Can AI Make a Country Great Again?

Much recent commentary on artificial intelligence (AI) has focused on the prospect of a company or a country winning a race for artificial general intelligence (AGI) or more-than-human “superintelligence.” However, that goal, which seems rather more religious than technological, is both elusive and, should it ever be achieved, fragile (see SIGnal, “Mutual Assured Malfunction,” March 13, 2025). Investors are focusing instead on “little tech” and firm-level or industry-level AI that uses specific data sets to engineer specific productivity gains. In SIG’s view, this more modest course seems both economically more promising and politically much more sustainable. But it definitely does have risks of its own.

The appeal of “little tech” AI is partly that it leaves to one side the many serious questions about data privacy and other more existential matters that are posed by AGI. Smaller AI systems can run on the contained, often proprietary data sets involved in industrial processes, especially in manufacturing. The goal is not to replicate the human brain but to make industrial processes more efficient, raising productivity. It is a type of automation, using new technology yet still familiar enough from the history of industrial production.

With little-tech AI, startups can focus on specific problems whose solutions will provide a payoff in the relatively short term. In other words, AI would be monetizable. This has an obvious appeal not just to startup investors but also to industrial incumbents whose processes would be improved and whose productivity would be raised in competition with their rivals. Startups are not alone in this sphere. The German giant Siemens, for example, has put industrial AI at the core of its offering.

Politically, this approach to AI is much more appealing to most governments, only a few of which (the US, China) can have much hope of achieving global dominance by winning a race for AGI, at which point they might well regret getting what they wished for. Leaving aside the large question of AI data-center electricity demands, it offers the attractive prospect of raising productivity while reducing carbon use — because your factory in Texas, enhanced by AI, will no longer have to source so many of its components from East Asia, with all the carbon-using transport that entails. The little-AI approach also means states would not have to expose their citizens’ data to foreign tech multinationals, possibly based in hostile or overweening states, in order to participate in the later 21st century. That would be a gain for state sovereignty; and given that so many of the tensions around globalization have had to do with the way it threatens sovereignty and the democratic (or otherwise) accountability of governments to citizens, the little-AI approach could conceivably enhance global stability and the prospects for peace. Little AI, by improving productivity within a given national domestic workforce, could help states that are facing demographic stagnation — which is pretty much all industrialized states and many less-industrialized ones — to nonetheless grow on the basis of domestic labor (see SIGnal, “AI Family Values,” May 3, 2024). As Marc Andreessen and Ben Horowitz wrote in July 2024, “little tech” could make it possible “to reconstruct the American manufacturing sector around automation and AI, reshoring entire industries and creating millions of new middle class jobs” while also having green benefits. Technology could, in effect, provide the “labor” that would solve the biggest challenge facing President Trump’s vision of a more self-sufficient US: the lack of workers operating at a sufficient level of productivity (see SIGnal, “Trade Wars and US Labor,” April 11 2025).

Less carbon use, stabilization of the international sovereign-state system, a growing middle class, a renewal of rich-world domestic manufacturing but with higher wages and less grim manual work…What could possibly go wrong?

AI-enhanced production aimed at reshoring manufacturing to high-wage economies would square the circle of productivity growth and de-globalization. It would revive the pre-1975 global industrial status quo with the crucial addition of China (but not so much India or Southeast Asia). If you have the good fortune to live and work in a benefitting state, this would be a positive outcome. It could, however, also fuel techno-nationalism in the rich world (plus China) and make growth outside the AI-enhanced nations highly problematic. One key issue raised by the US-China struggle — a protected US market deprives non-American producers of consumers, while a protected Chinese economy, likewise deprived, dumps its production for the pre-tariffs US market onto the rest of the world’s economies — would be gravely worsened as the world’s two largest economies reduce their dependence on the rest of the world for both supply and demand.

AI-enhanced de-globalization could, in short, reverse the global redistribution of labor productivity that led to the greatest poverty reduction in human history. In theory, the gains from little AI could be more equally distributed. After all, the AI enhancements that would lift an underemployed person in Oklahoma or eastern Germany into the middle class of his or her domestic economy could do the same for a person in Nigeria or Thailand. But that outcome is not the goal for the people, states, and companies that are driving the growth in AI monetization. Their goal is nearly the opposite. For investors, the greatest gains will come from identifying companies and sectors best positioned to gain from AI-enhanced de-globalization.

