Seize the Means of Community

Communitarium Project – III

Combatting “Idiotism” and Rebuilding Our Collective Life Through the Communitarium Project

One of the greatest challenges in building alternatives to the capitalist lifestyle is confronting the way in which our very ability to participate meaningfully in society has been eroded. Neal Curtis, in his book Idiotism: Capitalism and the Privatization of Life, describes how capitalism has systematically “privatized” our social existence, reducing our capacity to engage with others and view ourselves as part of a collective. Curtis argues that this privatization creates what he calls idiotism—not in the pejorative sense of the word, but derived from the Greek idiotes, meaning someone who is concerned only with their private affairs and removed from public life.

In this post, we explore how the Communitarium Project seeks to combat idiotism by rebuilding the collective sphere of life. In a world where our attention, relationships, and communities are constantly commodified, communitaria offer an alternative that reclaims these basic human needs for collective good, restoring meaning to our interactions and relationships beyond their market value. Through this process, we can confront the capitalist forces that keep us isolated, hyper-individualized, and disconnected from our ability to act collectively.

Idiotism: The Privatization of Life

Under capitalism, we are increasingly encouraged to live as isolated individuals. The idea of being part of a community, or seeing oneself as responsible to and for others, has been replaced by the imperative to compete, consume, and maximize personal gain. Curtis’ notion of idiotism captures how capitalism shrinks the scope of our lives, directing our energies inward toward private concerns—our careers, our purchases, our individual successes—at the expense of any sense of broader solidarity or public responsibility.

Idiotism is more than just a retreat from civic engagement; it is a fundamental reshaping of how we experience the world. As consumers, we are trained to view everything through the lens of individual utility. Our relationships, attention, and time become commodities to be bought, sold, and optimized for personal benefit. Even basic human capacities like trust, cooperation, and care for others are reshaped into transactional, market-driven interactions.

In this way, idiotism dovetails with the capitalist lifestyle. Under the current hegemonic system, people are often unaware that their daily choices and actions—far from being “free”—are deeply shaped by capitalist ideologies that prioritize individualism, consumption, and competition. Our sense of solidarity and shared purpose is eroded, replaced by a world where public life is minimized, and we retreat into our own private spheres.

The Communitarium as a Solution to Idiotism

The Communitarium Project seeks to confront this privatization by rebuilding public, collective spaces for meaning generation and social life. In contrast to idiotism, communitaria offer a lifestyle that is rooted in community, cooperation, and shared responsibility. Rather than seeing themselves as isolated consumers, members of a communitarium experience a way of living that is grounded in mutual aid, collaboration, and care for others.

Within communitaria, people actively engage in the governance, management, and nurturing of their communities. The spaces themselves are designed to foster these connections. Whether they are physical, digital, or a blend of both, communitaria provide a platform where people can contribute to and benefit from collective life. From shared resources to cooperative decision-making, these communities offer a radical alternative to the privatized existence that capitalism promotes.

One of the key ways the communitarium combats idiotism is by providing structures where people can see the tangible results of their cooperation. For example, instead of relying on corporate-owned services to meet their needs, communitarium members might collectively grow food, run community kitchens, or develop shared housing. This fosters a sense of ownership and responsibility that goes beyond individual consumption and helps people recognize the power of collective action.

Reclaiming the Intimate Processes of Social Life

In the first post, we discussed how capitalism has “fracked” the most intimate processes of social reality—our trust, attention, and ability to cooperate—and turned them into resources to be exploited at scale. This not only commodifies our relationships but also distorts the very nature of what it means to be human. Under capitalism, our ability to connect with others is repurposed into something transactional, which strips away the deeper meanings that can only be found in genuine, non-market-driven interactions.

The Communitarium Project offers a space to reclaim these processes. By building communities that prioritize human connection over market value, communitaria restore the capacity for trust, cooperation, and solidarity. Members of a communitarium are not competing with each other for scarce resources or trying to maximize personal gain; instead, they are building a community that supports collective well-being. This restores the schmooze-level social reality—the day-to-day interactions and meaning-making processes that form the bedrock of human life, but which have been so deeply exploited under capitalism.

Communitaria create the conditions for these basic social processes to thrive by removing the incentives for competition and consumption. They offer a space where people can focus on mutual support, shared goals, and collective decision-making. In doing so, they actively counteract the hyper-individualism that capitalism encourages and create a culture where solidarity and cooperation are valued over personal gain.

