The AI Coup

I’ve always believed technology should lift people up, not grind them down. But what I’m seeing with artificial intelligence (AI) today has me deeply worried. It’s not just about robots taking jobs or algorithms tweaking our social media feeds. It’s about a seismic shift—a corporate takeover orchestrated by Silicon Valley that’s siphoning off our resources, eroding our democracy, and treating workers like disposable parts in a machine. After digging into this issue, I’m convinced we’re in the midst of an “AI coup” that puts profits over people, and it’s time we face the consequences head-on.

I’ve been watching with growing unease as the boundaries between government and multinational corporations dissolve. The recent parade of tech billionaires cozying up to political power in the U.S. feels like a corporate coup, but let’s be precise: this is a Silicon Valley takeover. These aren’t just any corporations—they’re the tech giants betting big on AI to cement their dominance. The chaos in Washington, with federal workers abruptly sent home and researchers stripped of funding, isn’t random. To me, it looks like a deliberate plan to replace human expertise with chatbots and hand over our biggest challenges—like curing diseases or finding sustainable energy—to AI systems these companies aim to control for profit.

This isn’t just happening in the U.S. Governments worldwide are sprinting to join the AI race, often cloaking it as a quest for efficiency. In France, an AI tool named Albert is handling bureaucratic tasks. In Canada, AI is sorting visa applications and predicting tax case outcomes. In the UK, leaders are banking on AI-driven digital reforms to save billions. But I see through the rhetoric—this is austerity dressed up as progress, a way to slash public spending while outsourcing critical functions to opaque tech systems. As someone who fights for workers, I’m alarmed by what it means when governments turn into “black boxes,” as impenetrable as the infuriating customer service bots we’ve all battled at companies like Uber or Amazon. If I’m struggling to track down my social security check because I’m stuck in a loop with a chatbot, what hope do millions of workers have for navigating systems that are supposed to serve them?

The deeper I dive, the clearer it becomes that AI’s flaws carry devastating human costs, especially for the most vulnerable. I’ve read about cases like Australia’s “robo-debt” scandal, where algorithms wrongly flagged welfare recipients as owing money, kicking them off benefits and demanding they prove the system’s mistakes. The result? Real harm—poverty, despair, even suicides—because a faulty algorithm was trusted over human judgment. Similar stories echo globally, from visa processing to tax audits, where AI’s biases amplify societal discrimination. People of color and marginalized groups often bear the brunt, flagged unfairly by systems that lack the nuance or accountability of human decision-making.

What chills me most is how these glitchy systems are now entwined with existential stakes, like deportations. I’ve heard of AI tools scanning social media posts—say, a comment about Palestine or a photo of a tattoo—to flag individuals for visa revocation. It’s not just about errors; it’s about using AI to cloak political agendas, targeting dissenters while shrugging off mistakes as collateral damage. As a working-class advocate, I see this as a betrayal. Workers and immigrants, already stretched thin, are now at the mercy of algorithms that don’t care about their lives or livelihoods. How can we trust systems that prioritize speed over justice?

Stepping back, I’ve been asking myself: what’s the endgame here? What do tech giants like Google or figures like Elon Musk want? They’re not exactly spelling it out, but the patterns are clear. Silicon Valley’s dream seems to be a world where AI mediates every interaction, from government services to education to defense, ensuring they’re at the center of it all, collecting data and profits. They want deregulation, tax breaks, and freedom from antitrust scrutiny—goals that align suspiciously well with the current U.S. administration’s moves to shield certain tech allies while letting others face legal heat.

But it’s more than just dodging oversight. I see a broader agenda to gut public institutions and fill the void with AI-driven alternatives. Take education: I’ve watched tech companies push to digitize classrooms, recording lectures and automating grading to cut costs. It’s sold as efficiency, but I see it as a step toward replacing teachers with algorithms, especially when we’ve already devalued educators by forcing them to teach to standardized tests. Similarly, in healthcare and urban planning, AI is pitched as a solution—think “smart cities” or telehealth—but it’s really about embedding tech companies into every facet of our lives, turning us into data points for their profit.