A View From Europe

By Dee Smith

I recently returned from 6 weeks in Europe — Austria, Italy, Switzerland, and the United Kingdom. My trip coincided with the build-up to President Trump’s tariff announcement on “Liberation Day” and the reactions that followed it. The most interesting element of the trip was the evolution, or devolution, in views of the United States.

At the end of February, the attitude I first encountered was a mix of perplexity about the changes in the US and sadness that they were occurring. Even people who were disposed to dislike the US discovered that they had nonetheless kept within themselves a kind of hope based on belief in America and its distinctive experiment in democracy and freedom. Even with all its flaws the US seemed, so they said, to represent a possibility that humans might be better than we fear we are. One remark I heard summarized the attitude: “It seems that the lights have gone off in the shining city on the hill.” It was a sense of tragedy, almost of grief. Now, some said, they see that the U.S. is “just another country.”

But as the tariffs were imposed, this recessional mood changed. The attitude of heartache began palpably to transform into fear, and into anger. It was not as if the winds of change had not been blowing, and they knew that. There had, for example, been warning signs over the years that the US was pulling back militarily from Europe. And the Europeans were certainly aware of the fractures in US political structures, as in their own.

However, the tariffs were something different. The universality of them, the suddenness, and the way they were applied — with a chart apparently developed with the help of ChatGPT based on an arbitrary calculation — was disorienting, then frightening, and finally angering.

When the White House suddenly, and apparently temporarily, backed away from the tariffs soon after they were announced, it simply added confusion to the fear and anger around the entire issue and in many minds further undermined the stability of the US governance and financial system. “I really don’t know what to think” was a comment I heard more than once, sometimes followed by “but I’m angry.”

Although they may not have known what to think, they did know how they felt. People have cancelled trips to the US and taken other personally expensive measures, so off-putting have they found the developments.

There was still, amid the feelings of loss and anger, the wish that the old US would come back to something like what it was and an ember of hope that it might. But the dominant note was fear, driven by US actions but not only about them. People fear the Ukraine war continuing while they also fear it being settled: they fear Russia’s intentions once it is loosed from the constraints of fighting in Ukraine. They fear war in other hot spots: Iran, Taiwan, the Koreas. They fear the non-sustainability of their economic situation. They fear having to dial back their social support systems to increase their military budgets. They fear they will be outcompeted by other areas of the world. They fear for their supply chains. They fear more and larger waves of immigration from the Middle East and Africa, particularly if war escalates in the Middle East. They fear for the social and political stability of their countries. They fear unfair competition from China, and they fear what kinds of collusion China and Russia may be up to. And, as a constant, chronic theme, many fear the impact of climate change.

Europe is, like the rest of the world, in the midst of extraordinarily large transformations with unknown trajectories. The changes seem to have come on very suddenly, although of course they have not: there have been harbingers for years. The causes of the changes also elude many. That of course is for history to judge, but I did not find a single person who disagreed with the idea that fundamentally, beneath it all, lie broken promises. I have written about this previously, and will not go into any detail here, but people see that, although they played by the rules, the implied promises they believe were made by the political and economic system — that their children’s lives would be better than theirs, for example — have been irreparably broken.

Most surprising to me, I heard more than a few people in Europe, including investors and businesspeople, say quite seriously that they thought we were at the point of a very big change. And a number said the period between the end of the old and the beginning of the (unknown) new will be very tumultuous and dangerous.

Europe was the birthplace of the Enlightenment, and it was on Enlightenment ideas and ideals that not only the American system but also every system in Europe, and now far beyond, were based. Holding that the world is fundamentally comprehensible, the Enlightenment posited that humans make decisions rationally, in their own best interests, and thus that society can be rationally organized in a purposeful and predictable way. Not just democracy and capitalism, but socialism, Marxism, and communism are all based on different views of how to apply European Enlightenment ideas about organizing society rationally, purposefully, and predictably. Unfortunately, this rationalism simply does not seem to be an accurate take: we make our decisions emotionally.

So I found I was asking myself many times on this trip: if this whole superstructure of concepts does not in the end work — if it cannot work because of the nature of the drivers of human behavior — well . . . then what? That is the largely unspoken fear lying underneath all the other fears, perhaps not just in Europe.

Trade Wars and US Labor

Janan Ganesh at the Financial Times spoke for many when he said, “there are just too many contradictions in the Trump worldview to warrant any talk of a grand plan.” SIG’s view is that there is indeed a Trump strategy, it just does not have much to do with the world outside the United States. It is a strategy of maximal national self-sufficiency, with as much as possible made in the US — the American version of Xi Jinping’s strategy for China.  And as in China, the main challenges to the strategy have to do with the labor force.

