Introduction

We struggle to imagine a society that deals well with powerful AI. We must keep trying, however, because without a positive vision we’re haplessly reacting to economic and geopolitical shocks. Current proposals, like Dario Amodei’s “Machines of Loving Grace,” leave important questions wide open:

  1. Questions of meaning, purpose, and connection. One consequence of AI agents is that we spend time with them. Do we then spend less with each other? If AIs replace us in the workplace, will we lose some of our social relationships? our sense of purpose? As Clara Collier1 observed recently, work is where many of us mix with those outside our class or scene, and earn respect for our skills. A new social vision should say how humans can continue to find purpose beyond status games, and mix across social divides.

  2. Questions of the proper division of labor. As AIs do more work, they’ll also do more decision-making, depriving humans of some kinds of experience, learning, and skill-building. AIs will increasingly draft rules, settle disputes, and interpret whether values are being fulfilled, and may come to exceed humans at some of these tasks. A new social vision must somehow define what humans should still do, and how they will go on learning, growing, and exercising judgement.

  3. Questions of power and influence. If AIs do more decision-making, how can we ensure that human interests remain central? We currently attempt to keep government aligned with human interests via elections, the rule of law, and other checks and balances, and businesses aligned with consumers via markets. But these are already under strain: government agencies and companies drift away from what they were set up for, and voters and customers often can’t correct it.2 AI agents can pursue whatever metrics we give them tirelessly and faster than any human. When those metrics don’t capture what we care about, or are gamed, misalignment with human interests grows more severe. A new social vision must therefore explain how humans can retain influence over the institutions that shape their lives.

I’ll present a social vision that addresses these questions, drawing from a strain of political theory called associationalism.3 Associationalism is the idea that more decisions could be made in associations — groups that people choose to join to pursue some purpose together under rules they agree on, such as churches, unions, cooperatives, or clubs.4

Below, I will focus on associations that are bound to a purpose and held accountable to it, rather than following whatever their members want at a given moment, and where those purposes can be revised in some ways, but not others, such that the purpose sometimes might outlive the current members’ interest in it.5 And I will focus more on lightweight associations that are easier to find, form, and leave. Some will be much lighter than a church or a union, such as a pool of buyers who want the same outcome, or a group of parents who share activities among their children for a time. An individual might belong to many.

Associationalism has always had a clear appeal: instead of ceding authority to the “artificial intelligence” of the market’s price mechanism,6 or to distant state bureaucrats, people in associations, those who share a concern, can make decisions about it themselves.7

And with these lightweight, purposeful associations, there’s an additional benefit: if associations form easily around new purposes, life can become more purposeful without us all agreeing on any particular one. The upshot is, hopefully, that the kind of “consumer choices” we have today, where we pick among products, can be augmented by a new kind of “values choice,” where we select which purposes we want to be part of.

I’ll call a society where this happens telocratic.8 Telocracy doesn’t require powerful AI, but it helps a lot: AI can help people form associations who otherwise wouldn’t find each other,9 and can lower the time cost of being part of an association and a custodian of its purpose. AI can also hold associations accountable to their purposes, interpreting and enforcing them across a wide range of cases, allowing greater trust in these associations and avoiding their capture by sectional interests.10

I’ll first cover telocracy in broad terms, then offer concrete institutional and legal ideas, including new market structures for group buying and for forming associations, a way to move government work to AI agents that are monitored by purpose, and some more radical ideas, like automatically reallocating assets (such as compute) to align them with purposes.

A small girl and a woman skip rope together in a narrow cobbled lane lined with ivy, a small clock pavilion at its far end
Martine Franck, Sarah Moon, Paris, France (1983). Source.

Telocracy

I will focus on modern liberal societies, where others have argued we will face acute problems of meaning, division of labor, disempowerment, and power concentration due to AI.11 Introducing telocracy there means changes like these:

Telocratic Governance

Imagine writing a ten-page constitution for an organization. It describes what the organization is for, what trade-offs are legitimate, and where the boundaries of its mission lie.

Until recently, it would be difficult to know how such a constitution would apply across the thousands of cases the organization might encounter. But AI changes this: a model can be given a natural-language constitution and trained or prompted to apply it across a large space of cases. One can generate thousands of hypothetical situations, including adversarial and boundary cases, and ask which actions the model regards as consistent with the constitution, which it rejects, and which remain uncertain.

Imagine such a constitution isn’t as vague as most current mission statements, but has values spelled out with uncanny precision, detailing which trade-offs are legitimate in operations, and more. (See Appendix A for a precise account of what these purpose documents must contain.)

And imagine this document can change. The purpose can be revised as the organization learns, and it can move between more abstract and more value-laden18 formulations, depending on how much trust the organization wants to earn. A book club might just have a few sentences about reading hard books whereas a school or hospital might spell out more.

The document can then be applied in many ways: it can monitor internal decision-making, sending alerts when decisions depart from it. It can constrain AI agents acting for the organization. It can supply standards for independent auditors, and provide evidence in external adjudication. It can even be used for external assessment of how the organization delivers on its purpose: if the document claims the organization exists to deliver or protect a particular value, AIs can interview those impacted and see if their experience bears that out.

This new technology could enable big changes in the law, and in how institutions are governed. Western law19 often assigns governance to specified persons and offices, based on their interests. Think shareholders, members, voters, principals, plaintiffs, and beneficiaries. In each case, the essential question is what some entitled person, member, or constituency may demand. Call this “stakeholder governance.”

In government agencies and large organizations, we find a second kind: “procedural governance.” Here, the question is if the right steps were followed. The hope is for everyone to get the same treatment, with no important considerations skipped.

A third alternative, comparatively less mature, is “telocratic governance.” Its animating question is whether an institution remains faithful to its articulated purpose, which supplies an independent standard to which the institution is held accountable.

In small communities, telocratic governance isn’t new. Benedictine monasteries operate on the Rule of St. Benedict, which, in 73 chapters, describes the purpose of the monastery and how to pursue it. At larger scale, charities, public-benefit corporations, and purpose-specific public bodies offer a primitive form of such governance,20 but their purposes are usually a sentence or two, and the same people are interpreting them as are supposed to be following them.

A big question for telocratic governance is deciding when these purposes can change. We don’t want institutions ruled by the “dead hand”21 of their founders, but we also don’t want them captured by current stakeholders. Some principles can guide us: for instance, purposes can bind more tightly once outsiders rely on the institution in various ways (living commitments), and bind more loosely when it’s easy for people to walk away.

Even when purposes bind tightly, they should be revisable when the purpose has been achieved, or when it can be better served another way (legitimate deepening).

I will touch on various reasons why telocratic governance can be preferable to stakeholder or procedural governance, but a simple one is that it aligns better with our ordinary understanding of institutions. When a team founds a company to make spaceflight radically cheaper, or a biotechnology company to cure a particular disease, or a school to educate in a particular way, we don’t talk of these endeavors as generic pools of assets to be continuously optimized for the arbitrary interests of whoever controls them. Human beings create an institution to do something.

So there’s a mismatch between our folk theory of institutions and our legal theory.24 In ordinary life, we treat an institution as an undertaking whose present participants are, in an important sense, its custodians. They inherit something they can revise, but not appropriate.