The defense sector is another frontier. I’m struck by how tech firms are angling to become the new arms dealers, pitching AI-driven weapons and surveillance systems as more “efficient” than traditional defense contractors like Boeing. It’s a chilling pivot: social media platforms, once sold as tools for connection, are now cross-referencing posts with visa data to fuel deportations, effectively becoming arms of the security state. This isn’t about innovation—it’s about power and money, and it’s workers who’ll pay the price when these systems fail or are weaponized.

Beyond the human toll, I’m horrified by AI’s environmental cost. We’re told AI will solve the world’s problems, but it’s making them worse, especially when it comes to our planet. The “cloud” sounds ethereal, but it’s grounded in massive data centers—sprawling complexes packed with servers that guzzle energy and water to power AI models and process our data. Building these centers demands mining rare minerals and toxic manufacturing processes, scarring the earth before the servers even fire up. Once operational, they consume staggering amounts of electricity and water to stay cool, straining local grids and resources.

I’ve read about communities fighting back. In Chile, residents pushed against a Google data center, fearing it would drain their newly acquired running water. In Ireland, data centers now eat up 21% of the nation’s electricity, triggering alerts that prioritize machines over people’s heating needs. This is a choice—machines over humans—and it’s happening while tech companies abandon their green promises. Just a few years ago, Microsoft and Google trumpeted “net zero” pledges, but their emissions have skyrocketed as they chase AI market share. They’re sacrificing our world to build a digital one, and I can’t help but see it as vampiric, draining our resources to feed a mirror world that serves their bottom line.

At its core, I believe this AI push is a war on the human. It’s not just about replacing workers with machines; it’s about reshaping us to fit a system that treats us like machines. In today’s economy, workers are already pushed to the brink—speeding up, producing more, living precariously. AI feeds into this, offering tools to boost output while making us more replaceable. The more we let ourselves be quantified, standardized, and automated, the easier it is for AI to take over. I’ve seen studies, like one from Microsoft, showing that heavy reliance on AI chatbots dulls critical thinking. If we’re not careful, we’re outsourcing our humanity itself.

Education is a stark example. When we force teachers to churn out cookie-cutter lessons or grade by algorithm, we make them expendable. But when we empower educators to inspire, adapt, and connect with students—work that demands creativity and care—no machine can replicate that. The same applies to all workers: the less we let ourselves be reduced to cogs, the less vulnerable we are to this takeover. Yet the system incentivizes the opposite, and that’s no accident—it’s capitalism’s logic, now supercharged by AI.

A Call for Resistance???

So, how do we resist? I’m inspired by movements like the anti-Tesla protests, which expose even “green” tech giants as prioritizing profit over people. But we need to think bigger. I see potential in unlikely coalitions. Many on the right, especially the MAGA base, share a distrust of Big Tech and its “transhumanist” agenda, feeling betrayed by the cozy alliance between tech billionaires and their leaders. Workers on the left and right alike are frustrated by an economy that devalues them. Could this be a chance to unite against the AI coup, demanding technology that serves the public, not corporate greed?

I also believe resistance starts locally and globally. In Canada, Amazon’s retreat from Quebec after a warehouse unionized shows the power of collective action. Globally, countries like Canada, Brazil, or those in Europe could lead by building tech infrastructure that prioritizes public needs over profit—think free electric buses instead of just swapping Tesla for another electric car. We need to reimagine technology as a tool for liberation, not control.

Reflecting on history, I’m reminded of Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator, where he urged people to reject “machine men with machine minds and machine hearts.” He called on us to reclaim our humanity, to use our power to create a “free and beautiful” life. That message resonates today. We’re not machines, and we don’t have to surrender to this AI-driven dystopia.

But here’s where I’m left wondering: Can we, the working class, harness our collective power to demand a future where technology uplifts us rather than drains us? Can we build a movement that rejects this war on the human and insists on a world where people come first? What do you think it will take to turn this tide?