It was a Tuesday night in Palo Alto — which, if you know anything about Palo Alto, means it was indistinguishable from every other night in Palo Alto. Same Tesla-lined parking lot. Same $22 cocktails. Same ambient hum of people
The Algorithmic Consent Problem
It was one of those Menlo Park dinners where everyone pretends they’re just decompressing from the week but somehow ends up pitching their latest moral framework. Mr. X had gathered the usual suspects—founders, VCs, and a handful of “ethics consultants”
Do the Tech Elite Still Believe in Progress?
It was a fog-thick night in Woodside, the kind where the Teslas move silently through the mist like silver fish returning to spawn. Mr. X had convened the usual dinner: founders, investors, and one philosopher from Stanford who claimed to
Why the Tech Elite Miss Trump
It was a Thursday night at Rosewood, the unofficial parliament of Palo Alto. The mood was unusually nostalgic — not for a product launch or an IPO anniversary, but for a president. Mr. X swirled his drink, eyes reflecting the
Can AI Dividends Save the Middle Class?
It was a Thursday night at a speakeasy in Menlo Park, the kind of place that used to pretend to be exclusive but now mostly served VCs looking for privacy from their own portfolios. Mr. X, as usual, had gathered
Would You Leave Silicon Valley for AI Equity?
It was another Thursday night in Mountain View — the kind of “casual mixer” that felt like a disguised pitch event. Same bar, same kombucha-on-tap, same algorithmically selected crowd of founders and funders pretending they weren’t job-hunting. Mr. X and
The Alignment Church of Palo Alto
It started as a hackathon joke. By the time the IRS granted them 501(c)(3) status, it was a movement. Every Sunday at 10 a.m., in a minimalist warehouse near Sand Hill Road, the congregation of the Alignment Church files in
Do tech startups still believe in truth?
It was a foggy Thursday night in Palo Alto, the kind that makes University Avenue feel like a simulation with bad rendering. Mr. X and I were at a café that only served “ethically deconstructed” coffee—meaning the barista gave you
The AI nanny collective: how Silicon Valley parents are beta-testing childhood
It started, as most things in Menlo Park do, over shared mezze and mutual self-regard. A late summer dinner, half toddlers, half founders. The air smelled faintly of eucalyptus and deferred IPOs. Mr. X was holding court near the firepit,
Dating in the age of equity
It was another Thursday at Madera—technically “Cougar Night,” but lately the crowd skewed toward Series A founders pretending to be emotionally available. Mr. X and I had arrived early, nursing Negronis while a group at the next table debated whether