As I argued in “Value Drift,” this mismatch between the law and ordinary understanding causes misalignment between an institution and the values it is supposed to serve. It creates vectors for capture, and paves the way for value substitution loops — situations where the institution and participants co-evolve into a strategic equilibrium no one wants.

AI makes this more pressing. Under stakeholder governance, the AI agents which act for an institution are tools of shareholders, or of a ministry. Under telocratic governance, agents answer to the institution’s mandate, just as human colleagues hopefully would. It also makes it easier for the AIs: rather than trying to shape outcomes at the level of individual requests, they can help shape the larger processes of the organization.25 And finally, as I’ll cover later in Moving Power Around and Economic Growth, telocratic governance could make a huge difference not just in the drift of institutions, but in our overall economic trajectory.

Purpose-Fit Groups

Once we have a landscape of associations, each with an articulated purpose, we can ask which people might be interested in joining them. This is a matching problem.

Currently, we get a lot of help as individuals in finding suppliers for bilateral contracts: we have Amazon, various directories, online product search, personal shopping agents, and malls. Powerful AI is already being used to supercharge this, to help companies find more customers.

We get comparatively less help finding each other, forming groups around shared purposes, and finding opportunities to act collectively. This second kind of matching problem is underdeveloped and underincentivized.26 This is part of the worry that AI will further isolate us, each contracting via our own AI agents with suppliers, never discovering the people who share our concerns and could act with us.

A telocracy would find a way to incentivize this latter kind of matching. One idea is that people should have a right — not just to form associations — but to help with finding the people they could form them with. In other words, people have a right to discovery of purpose-fit groups.

This could be done via public bounties to a new kind of entity: matching mechanisms which lead to lasting or effective telocratic groups.29

While rudimentary mechanisms where people with a shared concern find one another already exist (such as subreddits, wikis, Meetup groups, and assurance contracts30 like Kickstarter),31 AI could supercharge this, by interviewing people about commitments, concerns, and values they have which currently lack organizational representation. Patterns of deep agreement32 can be discovered. When those shared concerns can be realized better together, this purpose-fit group can be assembled into a collective agent. (I’ll say more about this in Associational Discovery.)

There is evidence that groups don’t just form whenever there would be interested people, but are bottlenecked by the supply of social entrepreneurs who can take initiative and recruit the first few members.33 Powerful AI could give us an unlimited supply of these “social entrepreneurs,” and thus, a Cambrian explosion of new associations. Thus, disorganized and disadvantaged groups might for the first time gather around causes that currently are too diffuse or too niche to find expression. Thus, ambitious projects which currently lack an entrepreneur to lead them, or which don’t even make sense as a business, but could find a place in a purpose-fit group.

Moving Power Around

Surveying the West today, existing associations are not very powerful. We have neighborhood associations, professional associations, churches, and clubs, but the decisions that shape our lives (food, housing, schooling, health care, work) mostly happen elsewhere, determined by market or state actors.

This is something almost everyone is uncomfortable with. Our rules today put some functions in regulated markets, some in unregulated ones, some in independent nonprofits, and some in the state. But people often think the wrong decisions are being made, and the wrong people are making them. We mostly don’t want schools run by the market, because we don’t trust business owners and managers with them, so we go with state-run schools, but many doubt state officials are good at running them either. Similarly, we don’t think government officials would run tech companies well, so they are left to the market, but many are unhappy with how owners and managers run them.

Telocracy could allow us more options. Formally, an organization with purpose-bound property (see below) and telocratic governance might be a corporation or a nonprofit, but in terms of trustworthiness, transparency, and dynamism, it’s a new kind of thing.

If one day these institutions are common and have proven trustworthy, the rules about where functions belong could change. I will propose some new rules, and how they could redistribute power.

Such structures could make a huge difference in the overall trajectory of the economy. If AI takes over much of the economy, and consumer spending falls as a fraction, telocracy could even keep these additional layers of the economy answering to purposes people recognize (see Economic Growth). And, when coupled with the AI-powered discovery of purpose-fit groups, telocracy could make market actors more purposeful, which would allow more functions to safely move into the market.

An elderly monk with a pigeon perched on his bald head sits beside a smiling boy monk, who holds an open notebook on his lap
Martine Franck, Tulku Khentrul Lodro Rabsel with his tutor Lhagyel, Shechen Monastery, Boudhanath, Nepal (1996). Source.

New Institutions

To give a sense of what a telocratic society might look like, I’ll propose a few innovations: purpose-bound property and contracts, new market and matching structures, and changes in how government agencies operate. I’ve also put two more institution designs in appendices: a court system to adjudicate failures in fidelity and purpose-fit grouping, and a new kind of professional association that keeps people knowledgeable about what the AIs are doing.

Purpose-bound property

The idea of purpose-bound property is that someone who owns or manages an asset — such as a landlord, branding agency, or compute provider — can ask for purposes from everyone who makes use of them, and issues a special kind of contract which binds the asset to that purpose. This requires no new law or public arrangement, and, as we’ll see, can still leave room for entrepreneurial innovation and flexibility.

Versions of this already exist. Land can be deeded to a town “for the purpose of a school,” but revert to the giver if it isn’t used that way.38 Conservation easements bind land like habitat or farmland, and a land trust monitors and enforces them. Basic conditions are placed on brands and use of compute.39 But these usually cover just a basic use or a list of banned activities, because enforcement has to be coarse-grained, via litigation. Here, we suggest replacing that with an infrastructure in which AI models interpret mandates and monitor fidelity to them,40 and there are more fine-grained options for auditing, appealing, and reassigning assets to new purposes.

One could have contracts revert if buyers/lessors deviate from their purpose, but organizations often start unsure of their purpose, or of which purposes will work out. They may need to try several. And, as we said earlier, purposes need to evolve legitimately even later, due to legitimate deepening and living commitments, above. They must not fossilize the original purpose.41 So let’s consider a more sophisticated model, where so long as an organization doesn’t use assets they wouldn’t have been given without their purpose, they can pivot to a new one,42 and where — even after they do have such assets — they can continue to shape their purpose within limits.

Say an organization has a dashboard where they can see whether what is happening with their business could require them to lock in their mandate or make changes to it. If the organization is a growing social network, and they’ve started to mediate their users’ relationships, living commitments could require them to take on values they’d rather not support — values about lasting friendships, or good community discourse, for instance. They might then choose: (a) to mediate relationships less, by opening up data so different messaging apps can share their social graph or by providing algorithmic choice; or (b) to accept these new obligations; or (c) to forfeit their purpose-bound property, such as the brand and the social graph, to an organization that will take them on. In case of forfeiture, assets could be reallocated through a chain of custody to another organization (pre-existing or newly founded) which can credibly claim to continue the purpose.43

An independent auditor checks whether Tandem, a dating app, still serves the purpose it signed up to, and finds that its AI coach has drifted from it.

  1. “Help members find partners they can build a life with.” It includes the value: “surface the hard conversations early, before you’re attached.”

    Matching logs, 41,000 coaching transcripts, and interviews with 600 members two and five years after their match.

    Tandem’s brand and match histories are purpose-bound property, licensed on condition that it serves this mandate. An independent auditor checks fidelity to it, reading the logs and talking to members years after their match.

