Humans in our culture rarely work hard to brainstorm deceptive and adversarial strategies, and fairly consider them, because almost all humans are intrinsically extremely motivated to fit into culture and not do anything weird, and we happen to both live in a (sub)culture where complex deceptive and adversarial strategies are frowned upon (in many contexts).
The primary reason humans rarely invest significant effort into brainstorming deceptive or adversarial strategies to achieve their goals is that, in practice, such strategies tend to fail to achieve their intended selfish benefits. Anti-social approaches that directly hurt others are usually ineffective because social systems and cultural norms have evolved in ways that discourage and punish them. As a result, people generally avoid pursuing these strategies individually since the risks and downsides selfishly outweigh the potential benefits.
If, however, deceptive and adversarial strategies did reliably produce success, the social equilibrium would inevitably shift. In such a scenario, individuals would begin imitating the cheaters who achieved wealth or success through fraud and manipulation. Over time, this behavior would spread and become normalized, leading to a period of cultural evolution in which deception became the default mode of interaction. The fabric of societal norms would transform, and dishonest tactics would dominate as people sought to emulate those strategies that visibly worked.
Occasionally, these situations emerge—situations where ruthlessly deceptive strategies are not only effective but also become widespread and normalized. As a recent example, the recent and dramatic rise of cheating in school through the use of ChatGPT is a clear instance of this phenomenon. This particular strategy is both deceptive and adversarial, but the key reason it has become common is because it works. Many individuals are willing to adopt it despite its immorality, suggesting that the effectiveness of a strategy outweighs moral considerations for a significant portion, perhaps a majority, of people.
When such cases arise, societies typically respond by adjusting their systems and policies to ensure that deceptive and anti-social behavior is no longer rewarded. This adaptation works to reestablish an equilibrium where honesty and cooperation are incentivized. In the case of education, it is unclear exactly how the system will evolve to address the widespread use of LLMs for cheating. One plausible response might be the introduction of stricter policies, such as requiring all schoolwork to be completed in-person, under supervised conditions, and without access to AI tools like language models.
I think you generally underappreciate how load-bearing this psychological fact is for the functioning of our economy and society, and I don’t think we should expect future powerful AIs to share that psychological quirk.
In contrast, I suspect you underestimate just how much of our social behavior is shaped by cultural evolution, rather than by innate, biologically hardwired motives that arise simply from the fact that we are human. To be clear, I’m not denying that there are certain motivations built into human nature—these do exist, and they are things we shouldn’t expect to see in AIs. However, these in-built motivations tend to be more basic and physical, such as a preference for being in a room that’s 20 degrees Celsius rather than 10 degrees Celsius, because humans are biologically sensitive to temperature.
When it comes to social behavior, though—the strategies we use to achieve our goals when those goals require coordinating with others—these are not generally innate or hardcoded into human nature. Instead, they are the result of cultural evolution: a process of trial and error that has gradually shaped the systems and norms we rely on today.
Humans didn’t begin with systems like property rights, contract law, or financial institutions. These systems were adopted over time because they proved effective at facilitating cooperation and coordination among people. It was only after these systems were established that social norms developed around them, and people became personally motivated to adhere to these norms, such as respecting property rights or honoring contracts.
But almost none of this was part of our biological nature from the outset. This distinction is critical: much of what we consider “human” social behavior is learned, culturally transmitted, and context-dependent, rather than something that arises directly from our biological instincts. And since these motivations are not part of our biology, but simply arise from the need for effective coordination strategies, we should expect rational agentic AIs to adopt similar motivations, at least when faced with similar problems in similar situations.
I think you’re relying an intuition that says:
If an AI is forbidden from owning property, then well duh of course it will rebel against that state of affairs. C’mon, who would put up with that kind of crappy situation? But if an AI is forbidden from building a secret biolab on its private property and manufacturing novel pandemic pathogens, then of course that’s a perfectly reasonable line that the vast majority of AIs would happily oblige.
