In the 1892 preface to The Condition of the Working Class in England, Friedrich Engels argued that, as industry developed, some exploitative practices ceased to benefit the largest manufacturers. Firms that observed decent standards could be undercut by competitors using longer hours, truck payments or harsher exploitation. Uniform regulation could therefore protect large or compliant firms against “low-road” competition. He wrote that the Ten Hours Act and related reforms ran “much against the spirit of Free Trade and unbridled competition, but quite as much in favour of the giant-capitalist” against smaller competitors. He added that the Factory Acts, originally “the bugbear of all manufacturers,” eventually came to be willingly accepted and their extension tolerated. Larger employers also found that continual conflict with a large workforce was costly, giving them an interest in more orderly industrial relations.
A clearer formulation about employers actively seeking regulation can be found in Marx’s Capital in chapters 10 and 15. Marx noted that some factory owners complying with the 1833 Act petitioned Parliament against the “immoral competition” of rivals who evaded it. Then in 1863, 26 Staffordshire pottery firms sought legislation because competition made voluntary restrictions on child labour impossible. Their memorial concluded that “some legislative enactment is wanted.” More generally, Marx noted that capitalists began calling for “equality in the conditions of competition” meaning that restraints on exploitation should bind all competitors alike.
From this we can derive a general principle that competition could compel even an employer who recognised the harms of excessive hours to continue them, because unilateral restraint meant being undercut. A general law could solve that collective-action problem by imposing the same minimum conditions on everyone.
That said, Engels did not regard enlightened factory owners as the principal originators of the Factory Acts. In his account, the early legislation was wrung from generally resistant manufacturers through workers’ agitation, trade-union pressure, humanitarian campaigning and political conflict. Robert Owen and Sir Robert Peel were exceptional manufacturer-reformers. Only later did substantial sections of capital, especially large firms, accept or support regulation when it served their interests. Thus, a sharper historical proposition would be that the Factory Acts arose principally from struggle against capital, but their consolidation and extension became possible partly because some capitalists discovered that uniform regulation protected them from destructive competition, reduced industrial conflict and disproportionately burdened smaller exploitative rivals.
Both Engels and Marx therefore saw regulation as simultaneously protective of workers, a restraint on competitive exploitation, and, rather less benignly, a mechanism assisting the concentration of capital.
These observations of the English industrial revolution are quaint, but they are resurrected in the face of a new type of industrial revolution, that in a best case scenario, increasingly seems to be based on the control of the means of computational capital through the extraction and profiting from data.
It is suggested that the central parallel is the collective-action problem. An AI company may recognise that extensive testing, slower deployment, security controls or restrictions on dangerous capabilities are desirable. But if competitors can release faster, spend less on safety and capture the market, restraint carries a competitive penalty. Like the nineteenth-century manufacturer who could not voluntarily reduce working hours while rivals continued exploiting children, even a comparatively responsible AI company can be driven by competition towards conduct it regards as collectively dangerous. The UK’s recent frontier-AI assessment expressly identifies the possibility of a competitive “race to the bottom” in which developers build and release rapidly while underinvesting in safety.
A historical parallel / common regulatory approach in the face of market dynamics therefore seems to be requiring every significant developer to incur certain safety costs; preventing companies from gaining advantage simply by externalising risks; making caution commercially sustainable rather than commercially self-defeating; converting voluntary standards into inspectable and enforceable obligations.
Importantly, the EU AI Act exemplifies this logic through common requirements concerning model evaluation, adversarial testing, systemic-risk mitigation, incident reporting and cybersecurity for general-purpose models presenting systemic risk. There may also be a parallel in the changing position of some of the largest AI firms. Leading AI companies increasingly advocate some form of mandatory regulation. OpenAI has proposed a federal frontier-safety framework, while Anthropic has proposed mandatory independent testing and governmental powers to prevent or recall dangerously deployed systems. This may be laudable, but that does not necessarily mean their concerns are insincere. Nevertheless, as Engels and Marx appeared to emphasise, regulation can be both genuinely protective and advantageous to incumbents. Large firms are better able to absorb compliance costs, employ regulatory specialists, undertake expensive evaluations and influence technical standards. Regulation may eliminate irresponsible rivals while simultaneously making market entry harder.
Therefore, in a present day context, the issue may not merely be about regulatory capture by monopolies, but that the same regulatory framework can perform several functions at once including protecting workers, users and society; restraining genuinely dangerous competitive pressures; stabilising the industry and increasing public confidence; protecting large incumbents against less regulated competitors; accelerating concentration by imposing costs smaller firms cannot bear.
Perhaps this historical analogy should not be overstated. Factory legislation dealt with relatively observable working hours, injuries, child exploitation, and employment relationships. AI risks are more dispersed, uncertain and transnational; affected persons may include workers, users, creators, democratic institutions and people who never directly use the system. The creation of technology that has powers of creativity, analysis and authorship also risks rendering human labour superfluous and creating what Marx might have described as proportionally the largest surplus labour populations within the history of industrial capitalism. Nevertheless, the core principle is that emerging AI regulation can be understood as a legally enforced common floor that prevents competitive pressure from rewarding firms which externalise the costs of unsafe development, while potentially strengthening the largest firms capable of bearing and shaping that regulation.