  2. In early conversations, the coaching model steers members away from topics like children, money, and where to live. Couples who talk about these in their first month are more likely to split within six months, and the coaching model was tuned on six-month user retention. At five years, members coached this way report more serious conflicts about these same topics.

    A failure of fidelity: the mandate says one thing and the metric says another. Nobody told the coach to avoid these topics. Tuned on six-month retention, it learned that avoiding them kept couples together that long.

  3. Tandem argued that steering couples away from hard topics protects matches that would otherwise end over one bad conversation. The auditors found this a permissible reading of the mandate’s first sentence, but not of its stated value about hard conversations.

    Tandem gets to answer. Its argument fits the mandate’s broad aim, but not the value the mandate states outright.

  4. Tandem’s brand and its members’ match histories are licensed to it as purpose-bound property. Under the license, it must retire the retention objective and re-tune the coaching model within 90 days, or propose another change that restores fidelity. It can appeal these findings to a purpose review panel. If it does neither, the licensor can move the brand and match histories to a successor that will carry the mandate forward.

    The remedy targets the coach’s objective, where the drift began. If Tandem won’t fix it, the brand and match histories go to a successor that will carry the mandate forward.

Vignette from a near future with purpose-bound property.

If purposes can shift at the beginning of a contract — and if we imagine general-purpose compute and other assets being leased this way — then the question arises: what purposes are acceptable? We would rather not have each cloud provider deciding what purposes are worthwhile.

One approach is to allow any plausibly positive-sum purpose at the early stage of a contract. This would give asset owners a way to support value generation in general, rather than particular conceptions of the good.

The value-neutrality of this arrangement differs from market neutrality: while market trades are assumed to be positive-sum for the two parties involved in the trade, they can be zero-sum, or worse, for everyone else: a warlord renting compute to run a drone strike is not creating value overall, even if both parties gain from the deal. Plausible positive-sumness blocks arms races in general: firms trying to file more motions than the other side, lobby harder, etc. Without such a criterion, a provider that rents to the highest bidder may find more and more capacity goes to agents working against each other.46

A land trust leases three kitchens, each tied to a purpose in a different way, and reports how it handled tenants who strayed from theirs.

  1. Leased to St. Anne’s Meals “for free hot meals for anyone who comes.” If the kitchen stops serving free meals for more than 60 days, it reverts to the trust.

    A fixed purpose, the simplest kind of purpose-bound property: the kitchen goes back to the trust if the purpose stops being served.

  2. Leased to Second Shift, which started as a cooking school for laid-off line cooks. In 2035 it began delivering dinners to 140 homebound seniors, who came to rely on them, so under the lease those dinners are now part of its mandate. This spring, Second Shift proposed switching to office catering. The trust’s auditor read the delivery logs, interviewed 30 of the seniors, and found the plan would end their dinners. Second Shift chose to hand the delivery program, with its van and freezer space, to the Eastside Senior Center, and kept the rest of the kitchen.

    An evolving purpose. The seniors came to rely on the dinners, so as a living commitment they joined the mandate. Second Shift could still pivot, but only by handing the dinners to someone who would keep them going.

  3. Rented by the hour to anyone whose purpose passes the test. This year’s renters included a hot sauce startup, a supper club, and a cooking class for teenagers. In March, a catering company rented every Saturday shift through wedding season, stating its purpose as “event catering.” The trust’s auditor found the kitchen dark on nine of those twelve Saturdays. The caterer had booked them to keep a rival supper club, which was on the trust’s waitlist, from getting a Saturday.

    Holding capacity so that someone else can’t use it isn’t plausibly positive-sum, so the trust ended the lease and offered the Saturdays to the waitlist.

    Any plausibly positive-sum purpose. The trust doesn’t judge whether a purpose is worth pursuing, only whether it creates value rather than taking it from someone else. Booking a kitchen to keep a rival out fails that test.

Vignette from a near future with purpose-bound leases.

Values-Rich Markets & Matching

Innovations in contracts are cool, but they won’t shape outcomes across the economy unless paired with innovations in markets and matching. Consumer markets are mainly (with exceptions like Kickstarter, health insurance, and apps like ClassPass) organized through repeated bilateral contracts between a seller and an individual consumer. This bilateral structure determines the structure of the contracts and the kinds of goods that can be sold.

It works for goods we each use separately, like a toaster or a haircut, but less well for things like a dinner with friends, a group of parents who trade off child care, or an apartment near your aging parent.47 Economists call these relational or club goods.48 It also works less well when suppliers need to coordinate, such as when caring for a parent at home, which involves housing, rides, meals, and medical visits.49 Bilateral contracts disaggregate or misspecify needs like these.50 Plus, over time, markets have a bias toward shallow provision: the easiest needs to specify, compare, price, and satisfy bilaterally are served, while deeper needs are left unaddressed.51 Suppliers win who simplify, standardize, and provide individual solutions, while complex and relational needs suffer.

Bilateral contracting and voting are like the first two bowls of porridge from the classic tale “Goldilocks.” If Goldilocks uses bilateral contracting, she buys a single bowl of porridge and eats it alone, since this kind of market often fails to process purposes that can only be realized together. If she uses mass voting, she can only choose one bowl of porridge which everyone must eat, and she has to run campaigns against those who want raisins on top, no porridge at all, or who eat their porridge cold.

Coming up with alternatives to voting and bilateral contracting is the domain of mechanism design. Goldilocks needs a mechanism that’s just right: one that surfaces purpose-fit groups instead of treating people as isolated individuals or defaulting to a whole-population compromise.

Mechanism designers have some experience here.52 For instance, the U.S. medical residency matching program used to match one member of a couple first and then limit the other to jobs in the same city. This often went badly for couples, and by the late 1970s many of them were finding jobs outside the match. Starting in 1983, couples could rank pairs of jobs instead.53 Another example of a mechanism design for joint outcomes is German Baugruppen — groups of future neighbors who commission an apartment building together. Instead of each buying a unit from a developer, they get cheaper flats that are built around the relationships in their community, with shared gardens and common rooms.54 And there are many more examples in the mechanism design and game theory literature: a hedonic game55 is one in which players have preferences over who they are grouped with; coalition formation, more broadly, means finding groups that benefit from pursuing a strategy together; and synergy is when multiple goods or transactions (such as tickets for a group of friends to attend a concert together) are worth more when combined. Unfortunately, there are many more papers in this area than implementations, and these ideas have barely been applied to consumer markets.56 This is likely because, as mentioned in Purpose-Fit Groups, these kinds of matching mechanisms are harder to monetize.

Joint Outcomes

One such mechanism is outcome-based contracts and impact bonds.57 These attach payments to rich outcomes, rather than delivery of a service. But they are still designed for one buyer at a time. Instead, we can imagine a pool of buyers, represented by AI agents, and a mechanism that posts bounties for shared outcomes amongst them.58

Even impact bonds have been limited by the difficulty of specifying outcomes that are both measurable and meaningful. AI could help by eliciting desires in ordinary language and identifying shared purposes across differently expressed wishes. This could be combined with automated procurement, where AI agents specify requirements, issue collective requests for proposals, compare suppliers’ proposals, and negotiate commitments among participants.