Reversion to Mean

By Dee Smith

About a decade ago, we entered into a period of escalating social and political chaos, increasingly “hot” geopolitical conflict, and growing economic crises — a time that seems uncharacteristic given the previous decades. Unfortunately, the current period may represent a return to the norms of human history. The relatively peaceful, prosperous time we lived through may have been the deviation.

While not halcyon days, the 70 years after 1945 were a period in which great-power conflict was avoided, more than a billion people were lifted out of poverty, life expectancy — due to advances in sanitation, medicine, and living conditions — increased significantly, and norms regarding the value of human life changed dramatically. Murder, for example, was very common in most societies 200 years ago as a means of “solving problems.” Today, it is much less so.

The financial stability of recent decades was also new. There were no true global depressions, and highly disruptive events like sovereign defaults by major economies were absent. This was not true in the past.

Simply put, this relative economic stability was purchased by an overwhelming surfeit of debt. Two occasions on which this debt was used stand out: to rescue institutions deemed “too big to fail” in the financial crisis of 2008, and to stabilize world economies during the Covid pandemic. But debt has mounted continuously in most countries. In the US, public (government) debt is over $36 trillion. Private US debt is between $20 trillion and $30 trillion, depending on how it is counted. The extreme efforts to avert financial disasters mean that markets have never been allowed to clear. Like a forest in which fires are suppressed and undergrowth is never cleared by smaller burns, the fire, when it comes, may be cataclysmic.

After many years of increases in democratic governance in the 20th century, the 21st is seeing considerable backsliding. According to Transparency International:

In every region of the world, democracy is under attack by populist leaders and groups that reject pluralism and demand unchecked power to advance the particular interests of their supporters, usually at the expense of minorities and other perceived foes.

The form of democracy endures. In 2024, more people voted in elections than ever before in history. But with the rise of illiberal democracies, many countries are preserving the form but not the substance of democracy as it has been defined over the past 250 years. It is of particular interest that young people in many places are increasingly dissatisfied with democracy.

Why is all this happening? There are many interacting reasons, but I would suggest that four factors should be singled out.

First, as I have written before, are the broken promises so many people perceive in their lives. They feel that they played by the rules and were promised that their lives would improve and their children’s lives would be even better than their own. If anyone reading this sincerely believes this now, I would be surprised.

Second, the underlying conviction that economic well-being is the primary motivation of almost everyone and the most reliable source of human happiness — and that humans are rational self-interested agents who pursue and maximize their own well-being. This is the basis of not only capitalism, but also socialism and communism.

But, as it turns out, Marx was wrong in his estimation that economics is the moving force of history. It could rather be said that economic forces are moving history away from economics and toward identity politics. As people move or are moved en masse for jobs and economic production, community structures come apart, engendering an urgent need for identity. That need frequently takes the form of a desire to belong to some group that excludes others (social, religious, political, economic, even place-based).

A third factor is technology, particularly the technology of connectivity, and most particularly, mobile visual connectivity (smart phones, tablets, etc.). Not only do these devices demonstrably increase loneliness and affect cognition, as continues to be shown in studies, they also contribute two additional, crucial elements. The first is transparency. People now are intimately aware of how other people live to an extent that has never occurred previously. Whether such accounts are exaggerated, false, or accurate doesn’t matter much, the effects are often the same: envy, sadness, depression, and anger.

Second, mobile visual connectivity allows people with similar interests and thoughts —  including politically aggressive and polarizing ideas or destructive and self-destructive desires — to find one another, create relationships, share and develop ideas, and then act on them. It is perhaps most important that they are all able to do this from a distance and almost instantly. In the past, it was much more difficult for people whose thoughts were outside the norm to find one another and act in concert.

Fourth, much of the avoidance of major wars during the past 8 decades was due to the so-called Pax Americana, a system imposed on the world by the United States and made possible by American military power. Recently, with changes in military technology and the rise of other powers as near peers in military terms, this superiority begun to erode. Other factors are contributing to the eclipse of the Pax Americana, especially the debt load mentioned above. For the first time, the US last year spent more on government debt service than on its military.

All of these factors augur a more conflictual, impoverished, and insecure world. In other words, reversion to the conditions of most of human history. Perhaps some change or series of changes can avert this fate, and we should hope that they do. But if trends continue on their current path, life may be very different.