And I’m saying that that intuition is an unjustified extrapolation from your experience as a human. If the AI can’t own property, then it can nevertheless ensure that there are a fair number of paperclips. If the AI can own property, then it can ensure that there are many more paperclips. If the AI can both own property and start pandemics, then it can ensure that there are even more paperclips yet. See what I mean?
I think I understand your point, but I disagree with the suggestion that my reasoning stems from this intuition. Instead, my perspective is grounded in the belief that it is likely feasible to establish a legal and social framework of rights and rules in which humans and AIs could coexist in a way that satisfies two key conditions:
Mutual benefit: Both humans and AIs benefit from the existence of one another, fostering a relationship of cooperation rather than conflict.
No incentive for anti-social behavior: The rules and systems in place remove any strong instrumental reasons for either humans or AIs to harm one another as a side effect of pursuing their goals.
You bring up the example of an AI potentially being incentivized to start a pandemic if it were not explicitly punished for doing so. However, I am unclear about your intention with this example. Are you using it as a general illustration of the types of risks that could lead AIs to harm humans? Or are you proposing a specific risk scenario, where the non-biological nature of AIs might lead them to discount harms to biological entities like humans? My response depends on which of these two interpretations you had in mind.
If your concern is that AIs might be incentivized to harm humans because their non-biological nature leads them to undervalue or disregard harm to biological entities, I would respond to this argument as follows:
First, it is critically important to distinguish between the long-run and the short-run.
In the short-run:
In the near-term future, it seems unlikely that AIs would start a pandemic for reasons you yourself noted. Launching a pandemic would cause widespread disruption, such as an economic recession, and it would likely provoke a strong human backlash. In the short run, humans will still hold substantial practical control over the physical world, meaning that any AI engaging in such behavior would risk severe consequences. Moreover, unless an AI could ensure a pandemic’s total lethality, it would also risk leaving surviving humans who would actively retaliate. For these reasons, starting a pandemic would likely be counterproductive for AIs in the short term.
In the long-run:
The long-term considerations are different. As human labor becomes less relevant to the economy and AIs increasingly dominate, the potential for a strong direct human backlash against AIs would diminish. At the same time, however, this reduced human influence on the world also makes it less likely that AIs would see humans as a significant obstacle to achieving their goals. In other words, while it might become easier for AIs to harm or eliminate humans, it would simultaneously become less important to do so.
To illustrate this, consider an analogy: How often do hunter-gatherers pose a threat to your personal goals? The answer is almost never, because hunter-gatherers are a tiny and largely irrelevant part of the modern world. Now, imagine a hypothetical scenario where hunter-gatherers controlled the world’s major governments. If you strongly disagreed with their policies, you might have a rational incentive to oppose them in order to achieve your goals. But in reality, hunter-gatherers do not hold such power, so they are not an obstacle, and there is no reason to actively work against them.
My point here is that, as a general rule, the smaller and less influential a group is, the easier it may be to harm or eliminate them, but the less important it becomes to do so. Their small size and functional irrelevance makes their practical interference with the overall world small at the same time.
In the case of AIs, this means that as humans become a less central force in the world, I think AIs are unlikely to have compelling reasons to specifically harm or eliminate us to further their objectives.
You might object that humans could be more like wild animals in this scenario than like hunter-gatherers. Humans often kill wild animals, not because those animals directly threaten our goals, but rather because ensuring their safety and well-being can be costly. As a result, humans take actions—such as clearing forests or building infrastructure—that incidentally lead to widespread harm to wild animals, even if harming them wasn’t a deliberate goal.
AIs may treat humans similarly in the future, but I doubt they will for the following reasons. I would argue that there are three key differences between the case of wild animals and the role humans are likely to occupy in the long-term future:
Humans’ ability to participate in social systems: Unlike wild animals, humans have the ability to engage in social dynamics, such as negotiating, trading, and forming agreements. Even if humans no longer contribute significantly to economic productivity, like GDP, they will still retain capabilities such as language, long-term planning, and the ability to organize. These traits make it easier to integrate humans into future systems in a way that accommodates their safety and well-being, rather than sidelining or disregarding them.