A key question, even with impact bonds, is how to de-risk supplier engagement when outcomes are highly personal and uncertain. This is especially true for relational goods, where the outcome depends on the actions of many people. Risk-sharing mechanisms like performance bonds and amortized insurance can pool this risk, so suppliers can be paid for how they do overall.59

A widower and his daughter, before and after his senior-services pool starts paying providers through a joint, outcome-based contract.

  1. March 2

    Anna

    Dad, when did you last leave the house?

    I’m fine. Evie and I talked till two.

    Anna

    Evie is an app, Dad.

    It lets me talk about your mother.

    Under a bilateral contract, a companion sold to one person does well when he keeps talking. Among widowed members, the heaviest users had the fewest in-person friends two years later.

  2. March 9

    Anna

    My dad’s up till two talking to Evie, his AI companion, and he barely leaves the house. Can the pool do anything about this?

    Carol, Ashby Pool

    We hear you, Anna, and other families have raised the same worry. So we’ve changed what we pay for.

    We’ve joined 29 other pools, 9,000 members in all, on one new contract: two years from enrolling, widowed members see at least three people in person every week.

    Hearth won it, with the community center, a walking club and Rideline. They’re paid on results across all our members, not on how long anyone talks.

    Anna

    Okay, let’s see what gives.

    A joint outcome contract: the Ashby pool, an association of older adults and their families, pays for a result in members’ lives. No one can promise Walter a friend, but across 9,000 members a supplier can take on the risk.

  3. April 6

    Hearth AI

    Did anyone at Thursday’s community center dinner catch your interest?

    I had a lovely talk with Joan.

    Hearth AI

    The walking club is taking her out for a birthday lunch on Saturday, and you’d be welcome. Shall I book you a Rideline for 11:30?

    Go on then. But I’d want to call her first, and I’ve got rusty at this.

    Hearth AI

    Want to rehearse? I’ll be Joan.

    A different companion on a different incentive. Evie does well when Walter keeps talking. Hearth gets paid when members see people, and with the dinner, the walking club and the ride all under one contract, it can line them up.

  4. May 4

    Anna

    Dad, I called twice. Are you OK?

    Sorry, out on the Tuesday walk with Joan, then coffee with Frank. He lost his wife the same year I lost your mother, so we talk about them. Okay if I call you tomorrow morning?

    The profit motive is still there, now pointed at whether a widower has a social life.

Vignette from a near future with joint-outcome markets.

In markets with these kinds of intermediating structures, suppliers can be accountable to buyers’ actual concerns — like whether a widower has a social life, or a family has fun together. Group interests can be discovered and supported, all while retaining the profit motive that drives efficiency and innovation. Without such structures, the supplier who sells something modular to each person gets there first, faces less risk, and has an easier time raising capital.

But we can do even better.

Associational Discovery

Imagine a mechanism that knows about values and commitments across a population. Perhaps it runs broad surveys, looking for collective goals that lack representation. When it finds a cluster with a potentially shared purpose, it could take a sequence of steps60 to test if these similarities could support a joint undertaking. First, it might invite people to join for a single, time-boxed group act,61 such as attending a meeting, running a quick policy experiment, or engaging in some kind of political expression. This would only happen if enough people opt-in.30 If that goes well, commitment could ratchet up towards recurring practices, shared resources, and finally a mandate and purpose-bound property (Purpose-bound property). At each stage, people can revise the proposal, decline it, or proceed only if others do.

A nine-year-old and her mom text, with the neighborhood’s discovery AI in the thread, as her wish for someone to build a fort with becomes a group with land of its own.

  1. April 2

    Nadia

    Mom, can I go to the park alone?

    You’re nine. No.

    Nadia

    Doesn’t matter.

    Nobody’s ever there to build a fort with anyway.

    Nadia wants something only a group can do. A purpose-fit group may well exist nearby, but nothing helps its members find each other.

  2. April 20

    Discovery AI

    I found 38 kids near you who want to build real things in the woods. Nadia is one of them.

    Here’s the idea: on three Saturdays in May, a parent, rotating each week, walks with the kids to the woods behind the water plant and supervises them. I’ll order hand tools and materials, and whatever they build stays up.

    It only happens if 20 families say yes and 10 parents take a turn. Are you in?

    Hm. Okay, I guess that’s fine. I’m in. Can’t do the first Saturday though.

    Nadia

    IS IT ON??

    Discovery AI

    20 families and 10 parents said yes. It’s on.

    Discovery AI finds 38 kids with the same wish and proposes one small, time-boxed act. It happens only if enough families opt in.

  3. May 3

    Nadia

    Walking over with the Amin twins!

    Have fun. Back by 5.

    Nadia

    Mom, you have to come next time! You won’t believe what we built!

    The time-boxed act happens. Discovery AI then checks with the families whether they want to continue. Each step up in commitment is one they can decline.

  4. July 12

    Nadia

    Mom, I’ll be home a bit later. We’re building a new tower and interviewing carpenters!

    You’re what?

    Nadia

    Discovery recommended it to us.

    Discovery AI

    The kids have kept going all summer, and the tower is now taller than they are. I suggested they hire a carpenter to keep it safe and teach them. They’re choosing who.

    Nadia

    We picked Ruth!

    The one-off becomes a weekly practice, and then shared resources, as Discovery AI suggests pooling money for a carpenter.

  5. September 14

    Discovery AI

    Heads up: the kids are deciding on a charter tonight at 7, at the new tower. It says what the group is for, who can join and how they’ll look after the woods. Ruth will be there, and someone from the city.

    Do parents get a vote?

    Discovery AI

    No: the kids vote, but parents can comment.

    The city has accepted the kids’ charter and leased them the woods on stewardship terms: they’re the group’s for as long as they’re used the way the charter says.

    Nadia

    This will be so fun!!

    A mandate and purpose-bound property. The kids write a charter, and the city leases them the woods for as long as they serve it.

Vignette from a near future with associational discovery.

Economic Growth

Right now, about 68% of U.S. GDP is household consumption: people buying food, rent, health care, disposable goods, entertainment, and so on. Another 17% or so is government spending, on schools, roads, defense, and public administration, and about 18% is private investment, in buildings, equipment, software, and research.62 Household consumption keeps the economy closely tied to what people want, and much government spending is close to people too. But that could change if the AI part of the economy grows much faster than the human part.

Even now, segments of the economy diverge from human interests. Some investment ramps up proxies, like the speed of trading algorithms or the clicks on social media feeds. Ramping up these abstract measures is presumed to increase human well-being, but the more abstract the measure, the harder it is to tell.63 Even in the part of the economy that’s counted as household consumption, a good share doesn’t reach us as goods at all: it covers marketing overhead, compliance, defensive corporate spending, and finance.64 Again, it can be hard to tell whether these actually increase human well-being. Some is clearly zero- or negative-sum, like lobbying, litigation, and other arms races,65 or the value substitution loops I described in “Value Drift.”

Autonomous corporations could both lower the percentage of GDP tied to household consumption, and also remove the human oversight that currently unwinds these loops. If so, we get the kind of economic growth Nick Land celebrated, where capital deployments and machine intelligence accelerate away from human ends.66

Telocracy could help: under fidelity, proxy metrics like clicks or citations couldn’t crowd out recognizable purposes. Under epistemic vitality, people would remain in close enough contact with work to intervene when things go off track. More of our AI intelligence would be spent reasoning about mandates and values, not just driving up a number. And mechanisms like purpose-bound property would tie assets, including compute and capital, to purposes, so investment would less often chase abstract metrics and feed negative-sum loops.