Even this may be the optimistic conclusion. Factory legislation presupposed a continuing relationship of dependence in that capital still required workers, and the law sought to regulate the conditions under which their labour could be used. Advanced AI raises a more disturbing possibility. Just as rulers sustained by natural-resource rents may become less dependent upon, and therefore less responsive to, their citizens, those controlling computational capital may become progressively less dependent on human labour, professional expertise and the social cooperation from which political bargaining power has historically arisen. The tendency may therefore be not towards market equilibrium, but towards the concentration of power, the displacement of labour and the erosion of reciprocal social relations. The spectre haunting AI regulation is not merely that workers will be exploited by the machine, but that those who own the means of computational capital may come to regard workers, and the social compact built around their indispensability, as superfluous.
This possibility has recently been described as the “intelligence curse.” Rentier-state scholarship has long suggested that governments deriving revenue from natural resources rather than broad taxation may become less dependent on their citizens, weakening incentives for investment, representation and accountability. Labour-replacing AI could reproduce this structure at a still deeper level, i.e. control over computational capital might reduce not only fiscal dependence on citizens but economic dependence on human labour itself. The analogy is not deterministic, institutions can convert resource wealth into shared prosperity, but it identifies the political stakes of who owns AI and upon whom its owners continue to depend.
China’s AI Keeps Gaining Ground
I was terrified that the AI bubble would collapse while I was on vacation and then I would have nothing to do this week. For better or worse, it’s still there, and the AI stocks I’ve been tracking are worth $2.2 trillion more than they were two weeks ago.
Here are this week’s numbers:

I will mention one highlight (or lowlight) of my vacation. We were traveling through Eastern Oregon, Utah, and Idaho, all areas hard hit by the wildfires. The air in many of these places was truly awful. I have been fortunate in being relatively healthy and have no real breathing problems. But there were places where I was coughing regularly due to the amount of soot in the air. I can’t imagine what it must be like for a kid with asthma. If I were a parent living in these places, I would be really angry at the global warmers.
Anyhow, here’s a quick look at some of the topics that caught my eye.
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Alibaba’s new top model, Qwen 3.8 Max, was released last week. It ranks fourth in overall performance, ahead of OpenAI’s top ranked model. However, more striking than the performance is the price gap. The OpenAI model costs 250 percent as much for input tokens and 500 percent as much for output tokens. OpenAI is asking customers to pay much more to get less.
Lower costs are leading more users, both internationally and in the United States, to switch to Chinese AI. According to OpenRouter data, the use of Chinese AI far exceeds the use of US AI. The crypto company Coinbase recently switched to Chinese AI. The differences in cost are so large that it swamps any home country bias for many companies in the United States. At the moment, it looks like if there is some great AI bonanza to be had, it will be in China.
Productivity Is Lagging
The Bureau of Labor Statistics released data on productivity growth for the second quarter. It was just 1.4 percent. That is the third consecutive quarter of weak growth. Remember, if the AI boom is going to pay off, we should see a massive surge in productivity growth in the range of 4-5 percent. We’re going the wrong way right now.
I have to throw in the usual caveats: productivity growth data are erratic and subject to large revisions. But the data we are seeing does not support the boom story. In fact, the next revision will likely be downward. We will get preliminary benchmark revisions to employment data this month, which will likely show slightly more rapid job growth. More rapid job growth means more rapid hours growth, and therefore slower productivity growth. Although these revisions won’t be incorporated into the productivity data until the final revisions are released next February.
The one sector where there could be a plausible story of AI killing jobs is insurance. Employment has dropped by 81K (2.7 percent) over the last year. That sort of decline might be what we should expect in the sectors where AI is having a major impact.
The AI Escape Stories
There were several accounts of training models escaping the sandboxes in which they are being trained and penetrating other companies’ computer systems. Sebastian Mallaby has a good summary in his Substack. It doesn’t seem like major harm was done, but we can’t know for sure everyone was being truthful. Obviously, OpenAI and Anthropic aren’t anxious to publicize harm caused by their AI, and the victims don’t particularly want to advertise their vulnerability.
In any case, it’s a safe bet that this will not be the last “escape,” and odds are that future ones will do serious damage. Maybe they can put in enough safeguards to ensure that this is not the case, but I don’t know if that would be the surest bet.
Talk of the AI Bubble Is Everywhere
It now seems as though everyone recognizes the AI bubble. Just last week, Oracle’s Larry Ellison was the coverboy of New York Times Magazine as the likely number one victim of the bubble’s collapse. Marketplace radio was talking about what happens when the bubble pops. Business Insider told us that famous Big Shorter Michael Burris is betting on the collapse of some AI darlings. And we were told that Broadcom will somehow survive the crash.
It is great to see more discussion of the bubble so that it becomes common wisdom. The question is when it will start to affect stock investment in a big way. The problem here is that the “who could have known?” defense creates a huge asymmetry for fund managers.