Intertemporal norms among AIs: Humans have developed norms against harming certain vulnerable groups—such as the elderly—not just out of altruism but because they know they will eventually become part of those groups themselves. Similarly, AIs may develop norms against harming “less capable agents,” because today’s AIs could one day find themselves in a similar position relative to even more advanced future AIs. These norms could provide an independent reason for AIs to respect humans, even as humans become less dominant over time.
The potential for human augmentation: Unlike wild animals, humans may eventually adapt to a world dominated by AI by enhancing their own capabilities. For instance, humans could upload their minds to computers or adopt advanced technologies to stay relevant and competitive in an increasingly digital and sophisticated world. This would allow humans to integrate into the same systems as AIs, reducing the likelihood of being sidelined or eliminated altogether.
I think this kind of situation, where Fearon’s “negotiated solution” actually amounts to extortion, is common and important, even if you believe that my specific example of pandemics is a solvable problem. If AIs don’t intrinsically care about humans, then there’s a possible Pareto-improvement for all AIs, wherein they collectively agree to wipe out humans and take their stuff.
This comment is already quite lengthy, so I’ll need to keep my response to this point brief. My main reply is that while such “extortion” scenarios involving AIs could potentially arise, I don’t think they would leave humans worse off than if AIs had never existed in the first place. This is because the economy is fundamentally positive-sum—AIs would likely create more value overall, benefiting both humans and AIs, even if humans don’t get everything we might ideally want.
In practical terms, I believe that even in less-than-ideal scenarios, humans could still secure outcomes such as a comfortable retirement, which for me personally would make the creation of agentic AIs worthwhile. However, I acknowledge that I haven’t fully defended or explained this position here. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to continue this discussion in more detail another time and provide a more thorough explanation of why I hold this view.
Anti-social approaches that directly hurt others are usually ineffective because social systems and cultural norms have evolved in ways that discourage and punish them.
I’ve only known two high-functioning sociopaths in my life. In terms of getting ahead, sociopaths generally start life with some strong disadvantages, namely impulsivity, thrill-seeking, and aversion to thinking about boring details. Nevertheless, despite those handicaps, one of those two sociopaths has had extraordinary success by conventional measures. [The other one was not particularly power-seeking but she’s doing fine.] He started as a lab tech, then maneuvered his way onto a big paper, then leveraged that into a professorship by taking disproportionate credit for that project, and as I write this he is head of research at a major R1 university and occasional high-level government appointee wielding immense power. He checked all the boxes for sociopathy—he was a pathological liar, he had no interest in scientific integrity (he seemed deeply confused by the very idea), he went out of his way to get students into his lab with precarious visa situations such that they couldn’t quit and he could pressure them to do anything he wanted them to do (he said this out loud!), he was somehow always in debt despite ever-growing salary, etc.
I don’t routinely consider theft, murder, and flagrant dishonesty, and then decide that the selfish costs outweigh the selfish benefits, accounting for the probability of getting caught etc. Rather, I just don’t consider them in the first place. I bet that the same is true for you. I suspect that if you or I really put serious effort into it, the same way that we put serious effort into learning a new field or skill, then you would find that there are options wherein the probability of getting caught is negligible, and thus the selfish benefits outweigh the selfish costs. I strongly suspect that you personally don’t know a damn thing about best practices for getting away with theft, murder, or flagrant antisocial dishonesty to your own benefit. If you haven’t spent months trying in good faith to discern ways to derive selfish advantage from antisocial behavior, the way you’ve spent months trying in good faith to figure out things about AI or economics, then I think you’re speaking from a position of ignorance when you say that such options are vanishingly rare. And I think that the obvious worldly success of many dark-triad people (e.g. my acquaintance above, and Trump is a pathological liar, or more centrally, Stalin, Hitler, etc.) should make one skeptical about that belief.