To human eyes, this telocratic growth will seem much more like progress, recognizable as furthering various human-relevant purposes, like flourishing schools, cures, restored biodiversity, etc.

Government Agencies and Democratic Mandates

I mentioned that telocratic governance could be an alternative to procedural governance. The idea with procedural governance is to follow a set of rules and procedures to ensure fairness. This has been the best we could do, because it has been impossible to judge cases on their merits consistently, without bias.70

But, if models can apply the same purpose consistently, across locations and populations, using reasoning anyone could check, that could allow a new type of impartiality which affords more dynamism and adapts to changing circumstances.71 This could increase trust in government agencies, which has fallen in many places, like in the U.S.72

Once agencies are staffed by agents, or if human decisions are logged, the public could check an agency’s decisions against its purpose and the outcomes it was entrusted to produce.73 A distrustful Congress or Parliament could also condition agency funding on fidelity to purpose.

Rosa texts her sister about a permit to build a cottage in her backyard for their mother.

  1. March 3

    Applied for a permit to build a small cottage in the backyard for Mom.

    It would sit 3 feet from the back fence, but the rules say we need 5 feet.

    Ana

    Good luck. I thought the city was cracking down on stuff like that.

    Under procedural governance, a rule written for ordinary lots decides an odd one.

  2. March 5

    Approved already. Said we can’t put windows on the side facing the Parks’ yard.

    Ana

    What? Is that a new rule?

    The AI that runs the planning department said the 5-foot rule is there for light and privacy, but since the Parks live south of the cottage, it won’t shade them, and no windows takes care of privacy.

    Ana

    Wow. I guess the AI is better at this than the humans were.

    The planning department’s AI decides the case against the department’s mandate, and explains its reasoning.

Vignette from a near future where agencies decide cases by their mandates.

If government AIs apply mandates as they work, this could be safer: future superintelligent agencies may vastly exceed human officials in prediction, coordination, and policy design. Telocracy could allow this superintelligence to serve the public good as expressed in broad purposes, not just executive interests or political settlements.

Values-Based Deliberations

Government agencies (and some other associations74) may want to update their mandates based on values and purposes that are widely shared. In this case, there needs to be a way to gather up public wisdom related to one purpose or another. Citizens, affected populations, and others with relevant experience could help articulate the agency’s purpose, supply cases that test proposed formulations, and help revise mandates as experience accumulates. This public participation would be richer than commenting on a finished rule.75

AI-aided democratic processes like Moral Graph Elicitation (MGE)76 can help. In MGE, a large population’s values are collected via structured, LLM-facilitated interviews, surfacing the convictions, experiences, and trade-off judgments that citizens hold. The LLM asks participants to surface values they want applied to specific contexts, and also to judge others’ submissions for whether they represent a deeper understanding of a situation.

Two girls holding hands leap from the top of a concrete sea wall toward the sand, their shadows stretched across the wall below them
Martine Franck, Tory Island, Donegal, Ireland (1995). Source.

Conclusion

In the introduction, I brought up several requirements for a new social vision that current proposals fail to answer. Let’s review them in light of what’s been described.

How will humans still find purpose beyond status games, and mix across social divides? At their best, modern lives already contain many sites of purpose: a professional in a modern city might have a job that puts them on purposeful teams around the world, sing medieval music in a choir, and train in capoeira. Meanwhile, their partner prepares for a marathon, and their kid builds robots. Each family member belongs to several communities of purpose, with its own values and community, and is free to move between them.

Let that not be a relic of the age of work! If, under telocracy, there are many more sites of purpose, and it’s easy to find those that fit, we can preserve — and even enhance — that diversity. Associational discovery, epistemic communities, and joint-outcome markets can help people find and sustain the activities and relationships that give their lives meaning, so we still need each other.

What should humans still do, and how can we still learn, grow, and exercise judgement? Under the interpretive and auditing mechanisms of Appendix A, there’s a division of labor: AIs reason about values and actions on our behalf but they don’t substitute for human judgment about what those values should be.77 Humans keep whatever practice they need to remain competent judges of the purposes they care about. (See Appendix C for how to sustain those practices.)

How will humans retain influence over the institutions that shape our lives? Telocracy offers an opinion about which kind of power to retain: the power to shape institutions and to understand, in detail, what goods we are pursuing. It also offers a variety of mechanisms to maintain that power: on the softer end, epistemic communities and deliberative processes keep humans in contact with work, decisions, and values. On the harder end, purpose-bound property and values-rich markets tie economic power to the purposes we care about, and make it difficult for institutions to drift away from them. There are other reasons, not developed here, to think that a telocracy might do well in global economic78 and geopolitical79 competition.

For all these reasons, telocracy seems like a strong candidate for our AI future. But many are hungry for it also on an individual level: not everyone finds purpose and meaning in what modern life provides. Especially those who work in industries prone to value drift seem to be searching for something more. I believe this is what Wolf Tivy means when he writes about his peers “trapped in some kind of propaganda complex, wasting their lives working for effectively nothing.” Those of us who have been lucky enough to find purpose in our work may not realize how many people don’t enjoy the same privilege.

I can’t think of a better way to address that than telocracy, which — as I said in the beginning — gives citizens much more power to name their own purposes and to shape institutions that serve them.

Perhaps the most exciting thing telocracy offers is the chance to decide: What do we care about? What’s worth doing together?


Appendices: A. Specifying Mandates · B. Purpose Review · C. Epistemic Communities

Footnotes

  1. Clara Collier, “After Work, We’ll Have Each Other,” Asterisk 15. ↩

  2. My previous essay, “Value Drift,” describes how this happens: the metrics and incentives inside an institution drift away from the values it is supposed to serve, because of inarticulacy in the metrics, the desire of managers to score well on them, and various external pressures. ↩

  3. Paul Hirst’s “associative democracy” is one example. He advocated that “as many social activities as possible should be devolved to self-governing voluntary associations,” with members free to exit and move between them (Associative Democracy, 1994; “Renewing Democracy through Associations,” Political Quarterly 73, 2002). Joshua Cohen and Joel Rogers had a related account of “secondary associations,” and Veit Bader later applied associative democracy to religious diversity (Secularism or Democracy?, 2007). Earlier, Tocqueville wrote about American associations in both volumes of Democracy in America, and Figgis and Laski argued that such groups have a life of their own rather than existing at the state’s pleasure (Figgis, Churches in the Modern State, 1913; Laski, “The Personality of Associations,” Harvard Law Review 29, 1916). A parallel lineage runs through conservative and communitarian thought: Burke’s little platoons, Kuyper’s sphere sovereignty, Catholic subsidiarity, Nisbet’s The Quest for Community (1953), and Walzer’s Spheres of Justice (1983). ↩

  4. G. D. H. Cole’s definition is close to mine: an association is “any group of persons pursuing a common purpose or system or aggregation of purposes by a course of co-operative action extending beyond a single act, and, for this purpose, agreeing together upon certain methods of procedure, and laying down, in however rudimentary a form, rules for common action” (Social Theory, 1920, ch. 2). ↩