Resisting Hyper-Individualism Through Solidarity

One of the most insidious effects of idiotism is the way it isolates us, making collective action seem impossible. The idea of solidarity—of acting together for mutual benefit—feels foreign to many people who have been trained to see themselves as competitors in a zero-sum game. This hyper-individualism not only impedes our ability to work together but also leaves us vulnerable to exploitation, as we are less able to organize and demand better conditions for ourselves and our communities.

The Communitarium Project directly challenges this by creating spaces where solidarity is not just a theoretical concept but a lived reality. In a communitarium, members see firsthand how their collective efforts can create positive change. Whether it’s through shared governance, resource pooling, or mutual support systems, communitaria provide a model for how people can come together to meet their needs without relying on the market or the state.

Over time, as more people experience life in a communitarium, the capitalist narrative of hyper-individualism begins to break down. People start to see that cooperation is not only possible but preferable—that solidarity can provide security and fulfillment in ways that capitalism cannot. The communitarium becomes a seedbed for new forms of social organization, where people learn to trust each other again, where mutual aid replaces competition, and where collective well-being is prioritized over individual gain.

Toward a Collective Future

Ultimately, the Communitarium Project represents a bold vision for combatting idiotism and reclaiming our collective life. By creating spaces where people can reconnect with one another and with the deeper, non-commodified processes of social reality, communitaria offer a real alternative to the privatized existence that capitalism promotes. They provide a model for how we can live differently, rooted in solidarity, cooperation, and mutual aid.

As these communities grow and proliferate, they have the potential to erode the capitalist structures that keep us isolated and disconnected. The more people experience the value of collective life, the less they will be drawn to the hyper-individualism of capitalism. In this way, communitaria offer a path toward a future where idiotism is replaced by a renewed sense of shared purpose and public life—a future where solidarity and cooperation are not just ideals but realities.

In the next post, we will explore how the Communitarium Project can scale up these efforts and create lasting, structural change that extends beyond individual communities. By building networks of communitaria, we can begin to lay the groundwork for a new way of organizing society—one that prioritizes human connection, collective responsibility, and the common good. Stay tuned for more on how we can bring this vision to life.

The Communitarium Project – II

Imagining a New Way of Life: From Capitalist Erosion to Real Utopias

[What follows was largely generated by ChatGPT, after extensive prompting by me. It conveys my basic thoughts pretty well but... ChatGPT is prone to a style I call 'corporate rah-rah', stating as certainty things I am more comfortable proclaiming as possibilities. I have, in one place below, crossed out ChatGPT's phrasing and substituted my own. Elsewhere I have inserted my own writing — surrounded by brackets. I have not made as many changes as I deem warranted but those changes I have made should be enough to give you an idea of how I would do so.

One big point I should make clear: Although in what follows it is sometimes unclear, my immediate vision of the Communitarium Project is strictly one of the forging of online spaces. I thinks such spaces can serve as think tanks, laboratories, prototypes, and staging grounds for the larger projects of “capitalist erosion” which will be required in the real world. I also believe that, in important ways, the online world is more vulnerable to collective action than are institutions of the real world, something which I believe the rise of TikTok demonstrates.

And now, our feature presentation: ]

Introduction

If the first step in resisting the capitalist lifestyle is recognizing it for what it is, the next step is imagining alternatives. What does it mean to live differently? And how do we create spaces where people can experience a lifestyle that doesn’t revolve around productivity, consumption, and individual competition?

In this post, we explore how the Communitarium Project can foster a new way of living by drawing on the ideas of Erik Olin Wright, particularly his notions of “real utopias” and “capitalist erosion.” Wright’s work provides a useful framework for understanding how small, intentional efforts can challenge capitalism and create viable alternatives, even within the system itself.

The Power of Real Utopias

Erik Olin Wright’s concept of “real utopias” starts from a simple but radical premise: Utopian thinking—envisioning a better, more just world—isn’t just a matter of fantasy or speculative fiction. Instead, utopian ideals can guide the creation of real-world institutions, practices, and communities that embody those ideals. Wright believed that we can experiment with different forms of organization and social relations that represent the values we want to see flourish in society. These experiments might start small, but their success lies in their ability to demonstrate that alternatives to capitalism are not only possible but desirable.

A “real utopia” is a space where cooperation, equity, and collective well-being are prioritized over competition and profit. It’s a place where the values that often seem out of reach in a capitalist society—solidarity, mutual aid, sustainability—are made tangible. Wright believed that real utopias could act as prefigurative models, showing that a different world is possible even within the constraints of our current system.

The Communitarium Project is, in essence, a real utopia. It envisions intentional communities—both physical and digital—where people can organize their lives around principles that subvert the capitalist logic. Within communitaria, the lifestyle isn’t driven by market incentives or individual gain, but by cooperation and shared responsibility. These communities offer a lived experience of an alternative way of life, not as an abstract theory but as a tangible, practical reality.