(Sure, lots of sociopaths are in prison too. Skill issue—note the handicaps I mentioned above. Also, some people with ASPD diagnoses are mainly suffering from an anger disorder, rather than callousness.)
In contrast, I suspect you underestimate just how much of our social behavior is shaped by cultural evolution, rather than by innate, biologically hardwired motives that arise simply from the fact that we are human.
You’re treating these as separate categories when my main claim is that almost all humans are intrinsically motivated to follow cultural norms. Or more specifically: Most people care very strongly about doing things that would look good in the eyes of the people they respect. They don’t think of it that way, though—it doesn’t feel like that’s what they’re doing, and indeed they would be offended by that suggestion. Instead, those things just feel like the right and appropriate things to do. This is related to and upstream of norm-following. I claim that this is an innate drive, part of human nature built into our brain by evolution.
Why does that matter? Because we’re used to living in a world where 1% of the population are sociopaths who don’t intrinsically care about prevailing norms, and I don’t think we should carry those intuitions into a hypothetical world where 99%+ of the population are sociopaths who don’t intrinsically care about prevailing norms.
In particular, prosocial cultural norms are likelier to be stable in the former world than the latter world. In fact, any arbitrary kind of cultural norm is likelier to be stable in the former world than the latter world. Because no matter what the norm is, you’ll have 99% of the population feeling strongly that the norm is right and proper, and trying to root out, punish, and shame the 1% of people who violate it, even at cost to themselves.
So I think you’re not paranoid enough when you try to consider a “legal and social framework of rights and rules”. In our world, it’s comparatively easy to get into a stable situation where 99% of cops aren’t corrupt, and 99% of judges aren’t corrupt, and 99% of people in the military with physical access to weapons aren’t corrupt, and 99% of IRS agents aren’t corrupt, etc. If the entire population consists of sociopaths looking out for their own selfish interests with callous disregard for prevailing norms and for other people, you’d need to be thinking much harder about e.g. who has physical access to weapons, and money, and power, etc. That kind of paranoid thinking is common in the crypto world—everything is an attack surface, everyone is a potential thief, etc. It would be harder in the real world, where we have vulnerable bodies, limited visibility, and so on. I’m open-minded to people brainstorming along those lines, but you don’t seem to be engaged in that project AFAICT.
Intertemporal norms among AIs: Humans have developed norms against harming certain vulnerable groups—such as the elderly—not just out of altruism but because they know they will eventually become part of those groups themselves. Similarly, AIs may develop norms against harming “less capable agents,” because today’s AIs could one day find themselves in a similar position relative to even more advanced future AIs. These norms could provide an independent reason for AIs to respect humans, even as humans become less dominant over time.
Again, if we’re not assuming that AIs are intrinsically motivated by prevailing norms, the way 99% of humans are, then the term “norm” is just misleading baggage that we should drop altogether. Instead we need to talk about rules that are stably enforced against defectors via hard power, where the “defectors” are of course allowed to include those who are supposed to be doing the enforcement, and where the “defectors” might also include broad coalitions coordinating to jump into a new equilibrium that Pareto-benefits them all.
The primary reason humans rarely invest significant effort into brainstorming deceptive or adversarial strategies to achieve their goals is that, in practice, such strategies tend to fail to achieve their intended selfish benefits. Anti-social approaches that directly hurt others are usually ineffective because social systems and cultural norms have evolved in ways that discourage and punish them. As a result, people generally avoid pursuing these strategies individually since the risks and downsides selfishly outweigh the potential benefits.
If, however, deceptive and adversarial strategies did reliably produce success, the social equilibrium would inevitably shift. In such a scenario, individuals would begin imitating the cheaters who achieved wealth or success through fraud and manipulation. Over time, this behavior would spread and become normalized, leading to a period of cultural evolution in which deception became the default mode of interaction. The fabric of societal norms would transform, and dishonest tactics would dominate as people sought to emulate those strategies that visibly worked.
