe not holding that strong or that healthy anymore.” — Christopher Hooks
 
Happy fucking birthday, America. No, not my tasteless language. These words adorn the cover of the July 2026 issue of the 175-year-old Harper’s, America’s oldest monthly publication. From one alter kocker to another. It’s no fun getting old.
 
The Harper’s piece, written by the Texas-based journalist Christopher Hooks, is a funereal essay about his travels around an exhausted America. It began as a reported account of America250 — the bipartisan commission set up in 2015–2016, at the end of the Obama era, to organise the semiquincentennial celebrations. Bipartisan? Internal bureaucratic dysfunction. Disagreements about purpose. Trumpian lawsuits. NDAs. Blah, blah, blah. Hooks found it demoralising. The landscape of Washington DC, he writes mournfully, is didactic and insistent. Some alter kocker is always trying to teach you something.
 
But some people do, indeed, have something to teach us. Hooks’ piece ends with Thaddeus Stevens — the club-footed, cranky, ugly radical Republican congressman who was born a few years after the Constitution was ratified. Stevens spent most of his long life believing in perfect racial and ethnic equality, helped frame the 14th Amendment as a second founding father, and died deeply disappointed. And, of course, that disappointment would only be compounded if he could see what Christopher Hooks saw in his recent trip around the contemporary United States.
 
Dear America — happy fucking birthday. Love, uncle Thaddeus.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Happy Fucking Birthday: The Title, the Feeling, and the Cover of Harper’s: Hooks’ editor at Harper’s came up with the title. Hooks is glad they did. It matches the feeling: exhaustion, resentment, and a kind of embarrassment at still feeling attached to an idea of America that seems like it’s not holding together. His father — a Republican for most of his life until 2016 — wakes up every morning and has to deal with the fact that America is maybe not the thing he thought it was. He feels humiliated. His son does too. Nobody likes to be fooled. And part of the unique indignity of the Trump era is the delight Trump and his people take in rubbing the noses of liberals in the abuse of American symbols.
 
•       The America250 Commission: Dysfunction, Lawsuits, and a Startup Fund: America250 was a bipartisan commission set up at the end of the Obama era to organise the semiquincentennial celebrations. By the time Hooks arrived at their press briefing, they had survived internal dysfunction, disagreements about purpose, lawsuits, and NDAs. Trump’s people had been brought in; fighting followed. Their proudest achievement: a venture capital seed fund to help American college students start companies, as a way of repairing the lack of patriotism polling says younger Americans feel. It felt to Hooks like it came from a past political moment — discredited and distant. He came out of the briefing dispirited.
 
•       The History of Semiquincentennials: 1876 Had Juice, 1976 Had Amnesia: Milestone commemorations have usually been emotionally complicated. 1926 was a disaster. 1976 — at the end of Vietnam and after Watergate — surprised many by producing an unexpected wave of patriotic sentiment that washed away, at least for a day, the gnawing doubts. That amnesia helped make possible both Jimmy Carter and the Reagan revolution. But the moment of maximum danger had passed by then. The one commemoration that had genuine juice, in Hooks’ view, was 1876 — the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, a world’s fair that was a genuine moment of national energy. The 250th is not that.
 
•       Thaddeus Stevens: The Honest Version of America’s Story: Hooks ends his piece with Thaddeus Stevens — the radical Republican congressman, club-footed, cranky, and widely described as ugly by his contemporaries. Born a few years after the Constitution was ratified. Believed in perfect racial and ethnic equality when almost no one else did. Helped frame the 14th Amendment as a second founding father of American democracy. Died deeply disappointed. His story, Hooks suggests, is the most honest version of how to be attached to America: feeling profound anger about the country as it is, working for something better, not living to see it, and laying the groundwork for what comes after.
 
•       Not Going to a Sanctioned Celebration Zone: Hooks will spend July 4 in New York, having a few beers with friends. Probably not going to a sanctioned celebration zone. Not setting off fireworks. His father will be in Texas, doing roughly the same. Both men share what Hooks calls a feeling of humiliation — a sense that they were fooled about what America was, and that the process of reckoning with that is long and ongoing. The Gilded Age was also pretty bleak, Hooks notes, and in time it was replaced by the progressive era and the New Deal. American history swings in big pendulum arcs. He wants to have hope. Some days it’s easier than others.
 
About the Guest
 
Christopher Hooks is a journalist who writes about Texas politics for Texas Monthly and national politics for Harper’s Magazine, The New Republic, and others. He divides his time between Austin, Texas and Brooklyn, New York. His piece “Happy Fucking Birthday: An Exhausted America Turns Two Hundred and Fifty,” is the cover story of the July 2026 issue of Harper’s Magazine.
 
References:
 
•       “Happy Fucking Birthday: An Exhausted America Turns Two Hundred and Fifty” by Christopher Hooks, Harper’s Magazine, July 2026.
 
•       Ben Fountain, Rasputin Swims the Potomac — referenced at the opening; recent KOA guest.
 
•       Peter Wehner, “The Apotheosis of Donald Trump,” The Atlantic, June 14, 2026 — referenced; recent KOA guest.
 
•       Thaddeus Stevens (1792–1868) — radical Republican congressman, abolitionist, framer of the 14th Amendment.
 
•       America250 — the federal commission organising the US semiquincentennial celebrations.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of ...

“The second law of thermodynamics is not to be negotiated with.” — Thomas S. Mullaney
 
The second law of thermodynamics is non-negotiable. The universe will end. Every human being dies. Everything decays and every record disintegrates. So why record history? Why bother remembering? These are the questions that the Stanford historian Thomas S. Mullaney addresses in his intriguing new book, How We Disappear: A Personal History of Information.
 