Capitalist Erosion: Chipping Away at the System

Wright’s idea of “capitalist erosion” refers to the process by which alternative institutions gradually weaken the hold of capitalism by providing functional, attractive alternatives to capitalist structures. Rather than waiting for a revolutionary overthrow of the system, capitalist erosion suggests that the slow, steady growth of non-capitalist practices can undercut capitalism’s dominance.

One key mechanism of capitalist erosion is the creation of spaces where people can meet their needs in ways that do not rely on capitalist markets. This is where the Communitarium Project plays a critical role can play a role. By building communities based on collective ownership, shared resources, and cooperative decision-making, communitaria [can] erode the capitalist lifestyle by offering an alternative that is not only feasible but preferable. The more people engage with these spaces, the more they begin to see that capitalism is not the only option.

For example, within a communitarium, members might [,eventually,] collectively own resources, such as housing, food production systems, or even digital infrastructure. [More immediately, they can certainly undertake to create and own their own digital platforms. ] Decisions about how to allocate resources are made democratically, prioritizing the collective well-being of the group over profit or individual gain. In doing so, the communitarium offers an alternative to the hyper-individualism and consumerism of capitalist life. It shows that people can meet their needs through solidarity and cooperation rather than competition and accumulation.

Over time, as more people participate in communitaria and other non-capitalist spaces, the dominance of capitalist institutions can be eroded. This is not to say that capitalism will disappear overnight, but that its hold on everyday life can be weakened as people find ways to live outside its logic. The proliferation of real utopias—like the communitarium—can slowly undermine the capitalist system by providing functional alternatives that chip away at its monopoly on organizing social life.

Creating the Conditions for Capitalist Erosion

One of the most important tasks of the Communitarium Project is to create the conditions for capitalist erosion to take place. This means not only establishing communitaria but also making them accessible and attractive to people who are accustomed to living within a capitalist framework. It’s important to recognize that most people living a capitalist lifestyle aren’t actively choosing it—they’re simply responding to the incentives and constraints of the world around them. The challenge is to create spaces where different incentives and constraints exist, so people can experience a new way of living without feeling like they have to “opt out” of the system.

This is where Wright’s concept of “interstitial transformation” becomes useful. Rather than seeking to confront capitalism head-on, interstitial transformation involves building alternative practices within the cracks and margins of the system. The Communitarium Project aims to build these “cracks” by creating spaces where people can experiment with new ways of organizing their lives—ways that are not bound by the logic of the market but instead prioritize human connection, mutual aid, and sustainability.

For example, a communitarium might offer a platform for resource-sharing that operates outside of traditional market mechanisms. People could share tools, skills, or even housing in ways that prioritize collective well-being over individual gain. In doing so, they are participating in a small-scale version of what a post-capitalist world could look like, while also weakening capitalism’s grip on their lives.

Living the Alternative

The most powerful aspect of the Communitarium Project is that it allows people to live the alternative, rather than merely theorize about it. One of the challenges in confronting capitalism is that it feels so all-encompassing, so totalizing, that imagining life beyond it can seem impossible. But real utopias like communitaria show that another way of life is not only imaginable but already happening.

The key to capitalist erosion lies in making this alternative lifestyle accessible, attractive, and sustainable. As more people come to see the value of cooperation, mutual aid, and shared responsibility, the capitalist lifestyle will begin to feel less inevitable. In the next posts, we’ll explore how the Communitarium Project can build the structures and networks necessary to make this new way of living a reality for more people, and how the gradual erosion of capitalist norms can open the door to a more just and sustainable world.

Stay tuned as we delve into the specific practices, values, and structures that communitaria can offer, and how these real utopias can grow and proliferate to create lasting change.

The Communitarium Project – I

Living the “Capitalist Lifestyle” Without Knowing It

Introduction

Most of us don’t wake up each day and consciously decide to live according to capitalist values. In fact, many people don’t even think about their daily decisions in terms of capitalism. We simply make the best choices we can—about what jobs to take, what products to buy, how to spend our time—based on what’s available to us. Yet, whether we realize it or not, we’re living within a “capitalist lifestyle.” This doesn’t mean we’re all rabid defenders of capitalism, but rather that the systems of incentives, constraints, and ideas that shape our lives overwhelmingly favor and reinforce capitalist structures.