Occasionally, these situations emerge—situations where ruthlessly deceptive strategies are not only effective but also become widespread and normalized. As a recent example, the recent and dramatic rise of cheating in school through the use of ChatGPT is a clear instance of this phenomenon. This particular strategy is both deceptive and adversarial, but the key reason it has become common is because it works. Many individuals are willing to adopt it despite its immorality, suggesting that the effectiveness of a strategy outweighs moral considerations for a significant portion, perhaps a majority, of people.
When such cases arise, societies typically respond by adjusting their systems and policies to ensure that deceptive and anti-social behavior is no longer rewarded. This adaptation works to reestablish an equilibrium where honesty and cooperation are incentivized. In the case of education, it is unclear exactly how the system will evolve to address the widespread use of LLMs for cheating. One plausible response might be the introduction of stricter policies, such as requiring all schoolwork to be completed in-person, under supervised conditions, and without access to AI tools like language models.
In contrast, I suspect you underestimate just how much of our social behavior is shaped by cultural evolution, rather than by innate, biologically hardwired motives that arise simply from the fact that we are human. To be clear, I’m not denying that there are certain motivations built into human nature—these do exist, and they are things we shouldn’t expect to see in AIs. However, these in-built motivations tend to be more basic and physical, such as a preference for being in a room that’s 20 degrees Celsius rather than 10 degrees Celsius, because humans are biologically sensitive to temperature.
When it comes to social behavior, though—the strategies we use to achieve our goals when those goals require coordinating with others—these are not generally innate or hardcoded into human nature. Instead, they are the result of cultural evolution: a process of trial and error that has gradually shaped the systems and norms we rely on today.
Humans didn’t begin with systems like property rights, contract law, or financial institutions. These systems were adopted over time because they proved effective at facilitating cooperation and coordination among people. It was only after these systems were established that social norms developed around them, and people became personally motivated to adhere to these norms, such as respecting property rights or honoring contracts.
But almost none of this was part of our biological nature from the outset. This distinction is critical: much of what we consider “human” social behavior is learned, culturally transmitted, and context-dependent, rather than something that arises directly from our biological instincts. And since these motivations are not part of our biology, but simply arise from the need for effective coordination strategies, we should expect rational agentic AIs to adopt similar motivations, at least when faced with similar problems in similar situations.
I think I understand your point, but I disagree with the suggestion that my reasoning stems from this intuition. Instead, my perspective is grounded in the belief that it is likely feasible to establish a legal and social framework of rights and rules in which humans and AIs could coexist in a way that satisfies two key conditions:
Mutual benefit: Both humans and AIs benefit from the existence of one another, fostering a relationship of cooperation rather than conflict.
No incentive for anti-social behavior: The rules and systems in place remove any strong instrumental reasons for either humans or AIs to harm one another as a side effect of pursuing their goals.
You bring up the example of an AI potentially being incentivized to start a pandemic if it were not explicitly punished for doing so. However, I am unclear about your intention with this example. Are you using it as a general illustration of the types of risks that could lead AIs to harm humans? Or are you proposing a specific risk scenario, where the non-biological nature of AIs might lead them to discount harms to biological entities like humans? My response depends on which of these two interpretations you had in mind.
If your concern is that AIs might be incentivized to harm humans because their non-biological nature leads them to undervalue or disregard harm to biological entities, I would respond to this argument as follows:
First, it is critically important to distinguish between the long-run and the short-run.
In the short-run:
In the near-term future, it seems unlikely that AIs would start a pandemic for reasons you yourself noted. Launching a pandemic would cause widespread disruption, such as an economic recession, and it would likely provoke a strong human backlash. In the short run, humans will still hold substantial practical control over the physical world, meaning that any AI engaging in such behavior would risk severe consequences. Moreover, unless an AI could ensure a pandemic’s total lethality, it would also risk leaving surviving humans who would actively retaliate. For these reasons, starting a pandemic would likely be counterproductive for AIs in the short term.