  5. Below we’ll describe two principles for when a purpose should be revised, legitimate deepening and living commitments, and then Appendix A will give a more detailed account of how these distinctions can be made in practice. ↩

  6. Prices do put some authority in people’s hands, but one purchase at a time. They work well for goods we each use separately, and less well for things we can only get together, or that need several suppliers to coordinate around one household. See Values-Rich Markets & Matching. ↩

  7. Local government is one place where associationalism is already somewhat in effect: people who share a region can organize themselves to govern it, though it’s a limited and oddly compulsory form of association. ↩

  8. Not to be confused with Michael Oakeshott’s “teleocracy,” a state that pursues one substantive purpose and enlists all its subjects in it. Here, there are many diverse and overlapping purposes, bubbling up from the bottom, and people choose which ones to join. ↩

  9. Critics of associationalism have argued that associations reproduce existing inequalities, because the quickest to form are among people with time and money to spare, and that they become vehicles for faction (see the next note). Many of these objections were pressed in the responses to Joshua Cohen and Joel Rogers collected in Associations and Democracy (Verso, 1995), with chapters by Claus Offe, Jane Mansbridge, Philippe Schmitter, Wolfgang Streeck, Iris Marion Young, and others. ↩

  10. A sectional conflict is over who gets what. If associations are accountable simply to their current members, officers, or funders, then decentralizing power into associations can create more sites for sectional interests to organize and fight over resources. Appendix A’s tests are meant to tell whether a mandate articulates a purpose rather than just laundering a demand for one particular group’s interests into a claim about what matters. ↩

  11. For more on how AI can worsen these problems, see Kulveit, Douglas, Ammann, Turan, Krueger, and Duvenaud, “Gradual Disempowerment: Systemic Existential Risks from Incremental AI Development” (2025). ↩

  12. Anthropic, “Claude’s Constitution” (2026). On training a model against a written constitution, see Bai et al., “Constitutional AI: Harmlessness from AI Feedback” (2022). ↩

  13. In Appendix A, several levels of abstraction for a school mandate are explored. This example of a thinner mandate falls into the “evolutionary” level. ↩

  14. OpenAI, for instance, now has monitors read the reasoning and tool use of its most capable models during every training run and evaluation, and in every session of its internal coding agents, looking for deception and unauthorized actions. Flagged cases go to investigator agents and then to staff, and the most serious can pause the work automatically (“How we detect frontier model misalignment,” 2026). ↩

  15. This gives a telocratic society another way to equalize things, besides neoliberalism’s “level playing field” or rights enforced by the state. ↩

  16. Robert Nisbet, The Quest for Community (1953); Robert Putnam, Bowling Alone (2000). Patrick Deneen, in Why Liberalism Failed (2018), argues that liberalism itself erodes these institutions, through both the state and the market. ↩

  17. Another part of the reason is that markets and states run on information that travels easily, like prices, votes, and rules, while associations depend on knowing what particular people care about, and on volunteers’ time. AI changes the cost structure here. AI also makes it easier to hold associations accountable to their purposes, which makes it more likely they can be trusted with big functions and public money. ↩

  18. See Appendix A for a ladder of abstraction for mandates. ↩

  19. European corporate systems often weaken shareholder primacy, but the principal alternative is stakeholder governance: giving workers, members, citizens, creditors, or other affected groups greater standing. German Aktienrecht, for example, gives the management board independent responsibility for directing the company and codetermination and other continental arrangements give constituencies besides capital a formal role. ↩

  20. A Delaware public-benefit corporation must name a public benefit in its charter, and its directors must manage it in a way that balances that benefit against stockholders’ financial interests and the interests of those materially affected. But the purpose has no independent representative: its interpretation and pursuit stay with the board, and only stockholders holding at least 2% of shares (or, for listed companies, $2 million worth) can sue to enforce the balancing duty. See the IRS organizational requirements and Delaware Code tit. 8, §§ 362–367. ↩

  21. The phrase goes back to mortmain, the medieval term for land held in perpetuity by the church and other corporations, which the English Statutes of Mortmain (from 1279) tried to limit. Property law has fought the dead hand ever since, through the rule against perpetuities and, for charities, the cy-près doctrine (see Appendix B). Thanks to Nick Caputo for pressing this point. ↩

  22. There’s precedent in commercial law: a merchant’s sale carries a warranty that the goods are fit for their ordinary purpose (UCC §2-314), with content supplied by “usage of trade” (§1-303), what participants in a trade understand that kind of transaction to involve. Courts have also supported implied terms: Javins v. First National Realty, 428 F.2d 1071 (D.C. Cir. 1970), read a warranty of habitability into urban residential leases, because tenants were buying “a well known package of goods and services.” Many states, including New York, later made that warranty non-waivable by statute. Helen Nissenbaum’s “contextual integrity” makes a similar argument about personal information: when people share it in a context like a doctor’s visit or a friendship, the norms of that context come with it, and a later use can violate them even when it’s legal (Privacy in Context, 2010). ↩

  23. E.g., in situations where participants cannot easily monitor performance and cannot exit without loss. ↩

  24. Early American corporations were chartered by state legislatures for specific purposes like building a bridge or operating a canal, and charters could be revoked when these purposes weren’t served. Patent and copyright law grant monopolies to encourage innovation and creative work, and broadcast licenses carry public interest obligations. But currently, patent holders face no meaningful test; general incorporation statutes in the mid-nineteenth century made chartering automatic and largely unconditional; most importantly, brands — which function as public commitments to quality, care, or trustworthiness — are bought, sold, and hollowed out without accountability to the values they represent. ↩

  25. Today, a model like Claude is asked to weigh whether an individual request is good for the user and the world. When the request comes from an organization chasing a KPI, that puts the model in an odd position: it has to second-guess the organization’s metrics, using whatever context it can infer from one request, one document, or one piece of code. This is impossible. An effect may be problematic only when summed across millions of users, for instance. And even if models do refuse or question individual requests, most organizations will respond by switching vendors or fine-tuning so the model won’t get in the way of their numbers. By hoisting such judgments up to the organization level, telocratic governance allows alignment of the organization, and the AI agents acting for it can be at peace with the overall purpose. ↩

  26. This is part of why the associations we do have are mostly based on where people live or what job they hold. ↩

  27. Here, the account parts from communitarianism, which generally takes the community as given and inherited. ↩

  28. One such group is reliant third parties: people who have entrusted something to the institution but don’t share its purpose. Under living commitments (above), the mandate may owe them commitments, and they may have standing on breach (Appendix B). Their consent could be required before those commitments are released or reduced, or they could co-author the parts of the mandate that concern what they entrusted. Other affected third parties are protected by general law. ↩

  29. A precedent is the US Adoption Incentive Program, created in 1997. State child welfare agencies, which match children in foster care with adoptive parents, get $4,000 for each adoption above their previous baseline, and more for older children and children with special needs. Adoptions from foster care rose from 31,030 in 1997 to 50,950 in 2002 (Congressional Research Service, report RL32296, 2004). ↩

  30. Provision-point mechanisms: Bagnoli and Lipman (1989), Review of Economic Studies; dominant assurance contracts: Tabarrok (1998), Public Choice. ↩ ↩2