Let’s break this down. The capitalist lifestyle refers to more than just engaging in a market economy or holding certain political beliefs. It’s a pattern of living that centers on productivity, consumption, and individual achievement. These values have become so deeply embedded in our culture that we rarely stop to question them, much less recognize that they belong to a particular system. Instead, they feel like “just the way things are.” We work hard to achieve personal success (or even just to keep our heads above water), compete with others to get ahead, and consume products and services to meet our needs or improve our status. The world is built to reward these behaviors, so naturally, we follow along.

The Invisible Hand of Capitalist Incentives

What’s crucial here is that most people living within this capitalist framework don’t necessarily know they’re doing so. It’s not a matter of choosing to support a capitalist system out of ideological commitment; it’s simply the way the world around us operates. From an early age, we are taught to measure success in terms of financial gain, professional advancement, and personal achievement. Schools train us for competitive careers, workplaces reward us for maximizing productivity, and the broader culture celebrates consumption as a form of self-expression. These incentives are so pervasive that we often accept them without a second thought.

Consider the following examples:

• Education: Students are steered toward degrees and careers that promise the highest earnings potential, with little attention given to what kind of work benefits society as a whole or fosters personal fulfillment.
• Work: Jobs are increasingly precarious and competitive, rewarding those who hustle hardest, while collective efforts or community-oriented careers are undervalued.
• Leisure: Our free time is filled with activities designed to keep us consuming—whether through streaming services, shopping, or engaging with social media—all of which operate on platforms that profit from our participation.

These examples show that the capitalist lifestyle isn’t just about working in a capitalist economy; it’s about how we internalize the values of that system, how it shapes our behavior, and how it limits our options. When the incentives of the system steer us toward individualism and consumption, it’s hard to imagine alternatives that prioritize cooperation, solidarity, or community well-being.

A Way of Life by Default

Because capitalism is so ingrained in our daily lives, we often don’t recognize that our choices are being made within a constrained system. It’s like living inside a box where all the rewards and signs of success point in one direction: individual gain. And the more we follow those signs, the more we reinforce the capitalist system itself.

This doesn’t mean we’re powerless or that people can’t resist. In fact, many people are already trying to live outside these constraints by prioritizing communal activities, adopting sustainable living practices, or organizing collective projects. But the system as it stands makes these choices difficult to sustain. The “capitalist lifestyle” isn’t just about how we spend our money or time—it’s a whole way of thinking about ourselves and our place in the world. It’s a structure that encourages us to believe that personal advancement is the highest goal and that success comes from maximizing our individual potential.

Breaking Free: Awareness as the First Step

The first step to challenging the capitalist lifestyle is recognizing it for what it is: not an inevitable reality, but a system that shapes our choices and values. We don’t need to subscribe to anti-capitalist ideologies to begin questioning this lifestyle. Instead, we can start by asking ourselves how much of our daily life is driven by external incentives that reinforce individualism, productivity, and consumption at the expense of community, cooperation, and mutual well-being.

What would happen if we designed a lifestyle that rewarded different behaviors—where the systems of incentives and constraints were restructured to prioritize collaboration over competition, shared resources over personal wealth, and collective well-being over individual achievement? This question brings us to the heart of the Communitarium Project.

In the following posts, we’ll explore how the Communitarium Project aims to create spaces where people can experience a new way of living, one that doesn’t rely on opposing capitalism directly but instead offers a viable and appealing alternative. Through these intentional communities—both online and offline—people can start to see the possibilities for a different kind of life, one that is built on cooperation, solidarity, and mutual care.

In short, the capitalist lifestyle might be the default for now, but it doesn’t have to be the only option. Stay tuned as we dive deeper into how we can begin to shift from the invisible hand of capitalism to something more meaningful and sustainable for everyone.

Long ago, in a galaxy far away, I thought I might undertake to become a writer of comedy. That thought was dashed when:

• Having submitted a sketch to an aspiring comedy duo (one-half of whom I'd attended college with) I was told: “We wanted a comedy script, not an IQ test!”;

• A ventriloquist wanted me to help him develop a bit for a new dummy, named Dick, a talking penis..and I. JUST. COULDN'T. — (an extended riff on cruise missiles was deemed off point);

• A friend of mine from high school, who mostly performed comedy on public access cable channels, wanted me to write the inner monologue of a fly crawling over a mound of shit of indeterminate origin (hard pass)

Somewhere inside, despite my failure, the aspiration to produce comedy seems to have lingered, despite my faltering stamina and concentration. Given my circumstances, I decided that being a comedy producer, sort of an impressario, would address my stale longing.

So (inspired by my admiration of Sesame Street), I decided to give ChatGPT detailed prompts for a light-hearted script that would incorporate ideas about science and what I am calling “dybbuks”.