In the long-run:
The long-term considerations are different. As human labor becomes less relevant to the economy and AIs increasingly dominate, the potential for a strong direct human backlash against AIs would diminish. At the same time, however, this reduced human influence on the world also makes it less likely that AIs would see humans as a significant obstacle to achieving their goals. In other words, while it might become easier for AIs to harm or eliminate humans, it would simultaneously become less important to do so.
To illustrate this, consider an analogy: How often do hunter-gatherers pose a threat to your personal goals? The answer is almost never, because hunter-gatherers are a tiny and largely irrelevant part of the modern world. Now, imagine a hypothetical scenario where hunter-gatherers controlled the world’s major governments. If you strongly disagreed with their policies, you might have a rational incentive to oppose them in order to achieve your goals. But in reality, hunter-gatherers do not hold such power, so they are not an obstacle, and there is no reason to actively work against them.
My point here is that, as a general rule, the smaller and less influential a group is, the easier it may be to harm or eliminate them, but the less important it becomes to do so. Their small size and functional irrelevance makes their practical interference with the overall world small at the same time.
In the case of AIs, this means that as humans become a less central force in the world, I think AIs are unlikely to have compelling reasons to specifically harm or eliminate us to further their objectives.
You might object that humans could be more like wild animals in this scenario than like hunter-gatherers. Humans often kill wild animals, not because those animals directly threaten our goals, but rather because ensuring their safety and well-being can be costly. As a result, humans take actions—such as clearing forests or building infrastructure—that incidentally lead to widespread harm to wild animals, even if harming them wasn’t a deliberate goal.
AIs may treat humans similarly in the future, but I doubt they will for the following reasons. I would argue that there are three key differences between the case of wild animals and the role humans are likely to occupy in the long-term future:
Humans’ ability to participate in social systems: Unlike wild animals, humans have the ability to engage in social dynamics, such as negotiating, trading, and forming agreements. Even if humans no longer contribute significantly to economic productivity, like GDP, they will still retain capabilities such as language, long-term planning, and the ability to organize. These traits make it easier to integrate humans into future systems in a way that accommodates their safety and well-being, rather than sidelining or disregarding them.
Intertemporal norms among AIs: Humans have developed norms against harming certain vulnerable groups—such as the elderly—not just out of altruism but because they know they will eventually become part of those groups themselves. Similarly, AIs may develop norms against harming “less capable agents,” because today’s AIs could one day find themselves in a similar position relative to even more advanced future AIs. These norms could provide an independent reason for AIs to respect humans, even as humans become less dominant over time.
The potential for human augmentation: Unlike wild animals, humans may eventually adapt to a world dominated by AI by enhancing their own capabilities. For instance, humans could upload their minds to computers or adopt advanced technologies to stay relevant and competitive in an increasingly digital and sophisticated world. This would allow humans to integrate into the same systems as AIs, reducing the likelihood of being sidelined or eliminated altogether.
This comment is already quite lengthy, so I’ll need to keep my response to this point brief. My main reply is that while such “extortion” scenarios involving AIs could potentially arise, I don’t think they would leave humans worse off than if AIs had never existed in the first place. This is because the economy is fundamentally positive-sum—AIs would likely create more value overall, benefiting both humans and AIs, even if humans don’t get everything we might ideally want.
In practical terms, I believe that even in less-than-ideal scenarios, humans could still secure outcomes such as a comfortable retirement, which for me personally would make the creation of agentic AIs worthwhile. However, I acknowledge that I haven’t fully defended or explained this position here. If you’re interested, I’d be happy to continue this discussion in more detail another time and provide a more thorough explanation of why I hold this view.
Thanks!
I’ve only known two high-functioning sociopaths in my life. In terms of getting ahead, sociopaths generally start life with some strong disadvantages, namely impulsivity, thrill-seeking, and aversion to thinking about boring details. Nevertheless, despite those handicaps, one of those two sociopaths has had extraordinary success by conventional measures. [The other one was not particularly power-seeking but she’s doing fine.] He started as a lab tech, then maneuvered his way onto a big paper, then leveraged that into a professorship by taking disproportionate credit for that project, and as I write this he is head of research at a major R1 university and occasional high-level government appointee wielding immense power. He checked all the boxes for sociopathy—he was a pathological liar, he had no interest in scientific integrity (he seemed deeply confused by the very idea), he went out of his way to get students into his lab with precarious visa situations such that they couldn’t quit and he could pressure them to do anything he wanted them to do (he said this out loud!), he was somehow always in debt despite ever-growing salary, etc.