How We Disappear is triggered by grief. Mullaney’s father — a man he never fully understood, an exile in an estranged household — died unexpectedly in 2017. Sitting in his father’s office surrounded by the “paperwork of death,” Mullaney’s training as a historian crystallised into an all-too-personal project of disappearance. It’s a book about what Mullaney calls “intransitive disappearance” — not the spectacular, cataclysmic kind of traditional historiography (wars, book burnings, genocide) but the everyday, uneventful ways things fall apart. Like Thomas Mullaney’s dad. Existence as obsolescence, erosion, sinescence and the slow drift of the unremarkable into nothing.
 
History, in Mullaney’s account, is a Sisyphean fight against this nothingness. We tell stories to survive and maintain the polite appearance of coherence. If you actually tried to reconstruct experience — the thing-in-itself — you would need an infinite library of trillion-page books. Existence, for Mullaney, is a swirl of stimuli and daydream. History tries to domesticate this Borgesian swirl. So does consciousness itself. That’s why, as Mullaney memorably puts it, “historians do the dirty work of necromancers.” Which is to say they try to negotiate with the second law of thermodynamics.
 
Five Takeaways
 
•       Intransitive Disappearance: The Everyday Way Things Fall Apart: Mullaney’s central concept: intransitive disappearance. Not the spectacular, cataclysmic kind — book burnings, genocide, the destruction of the Library of Alexandria — but the everyday, drifty, uneventful ways things disintegrate. Obsolescence. Erosion. Sinescence. The unremarkable drift of the unremarkable into nothing. He became obsessed with these forms of disappearance — a pack rat across every discipline he could think of — for twenty-five years. His father’s unexpected death in 2017, sitting in his father’s office amid the paperwork of death, crystallised what had been inchoate into a book.
 
•       History as Domesticated Experience: The Trillion-Page Book: If you tried to actually reconstruct experience — the actual thing, unfiltered — you would need a trillion-page book that would make Naked Lunch look like a kindergarten primer. You’d have to say how many hairs were on his head; whether he favoured his left foot over his right; the scent of his aftershave. Experience, unfiltered, is an n-dimensional vortex of stimuli and daydream. Anytime you read a work of history, you are reading experience that has been domesticated into narrative — with turning points, main characters, thematic arguments. Historians know this. Every practising historian knows that the ideal of reconstructing human experience can never be reached.
 
•       The Vocal Defence of History: Why Do It If You Know It’s Impossible? Mullaney’s answer to the subversive question: history is just the professional counterpart of what every human being does every second of their existence. You, right now, telling yourself the story of your experience, are already well into postproduction. Your experience of being a person in a chair talking to another person on a couch — that is already domesticated. Human beings need to tell stories to live, to maintain continuity, to maintain coherence. Historians do the same thing under certain rules and protocols. The futility of history is the futility of consciousness itself. Neither is a reason not to try.
 
•       The Second Law of Thermodynamics Is Not to Be Negotiated With: The universe will end. Every human being dies. Everything we create decays. Every record disintegrates. Mullaney is unsparing about this. He is also, in his strange way, cheerful about it: we don’t need to last forever to have meant something. The meaning is not in the permanence. It is in the making. He would like the Silicon Valley immortality seekers — Kurzweil, the others, all those negotiating with thermodynamics from Palo Alto — to read the book, to face the facts, and then to find the alternative: rejoining physical reality and finding very deep meaning in that.
 
•       AI Bots of Deceased Parents: Stop: Andrew raises the obvious question: what would Mullaney say to the people in Palo Alto building AI bots of your deceased mother and father, so they can exist forever for your children and grandchildren? Mullaney’s answer is one word: stop. Human beings do not have the wetware — the biological critical apparatus — to maintain distance from a deep fake of their deceased parent. It short-circuits us. It bypasses our limitations. He cannot fathom, outside of very specific, closely monitored therapeutic settings, an argument in which this is a good idea. Paul Postman’s phrase: we are amusing ourselves to death. And there is very little critical reflection coming out of the neighbourhoods where this stuff is being made.
 
About the Guest
 
Thomas S. Mullaney is Professor of History at Stanford University, a Guggenheim Fellow, and the former Kluge Chair in Technology and Society at the Library of Congress. He is the author of How We Disappear: A Personal History of Information (W. W. Norton, June 23, 2026) and four previous books on Chinese history and technology, including The Chinese Typewriter: A History (winner of multiple awards). He lives in Palo Alto, California.
 
References:
 
•       How We Disappear: A Personal History of Information by Thomas S. Mullaney (W. W. Norton, June 23, 2026).
 
•       Jorge Luis Borges — referenced; the infinite library, the map that equals the terrain.
 
•       Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves to Death — referenced in the closing discussion on AI and human limitations.
 
•       Kara Swisher — referenced for her CNN series on Silicon Valley immortality seekers.
 
•       Ray Kurzweil — referenced as an exemplar of tech-utopian immortality thinking.
 
About Keen On America
 
Nobody asks more awkward questions than the Anglo-American writer and filmmaker Andrew Keen. In Keen On America, Andrew brings his pointed Transatlantic wit to making sense of the United States — hosting daily interviews about the history and future of this now venerable Republic. With nearly 3,000 episodes since the show launched on TechCrunch in 2010, Keen On America is the most prolific intellectual interview show in the history of podcasting.