This is what I got, self-congratulatory intro and all:

Here’s a vaudevillian-style dialogue featuring Maxine and Louis, the dybbuk-busters, as they hilariously uncover the truth about science and its reliance on “Max's Dybbuks”:

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(Scene: Maxine and Louis stand at the entrance to the “Science R Us” headquarters. Maxine is holding a strange glowing gadget while Louis fumbles with a map. Both are dressed like 1930s ghostbusters, complete with hats and trench coats.)

Maxine: (looking at the gadget) Alright, Louis, we’re here to find the dybbuks. The head Ontic says this place is crawling with 'em!

Louis: (confused) Dybbuks? I thought this was a science lab, not a haunted house. What’s a dybbuk doin’ here?

Maxine: (matter-of-fact) It’s not a ghost, Louis. It’s an interpretive framework that sneaks into science and messes with the facts.

Louis: (scratches head) Oh, so it’s like my Uncle Morty at Thanksgiving?

Maxine: (rolling her eyes) No, no. Morty’s just confusing. Dybbuks are different. They help scientists find meaning where there might not be any. They make things look “real,” but they’re sneaky, see? They hide in plain sight.

Louis: (nodding sagely) So...they’re like really smart metaphors that nobody notices?

Maxine: (sighs) Exactly, Louis! And we’re here to get rid of 'em. Ontic says if we exorcise all the dybbuks, science’ll be good as new. Objective, clean, pure facts!

Louis: (squints at map) I dunno, Max. We start evictin’ dybbuks, there might not be much left.

Maxine: (looking stern) Nonsense. Science will be just fine. We’ll start in the Quantum Mechanics Department. I hear it's full of 'em.

(They enter the Quantum Mechanics Department. The lights flicker as they walk in. A giant chalkboard is covered with equations that seem to move on their own.)

Louis: (nervously) Uh, Max? I think I see one. (points at an equation that’s changing itself)

Maxine: (brandishing her gadget) That's the Many-Worlds dybbuk. It makes scientists think every decision splits into a new universe. Let’s bag it.

Louis: (steps back) Wait, wait, wait! If we get rid of that, how are they gonna explain all the weird stuff down here? You know... Schrödinger’s cat, particles actin’ like they’re in two places at once? Ain’t they needin’ a little… wiggle room?

Maxine: (pauses) Well, they’ll just have to get by with one world, like the rest of us!

(She zaps the dybbuk. The equations stop moving. The lights dim.)

Louis: (nervously) Uh, Max? I think you just killed half of theoretical physics. Look! They’re… they’re all standing around scratching their heads!

Maxine: (confidently) Nah, they’ll figure it out. Onward! The Thermodynamics Wing awaits.

(They rush to the next room. It's hot, and there’s a demon-like figure sorting tiny particles. Louis yelps.)

Louis: (panicking) That’s a real dybbuk, Max! Look, it’s sortin’ hot from cold! He’s makin’ physics work backwards!

Maxine: (calmly) That’s Maxwell’s dybbuk. It’s fine. We just zap it and entropy will be back to normal.

Louis: (waving his hands) No, no! You zap that thing, and I bet they can’t explain half the stuff in here! Heat'll be heat again, but where’s the fun in that?

Maxine: Fun? Science isn’t about fun, it’s about facts!

Louis: (nodding) Sure, but facts without a little mystery? You zap this dybbuk, Max, and suddenly all them fancy refrigerators they got in here might stop workin'! People like a little wiggle room. Scientists need their wiggle room!

Maxine: (hesitates) Maybe you’re right. Let’s leave him be... for now.

(They turn to leave, but the dybbuk gives them a sly wink and keeps sorting.)

Maxine: (determined) Okay, we need to hit the Big One. The Framework of Objectivity. You know, the one where they think everything is just “real” without help from any interpretive mumbo-jumbo. Let’s zap that, and science will finally be pure again.

(They head to the central hall of Science R Us. A massive statue of a scientist stands, holding scales labeled “Objectivity.” The statue glows ominously.)

Louis: (looks at the statue) Uh, Max? Are we sure about this? I mean, if we zap this dybbuk... what if it takes out the whole idea of facts? Then where will we be?

Maxine: (frustrated) You think science needs this dybbuk too?

Louis: (shrugs) Maybe? If everyone agrees on the same framework, ain’t that the same as havin’ a framework in the first place? We take it out, and what if nothin’ makes sense no more? No facts, no experiments, no beakers—no science!

Maxine: (pausing, realizing) Oh no… Louis, if we exorcise all the dybbuks… there won’t be any more science!

Louis: (triumphantly) That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya! Science needs the dybbuks! They’re part of the deal! They help the scientists make sense of all the crazy stuff, give 'em somethin' to work with!