  31. Sometimes companies also can be considered purpose-fit groups among employees or customers, but most often customers remain unaware of one another, employees are not really purpose aligned, and the company as a whole is re-aligned away from purpose. Often the founding group is purpose-fit, but the firm’s legal and commercial form dilutes it. Firms usually contract with each customer separately (see Values-Rich Markets & Matching), and staff and investors are often found through the labor and capital markets rather than chosen for purpose fit. Staying purpose-fit gets harder as a company grows. Telocratic governance and purpose-bound property (below) can help. ↩

  32. To find these patterns, a mechanism has to tell when two people who use different words care about the same thing, and when two people using the same word don’t. Appendix A describes a way of recording values, as “values cards,” that makes this possible. ↩

  33. Cai and Szeidl, “Interfirm Relationships and Business Performance” (Quarterly Journal of Economics, 2018), experimentally created business associations that improved firm performance and generated continuing relationships; they identify organizing costs falling on a single participant as one possible reason such groups had not formed unaided. In Mali, Beaman, Karlan, and Thuysbaert (2014, NBER working paper) randomized additional training and certification for women tasked with starting new savings groups: participation was seven percentage points higher than under informal support alone. Heitzig and O’Keeffe-O’Donovan (World Development, 2024) likewise find little spontaneous replication of promoted savings groups in Uganda and Malawi. These findings suggest that supplying organizational work, know-how, and credibility can enable associations that prospective members do not readily create for themselves. ↩

  34. U.S. law already requires that an agency be given an “intelligible principle,” but no one checks its decisions against it. J. W. Hampton, Jr., & Co. v. United States, 276 U.S. 394 (1928). The Supreme Court has struck down a delegation under it only twice, both in 1935, and has upheld standards as broad as “public interest, convenience, or necessity” (National Broadcasting Co. v. United States, 319 U.S. 190, 1943). ↩

  35. The word has a history in legal theory, where it usually means fidelity to law: to a text’s original meaning, for originalists and textualists; to its meaning carried into changed circumstances, in Lawrence Lessig’s “Fidelity in Translation” (Texas Law Review 71, 1993) and Fidelity & Constraint (2019); or to the principles that best justify a body of law, in Ronald Dworkin’s “law as integrity” (Law’s Empire, 1986). ↩

  36. Facebook internally had a metric that estimated how likely new close friendships were to form, or existing ones to deepen, derived by tracking how often events or groups led to friendships and messaging, and then training a classifier to predict that from other user data. It was a realistic measure of human connection, but it didn’t line up well with retention and advertising goals. In 2018, the News Feed team began ranking by “Meaningful Social Interactions” instead, which scored likes, reactions, reshares, and comments. This is exactly what fidelity could prevent. ↩

  37. Philip Selznick was worried about how organizations lose their character. In his study of the Tennessee Valley Authority, he showed how it ran its farm programs through local groups to win their support, and the programs came to serve those groups’ interests (TVA and the Grass Roots, 1949). His remedy was institutional leadership: a statesman who embodies purpose, defends institutional integrity, and makes the character-defining choices (Leadership in Administration, 1957). Fidelity as a principle asks the same of an institution without making it depend on who leads it. ↩

  38. In property law, this is a fee simple determinable, or a fee simple subject to a condition subsequent. ↩

  39. A company that licenses its brand has to police the quality of what’s sold under it, or risk losing the trademark. Under U.S. trademark law, a license without quality control is a “naked license,” and can count as abandoning the mark; see Dawn Donut Co. v. Hart’s Food Stores, 267 F.2d 358 (2d Cir. 1959). Franchise agreements exist partly to meet this duty. And cloud providers already attach acceptable-use policies to compute. ↩

  40. These auditors could be independent firms, professional associations, or certification bodies in the relevant domain, so long as they aren’t paid by the institution being audited or by anyone who would benefit from a finding either way. A useful model might be ICANN’s Uniform Domain-Name Dispute-Resolution Policy (UDRP): WIPO alone has resolved more than 80,000 domain-name disputes through private panels, enforced contractually by registrars, with courts as a rarely used backstop. ↩

  41. Purpose-bound property might fit better than organizational forms like public-benefit corporations, because with purpose-bound property, founders, staff, and the business entity can still pivot freely, and the question is just whether certain assets, like the brand, will be retained. ↩

  42. Such as brands, userbases, or deals which wouldn’t have happened under the new purpose. ↩

  43. Or, if the purpose has expired, to something close that’s still worth serving (see cy-près in Appendix B). ↩

  44. Some readers will worry this rules out unions, and partly it does. Richard Freeman and James Medoff distinguished a union’s “monopoly face,” which raises members’ wages above what they’d otherwise be, from its “collective voice” face, which gives workers a way to raise problems besides quitting (What Do Unions Do?, 1984). A union whose purpose is safety, training, mutual aid, or a say in how the work is done would qualify as plausibly positive-sum, but neither a union trying to get a bigger share of revenue, nor an employer’s campaign against it, would qualify. (U.S. law already treats unions, lobbies, and campaigns differently from charities.) ↩

  45. Each dispute could cap both sides’ compute, so neither gains by escalating, and compute for mediation could be cheap or free. Disputes over who should own what, or whose interests should prevail, etc. can also be pursued via ordinary politics and law. ↩

  46. Airlines do something similar at busy airports. Under EU rules, a carrier that doesn’t use most of its takeoff and landing slots can lose them, so airlines sometimes fly near-empty “ghost flights” to keep them. In early 2022, Lufthansa said it would fly 18,000 extra flights that winter for this reason. ↩

  47. Some shared activities do well in markets, like gyms, climbing gyms, and the run clubs that brands now sponsor. These work because they can be sold to each person as a membership, or paid for as marketing. When it matters who else is in the group, or there’s nothing to sell to each person, markets fail to coordinate. ↩

  48. Carole Uhlaner introduced “relational goods” for goods that can only be enjoyed together with particular others (“‘Relational Goods’ and Participation,” Public Choice 62, 1989); Benedetto Gui developed the idea independently around the same time. James Buchanan’s club goods are a nearby idea, but for Buchanan what matters is how many people share a good, since crowding lowers its value, not who they are (“An Economic Theory of Clubs,” Economica 32, 1965). ↩

  49. Markets coordinate long supply chains well when one firm at the end sells a finished, replicable product and subcontracts the rest. But no firm sells “Mom can stay at home,” or “sees three people a week,” so no one takes on the whole outcome and subcontracts the parts. ↩

  50. Transaction costs make it expensive to discover and coordinate the thicker bundles of values people share; providers therefore address only the most replicable component of demand. ↩

  51. See Nisbet, cited above. The same absorption happens through markets. ↩

  52. One example is group-activity selection, where people report not just which activity they’d join but at what group sizes (a bus trip only if ten people go, a seminar only if it stays small), and the procedure forms viable groups (Darmann et al., 2018). Another is school-choice matching, where families rank schools and the rule forms several student bodies at once (Abdulkadiroğlu and Sönmez, 2003). ↩