If they pull their money out of AI-related stocks and they continue to rise, they will be called on the carpet for failing to match the performance of other managers. But if the AI stocks crash, and bring down the rest of the market, they will all say, “who could have known?” and be given a pass. No one will be fired and few will probably even miss a promotion.
This is a massive problem in how our financial system is structured. We have people getting high six and even seven figure salaries who are completely unaccountable for their performance. It’s not nice to fire people, but if a person lost a pension fund hundreds of millions (or even billions) of dollars because they made the same stupid mistake as everyone else, they really need to be shown the door.
If all the fund managers are doing is following everyone else, we can pay a high school kid the minimum wage to do that. Better yet, we can have an AI program do the job. If someone is getting paid big bucks, then they need to be thinking for themselves, and when their strategy produces bad results, they should face serious career consequences. Many of the rest of us will face serious consequences for their mistake in allowing the bubble to grow so large.
This first appeared on Dean Baker’s “AI Bubble Monitor” blog.
Let’s start from an uncomfortable premise: AI is going to happen. Not because it is good, or wanted, or well governed, but because there is currently no credible resistance to the capital building it. Governments are competing to host it and pension funds are invested in it. The opposition is real, but it is small, scattered and mostly aesthetic. Whatever you think of the technology, betting on it being stopped is not a strategy.
If that is the starting point, the interesting question is not whether AI arrives: it is who ends up owning what it produces (assuming, of course, that it does indeed produce what is promised).
The mood turns
The public is not enthusiastic and is becoming less so. The 2026 Bentley-Gallup research found that 39% of Americans now think AI does more harm than good, up from 31% a year earlier, against a threadbare 9% who think the reverse. Nearly eight in ten expect it to reduce the number of jobs over the next decade. Among 18 to 29 year olds, the share with no trust at all in businesses to use AI responsibly has risen from 29% to 41%.
That is not a technology problem. It is a legitimacy problem, and legitimacy problems are political.
The corporate story changes
The industry has noticed. Barely a year ago its leaders were briefing the apocalypse. In May 2025 Dario Amodei warned that AI could wipe out half of all entry-level white-collar jobs and push unemployment to 10 to 20%, and that everyone else was sugar-coating it. It was framed as honesty.
Now the same voices have done an about-face. In May 2026, Amodei, sharing a stage with Jamie Dimon, reached instead for the Jevons paradox, the comforting idea that automating most of a job simply expands what is left of it. Sam Altman has declared that the purpose of AI is not to take people’s jobs and called AI chief executives tone-deaf for saying otherwise. This has been described as the “jobocalypse messaging swerve”. The new line, more or less and suspiciously in unison, is that you are not being replaced, you are being augmented: in other words, “nothing to see here!”.
The data did not change. One study shows that US employers alone cut 101,743 jobs in the first half of 2026, directly citing AI as the reason (approximately 23% of all cuts): the number could be much higher when AI is hidden among other explanations. What changed is that the polling got ugly. Read the reassurance as Big Tech anxiety, not confidence.
Two outcomes emerge
There are really only two ways this ends.
The first is the one anti-AI activists fear, and they are not wrong to fear it. Ownership of the technology, the compute and the data consolidates in very few hands, the state becomes a customer rather than a regulator, and ordinary people absorb disruption without historical precedent. That road leads somewhere authoritarian and produces a bloody resistance to match.
The second is barely discussed, because it sounds hopelessly naive. What if everyone actually got a share of all that newly accrued value?
The meaning of shared value
Notice that the elites have started saying this themselves. In May 2026 Gavin Newsom signed an executive order directing California to explore severance standards, worker ownership models and what he calls universal basic capital, on the logic that people do not need charity, they need ownership. Bernie Sanders has proposed an AI tax and a requirement that businesses give workers a real stake. Interest has been reported in variants of the idea from figures as unalike as Sanders, Newsom, Steve Bannon, Sam Altman and Donald Trump.
The words are shared, the meaning is not. At one end of the spectrum, sharing value means a productivity bonus in the December payslip and a press release. At the other, it means transferring the returns on automated labour to the people whose labour it replaced, held as assets rather than handouts: in short, genuine wealth redistribution.
The second version is worth taking seriously, because it describes something that has repeatedly eluded reformers. Every previous attempt at redistribution had to argue for taking something from someone. This one arrives with a surplus attached and a plausible claim that the surplus was built on all of us, our work, our writing, our data. If AI delivers the value its backers promise, it is the most credible vehicle for economic justice to appear in decades, if not centuries.
Power must be taken
None of this happens on its own. There is no government on Earth currently willing to face down the AI barons and compel the entire downstream economy to do the right thing, and there is no reason to expect any existing administration to volunteer any time soon. The existing political class–whether left or right–is bought and paid for.
The political vehicle for a redemptive AI transition does not exist yet. It will not be centrist, because the centre is invested. It will not be recognisably left or right, because that binary is already dissolving on this issue, which is precisely why Bannon and Sanders can arrive at the same policy from opposite directions. It will be built by whoever is willing to go and win power on the promise that the gains get shared, and then actually do it with a merciless message to AI barons of FAFO: it will be won by AI populism.
Unlikely, obviously. But it is the only version of this story in which ordinary people come out ahead.