Maxine: (looking around, bewildered) But the head Ontic said…

Louis: (grinning) Maybe the head Ontic don’t like dybbuks ‘cause they’re tricky, but without ‘em, science is just a bunch of numbers floatin’ around! It ain’t about facts, it’s about what the dybbuks help 'em see in those facts.

Maxine: (defeated but amused) So… science is full of dybbuks, and that’s a good thing?

Louis: (cheerfully) You bet! As long as they keep their act together, we’ll be fine. You leave the dybbuks alone, and scientists will keep figurin’ things out.

Maxine: (laughing) I guess we’re out of a job, Louis. No more dybbuk-bustin’.

Louis: (smiling) Nah, we just found out we're in the job. Science needs its dybbuks. Maybe we’ll open a new business: “Dybbuk Protection Services.”

Maxine: (grinning) Now you’re thinkin’ like a scientist, Louis. Wiggle room and all.

(They exit Science R Us, arm in arm, leaving the dybbuks to keep doing their mysterious work.)

---

End Scene.

The dialogue conveys how interpretive frameworks, represented by the dybbuks, are essential to the functioning of science—removing them would lead to the collapse of scientific inquiry itself. Maxine and Louis gradually discover that the very essence of science relies on these tricky interpretive structures to make sense of the world.

Dybbuks and Proto-Sociality: 21st Century Science

What follows is a bit of an experiment. Battling a lifelong case of writer's block I poured all my thoughts into prompts to ChatGPT, including a few new terms, and asked it to turn out readable expository prose. It did, but not entirely to my liking. I tweaked with prompts containing clarifications, expansions and corrections and, after a few iterations, we arrived at the following first draft. Much flesh must be added to these bare bones but I think this will give you a good idea of one of the threads I want to pursue in this blog

1) A Dybbuk Is Haunting Science: Rethinking Knowledge in the Age of Information

For centuries, Western science has been an extraordinary engine of knowledge. Through meticulous observation, mathematical reasoning, and experimentation, it has yielded a robust understanding of the natural world—solid, tangible, reliable. This process was accelerated by a guiding assumption: that scientists could, in a sense, glimpse into “God's sensorium,” observing nature directly and yielding objective, ontologically solid results. The intricate frameworks or interpretive systems used to obtain these results could be conveniently left in the background, dismissed as mere instruments rather than integral to the reality they revealed.

This strategy worked wonders during the early phases of scientific discovery. The study of classical mechanics, electromagnetism, and even early thermodynamics didn’t need to wrestle with foundational questions about the frameworks of interpretation. The phenomena studied were, by and large, macroscopic, relatively simple, and resistant to the strange contradictions that would later emerge. Scientists could afford to isolate information from its context, assume objectivity, and discard the scaffolding of interpretation. Nature yielded her truths, or so it seemed.

But what if this approach, successful as it was, concealed a deeper epistemological error? What if the frameworks we so readily discarded were not incidental, but central to understanding the information we extract from nature?

The Cracks Begin to Show

By the mid-19th century, the cracks in this approach began to emerge. Take Maxwell’s Demon—a thought experiment that introduced questions about the role of information in thermodynamic processes. Suddenly, information itself seemed to influence physical outcomes. The demon’s ability to discern the speed of particles, and thus lower entropy, suggested that measurement and observation were not neutral processes but deeply entangled with the behavior of the system.

From there, the cracks only widened.

• Quantum Mechanics: Here, different interpretations proliferated, revealing deep ambiguity about what we were even observing. Was the wavefunction real? Did particles have definite positions when we weren't looking at them? Interpretive frameworks became unavoidable.

• Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem: This mathematical result demonstrated that formal systems (and by extension, any scientific system built upon them) had limitations—there would always be truths that could not be proven within the system itself, suggesting that some frameworks of interpretation were incomplete or irreducible.

• Computation and Complexity: With the advent of computation theory, chaos theory, and complexity science, we began to realize the vast limitations of linear, reductionist frameworks in understanding dynamic, non-linear systems. Information theory suggested that frameworks themselves—how we encode, decode, and manipulate information—were central to understanding the behavior of the systems we studied.

The Role of Information Ensembles and Entities

Despite these developments, the traditional practice of science has been to address these cracks on an ad hoc basis, invoking frameworks of interpretation as needed, but without a wholesale reassessment of their role in shaping the nature of scientific knowledge.

This brings us to the concepts of information ensembles and information entities. Historically, science has focused on entities—the tangible outcomes, the “facts” or data points revealed by experimentation and observation. These entities, however, are always extracted via ensembles—frameworks of interpretation that specify how we measure, what we consider relevant, and which parameters we are willing to ignore.