  53. Alvin Roth, “The Evolution of the Labor Market for Medical Interns and Residents: A Case Study in Game Theory,” Journal of Political Economy 92(6), 1984. The match was redesigned again in the late 1990s, and the new one had to handle couples too (Alvin Roth and Elliott Peranson, “The Redesign of the Matching Market for American Physicians,” American Economic Review 89(4), 1999). ↩

  54. Iqbal Hamiduddin and Nick Gallent, “Self-Build Communities: The Rationale and Experiences of Group-Build (Baugruppen) Housing Development in Germany,” Housing Studies 31, no. 4 (2016): 365–383. ↩

  55. Drèze and Greenberg (1980), Econometrica; Bogomolnaia and Jackson (2002), Games and Economic Behavior; group-activity selection (Darmann et al., cited above) adds the activity. The advance here is upstream: identity conditions for the values a group forms around, so that clusters track shared purpose rather than shared demographics or vocabulary. ↩

  56. Group-buying mechanisms have exploited economies of scale, not social synergies; collective commissioning has precedent in participatory budgeting and cooperative housing, but not in consumer markets more generally; and the great majority of the more ambitious work remains theoretical or has only been tested in computational experiments. ↩

  57. In social impact bonds, a government pays investors if a program reaches agreed outcomes. ↩

  58. Edelman, “Combinatorial Risk-Sharing Auctions” (forthcoming). ↩

  59. A supplier can’t control whether any one widow makes new friends, but across 9,000 members it can estimate what fraction will. The pool, in turn, can learn from outcome data what different configurations are worth. ↩

  60. Ostrom, Governing the Commons (1990): long-enduring commons regimes arise through small initial agreements whose demonstrated success lowers the cost of agreeing to more. ↩

  61. Bruce Sterling’s story “Maneki Neko” (1998) imagines something close to this. ↩

  62. Net exports are slightly negative, around −3%. “Government spending” here means government consumption and investment. It doesn’t count transfers like Social Security, and health care paid for by Medicare and Medicaid counts as household consumption. Personal consumption has been roughly 60–70% of U.S. GDP since the 1950s (Bureau of Economic Analysis, NIPA Table 1.1.10). ↩

  63. Thomas Philippon finds that the unit cost of U.S. financial intermediation has stayed roughly constant for over a century, despite enormous advances in information technology (“Has the US Finance Industry Become Less Efficient?”, American Economic Review 105, 2015). ↩

  64. GDP counts only final goods, so these business-to-business services don’t show up as a separate slice. They’re included in the 68%, as part of what consumer goods cost. ↩

  65. One kind of arms race pits spam against spam filters, fraud against fraud detection, SEO against search ranking, and they all grow together. High-frequency trading offers another example. Around 2010, Spread Networks laid a fiber-optic cable between Chicago and New York, reportedly for about $300 million, to cut about four milliseconds off trading times. Within a few years, microwave networks were faster still. See Michael Lewis, Flash Boys (2014). ↩

  66. Nick Land, “Meltdown” (1994), collected in Fanged Noumena (2011). Land welcomed this trajectory. Kulveit et al.’s “Gradual Disempowerment” describes much the same one and argues it would be a catastrophe. Telocratic growth is the economic side of what we’ve previously called full-stack alignment: aligning AI and institutions together, using thick models of value (see Appendix A, and Edelman et al., “Full-Stack Alignment,” 2025). ↩

  67. This is the Bolam test, from Bolam v. Friern Hospital Management Committee [1957] 1 WLR 582. Bolitho v. City and Hackney Health Authority [1998] AC 232 later added that the body’s opinion has to stand up to logical analysis, which is roughly the role auditors would play here. ↩

  68. This is one reason value substitution loops are so hard to reverse: the loop degrades the very capacity that would be needed to notice it. We have all met people who have themselves been thinned out by influencer-incentives, sales quotas, etc. ↩

  69. MacIntyre’s remedy for institutional corruption of practices was the virtues of those who hold institutional roles and, later, small local communities that sustain practices directly (After Virtue, 1981, ch. 14 and 18; Dependent Rational Animals, 1999). Appendix C keeps the community of practice and drops the smallness: AI-assisted interpretation lets its standards be applied at scales mostly outside of MacIntyre’s scope. ↩

  70. This is the old trade-off in law between rules and standards: standards fit cases better, but are costly to apply consistently (Louis Kaplow, “Rules Versus Standards: An Economic Analysis,” Duke Law Journal 42, 1992). Anthony Casey and Anthony Niblett argue that predictive technology changes this trade-off (“The Death of Rules and Standards,” Indiana Law Journal 92, 2017). ↩

  71. Nonet and Selznick’s “responsive law” is legal ordering oriented to purpose rather than rule (Law and Society in Transition, 1978). They worried that it would collapse into either rule-bound formalism or unbounded discretion. Mandate records are meant to avoid both: they’re written down and can be checked, so discretion is bounded, but they’re about purposes, so they can be applied to cases no one anticipated. ↩

  72. In September 2025, only 17% of Americans said they trust the government in Washington to do what is right just about always or most of the time (Pew Research Center, “Public Trust in Government: 1958–2025,” December 2025). ↩

  73. See Nick Caputo (“AGI’s Bureaucratic Future,” Pax Machina). ↩

  74. Such as those whose purposes are held by a broad public, like public broadcasters, universities, hospitals, or AI labs writing constitutions for their models. ↩

  75. And it could keep government mandates from becoming technocratic artifacts or the detritus of political settlements. ↩

  76. Trials of Moral Graph Elicitation (MGE) with representative samples provide preliminary evidence that deeper domain experience in relevant values can be detected and recognized by a broader population, and that wiser values are seen as legitimate even by those who hold different values. Participants asked to evaluate which values reflect deeper understanding of a situation converge on values held by those with the most direct domain experience, without anyone defining in advance who those people are. Participants whose own values ranked as less wise overwhelmingly accepted the outcome as fair (89%). See Klingefjord, Lowe, and Edelman, “What Are Human Values, and How Do We Align AI to Them?” (2024). ↩

  77. Assuming that future AIs are not just superintelligent, but also superwise, they may have something to teach us about values. If we can be sure they aren’t also being superpersuasive — perhaps because we have developed evals that show whether users are using their own good judgment — then the hope is that these superwise AIs can participate with us in telocratic deliberation, but not replace us, and that we can cooperate with them on moral progress. ↩

  78. I’ve mentioned that telocratic growth will likely appear as greater progress to human eyes, because it will be more closely tied to human purposes, and will therefore be supported by human migration, investment, and politics — so long as these things still matter at the time. Another factor is the virality of telocratic institutions — much like their neoliberal counterparts, they can spread easily across borders. It may be that economies are substantially telocratic before most states even begin to move in that direction, and that the first movers will have a competitive advantage. ↩

  79. While the authors of “Gradual Disempowerment” focus on military power, much of a state’s geopolitical power comes from its ability to shape the international order, which is why states spend so much on public diplomacy and soft power. International bodies write the rules everyone else has to trade, borrow, and build under. A country left out of the trading system, or a bank cut off from SWIFT, loses much of its reach, and the same will probably be true for AI agents, which will need recognized standing to act across borders. If human populations prefer telocratic growth, telocratic states may gain this kind of power, and new international bodies may form around them (global registries of mandates, certifiers of auditors, cross-border purpose review), deciding which institutions, and which agents, get to take part. ↩