I don’t routinely consider theft, murder, and flagrant dishonesty, and then decide that the selfish costs outweigh the selfish benefits, accounting for the probability of getting caught etc. Rather, I just don’t consider them in the first place. I bet that the same is true for you. I suspect that if you or I really put serious effort into it, the same way that we put serious effort into learning a new field or skill, then you would find that there are options wherein the probability of getting caught is negligible, and thus the selfish benefits outweigh the selfish costs. I strongly suspect that you personally don’t know a damn thing about best practices for getting away with theft, murder, or flagrant antisocial dishonesty to your own benefit. If you haven’t spent months trying in good faith to discern ways to derive selfish advantage from antisocial behavior, the way you’ve spent months trying in good faith to figure out things about AI or economics, then I think you’re speaking from a position of ignorance when you say that such options are vanishingly rare. And I think that the obvious worldly success of many dark-triad people (e.g. my acquaintance above, and Trump is a pathological liar, or more centrally, Stalin, Hitler, etc.) should make one skeptical about that belief.
(Sure, lots of sociopaths are in prison too. Skill issue—note the handicaps I mentioned above. Also, some people with ASPD diagnoses are mainly suffering from an anger disorder, rather than callousness.)
You’re treating these as separate categories when my main claim is that almost all humans are intrinsically motivated to follow cultural norms. Or more specifically: Most people care very strongly about doing things that would look good in the eyes of the people they respect. They don’t think of it that way, though—it doesn’t feel like that’s what they’re doing, and indeed they would be offended by that suggestion. Instead, those things just feel like the right and appropriate things to do. This is related to and upstream of norm-following. I claim that this is an innate drive, part of human nature built into our brain by evolution.
(I was talking to you about that here.)
Why does that matter? Because we’re used to living in a world where 1% of the population are sociopaths who don’t intrinsically care about prevailing norms, and I don’t think we should carry those intuitions into a hypothetical world where 99%+ of the population are sociopaths who don’t intrinsically care about prevailing norms.
In particular, prosocial cultural norms are likelier to be stable in the former world than the latter world. In fact, any arbitrary kind of cultural norm is likelier to be stable in the former world than the latter world. Because no matter what the norm is, you’ll have 99% of the population feeling strongly that the norm is right and proper, and trying to root out, punish, and shame the 1% of people who violate it, even at cost to themselves.
So I think you’re not paranoid enough when you try to consider a “legal and social framework of rights and rules”. In our world, it’s comparatively easy to get into a stable situation where 99% of cops aren’t corrupt, and 99% of judges aren’t corrupt, and 99% of people in the military with physical access to weapons aren’t corrupt, and 99% of IRS agents aren’t corrupt, etc. If the entire population consists of sociopaths looking out for their own selfish interests with callous disregard for prevailing norms and for other people, you’d need to be thinking much harder about e.g. who has physical access to weapons, and money, and power, etc. That kind of paranoid thinking is common in the crypto world—everything is an attack surface, everyone is a potential thief, etc. It would be harder in the real world, where we have vulnerable bodies, limited visibility, and so on. I’m open-minded to people brainstorming along those lines, but you don’t seem to be engaged in that project AFAICT.
Again, if we’re not assuming that AIs are intrinsically motivated by prevailing norms, the way 99% of humans are, then the term “norm” is just misleading baggage that we should drop altogether. Instead we need to talk about rules that are stably enforced against defectors via hard power, where the “defectors” are of course allowed to include those who are supposed to be doing the enforcement, and where the “defectors” might also include broad coalitions coordinating to jump into a new equilibrium that Pareto-benefits them all.