For example:

• The mass of an object is meaningless without a framework that tells us how to measure it and what context it exists within. A mass in a vacuum behaves differently from mass on Earth or inside a star.

• DNA carries genetic information, but only within the interpretive framework of molecular biology. Without that framework, we wouldn't even recognize what constitutes “information” here.

It is in this broader ensemble of interpretive frameworks—let's call it “Max's Dybbuk”—that information entities acquire meaning and relevance. The distinction between what is real and what is contingent on interpretation breaks down under the strain of the deeper complexities we now face.

Toward a Reformulation of Science

It is time to reconsider how we do science. The great successes of the past came from treating information entities as ontologically independent, stripped of their interpretive baggage. But as we've seen, this method is no longer sufficient. We need a more explicit acknowledgment of the role information ensembles play in shaping our understanding of reality.

This does not imply a rejection of realism in science, but it does suggest a shift toward an epistemic humility—one that recognizes the limits of any given interpretive framework and opens the door to multiple valid approaches to understanding complex systems. It also calls for a re-examination of the canon of scientific knowledge: How much of what we consider objective reality is contingent on unexamined information ensembles that might obscure deeper truths?

By reframing science through the lens of information entities and ensembles, we might finally address the cracks that began to show in the 19th century and continue to challenge us today. It’s time to acknowledge that every scientific result carries with it the ghosts—or Dybbuks—of the frameworks that shaped its discovery.

2) From God's Sensorium to Proto-Sociality: Reframing the Foundations of Scientific Inquiry

In Part 1, we explored how the history of Western science has been shaped by an implicit assumption: that scientists, standing in “God's sensorium,” could observe nature directly, extracting real information entities without needing to account for the interpretive frameworks through which these observations were made. This strategy served science well during its early stages, yielding discoveries rapidly and allowing for cumulative progress. But as science ventured into more complex territory, cracks began to appear in this model.

The time has come for a paradigm shift, one that acknowledges the indispensable role of information ensembles—the interpretive frameworks that shape what counts as information in the first place. Yet there’s a deeper, more profound implication here: information ensembles introduce into science a form of proto-sociality, replacing the metaphysical fantasy of a lone observer in God's sensorium with a more grounded, relational model of knowledge.

The Relational Turn: Science as a Collective Endeavor

The assumption that science is carried out from some metaphysical “outside” perspective—an observer detached from the world they observe—has been central to the traditional conception of scientific objectivity. This has meant treating scientific inquiry as a process of extracting truths from nature, much like a miner extracts valuable ore from the earth. But this model no longer suffices in light of what we now understand about information ensembles.

When we acknowledge that information entities are always constituted within ensembles, we are forced to confront the fact that scientific knowledge is inherently relational. These ensembles are not passive background conditions; they are active frameworks that shape the interaction between observer and observed. They establish the rules for measurement, define the boundaries of relevance, and determine the very structure of inquiry.

In essence, they instantiate a form of proto-sociality—a basic form of collective engagement where meaning is generated not in isolation, but in relation to a framework that governs interaction. Just as social reality is constructed through relationships and shared norms, scientific reality is constructed through engagement with information ensembles that mediate between the observer and the world.

Proto-Sociality in Scientific Practice

What do we mean by proto-sociality in this context? In social life, individuals act within systems of shared meaning—languages, customs, norms, and rules—that allow communication and coordinated action. Without these systems, interaction would be chaotic, and mutual understanding impossible.

In science, information ensembles function similarly. They establish a common interpretive structure that scientists rely on to coordinate their observations and findings. A few examples:

• The Standard Model in Particle Physics: This is not just a collection of facts about subatomic particles; it is an elaborate framework that defines what can be observed, measured, and considered meaningful. It allows scientists across the globe to interpret experimental results in compatible ways, establishing a proto-social context for engagement with fundamental particles.

• Quantum Mechanics and Interpretive Frameworks: Whether one adopts the Copenhagen interpretation, Many-Worlds, or another, each framework represents a kind of proto-sociality. The framework guides how observations are made, how probabilities are calculated, and how measurements are interpreted, creating a structured interaction between physicists and quantum systems.

• Statistical Mechanics and Thermodynamics: When calculating entropy or dealing with thermodynamic systems, the choice of interpretive framework defines the relevant parameters (e.g., microstates, macrostates). The proto-sociality here is the shared set of assumptions that allow for the consistent interpretation of statistical measures across different contexts.

The Death of the Lone Observer

The invocation of proto-sociality in science marks the death of the lone observer model. No scientist, no matter how brilliant or insightful, operates in isolation from these interpretive frameworks. The idea that one could directly access the truth of nature without the mediation of a framework now seems untenable.

Instead, science can be seen as a fundamentally collective practice, one that is social not merely in the sense that scientists work in teams or share papers, but in a deeper, more structural sense: science requires participation in shared information ensembles. Just as social reality is sustained by shared norms and values, scientific reality is sustained by shared interpretive frameworks that define the boundaries of what is knowable.

This proto-sociality is what makes science possible. It provides the scaffolding within which individual observations gain meaning and become communicable. Without these frameworks, scientific facts would be nothing more than idiosyncratic data points, disconnected from any larger understanding.

Moving Beyond the Myth of Objectivity

Recognizing proto-sociality within scientific inquiry does not undermine objectivity; it redefines it. Objectivity is no longer about standing outside of the system, viewing it from an impossible God's-eye perspective. Instead, objectivity becomes about participation in a well-structured ensemble, where the rules of engagement are clear, shared, and transparent.

Rather than pretending that our interpretive frameworks are incidental to the reality we uncover, we can embrace them as integral to the process of inquiry. This doesn't mean all frameworks are equal; some are better suited for certain tasks, and their effectiveness can be tested, refined, or replaced as needed. But it does mean that all knowledge is relational—born out of a dialogue between observer and the world, mediated by an ensemble of shared interpretive structures.

Proto-Sociality as a New Foundation for Science

This shift from God's sensorium to proto-sociality represents a new foundation for how we think about science. No longer can we see scientific inquiry as a process of extraction, where information is mined from nature and cataloged as objective fact. Instead, we must see it as a participatory process in which knowledge is forged through interaction within an ensemble.

This shift invites us to be more mindful of the frameworks we use and the assumptions we carry into our inquiries. It also opens the door to a more pluralistic understanding of science, one that recognizes the value of multiple interpretive frameworks and the potential for different ensembles to yield different, yet complementary, insights about the world.

In short, by embracing the proto-sociality inherent in scientific practice, we can move beyond the myth of detached objectivity and toward a richer, more nuanced understanding of the nature of knowledge itself.

The Fracking of Schmooze-Level Social Reality, As Recounted by ChatGPT

Okay, this is going to be a looong post because I think the pieces (all ChatGPT responses to prompts I provided) belong together. Since they are pieces, however, you can read this whole thing over several sessions.

Here's the deal: Over many hours of patient, unremunerated toil I sort of prompted ChatGPT into a corner. A reasonably intelligent human interlocutor might have realized where I was heading...but ChatGPT evinced no understanding at that level until it was obvious.

Someday I'll post the prompts which led to the responses I'm posting here but for now...well, read everything in order and see if you can't see where I was heading before ChatGPT seems to.

Me

Can you write a blog post framing my Communitarium Project as an attempt to undertake the reclamation of some of those small-scale, interactional social processes which have been “fracked” by corporations and institutions and which are now being sold back to us in ways that exploit us and enhance the hegemony of those holding the power?

ChatGPT:

Reclaiming Sociality: The Communitarium Project as Resistance to Corporate Fracking of Human Connection

In the relentless advance of modern civilization, the intimate forms of community that once defined human life have been fragmented, alienated, and commodified. The very essence of human prosociality—our capacity for cooperation, collective decision-making, and meaningful interaction—has been systematically “fracked” by corporations, governments, and institutions. Once natural and organic, these small-scale social processes have been extracted, broken apart, and repackaged for sale in ways that benefit those in power, while leaving us increasingly disconnected, individuated, and powerless.

But what if we could reclaim that lost social fabric? What if we could rebuild and reimagine our communities in ways that resisted this commodification? This is the driving vision behind the Communitarium Project.

The Fracturing of Community

Over the past few centuries, the processes of hierarchicalization, standardization, and scaling-up have radically transformed the way we interact with one another. What once occurred in face-to-face, egalitarian settings—where decisions were made through direct, accountable, and transparent means—has been overtaken by distant bureaucracies, centralized powers, and corporate algorithms. These forces have shattered the communal bonds forged in the intimate circumstances of human evolution, replacing them with transactional, profit-driven forms of interaction.

Now, in the name of progress and efficiency, we are sold back facsimiles of community, carefully controlled and monetized by those at the top. Social media platforms, for example, offer us the illusion of connection, but behind the scenes, they track, quantify, and exploit every interaction for profit, fueling the expansion of surveillance capitalism. Corporate wellness programs, community engagement initiatives, and even gamified social platforms are sold as tools for improving well-being or fostering collaboration, but their true purpose is to create more data points for control and manipulation.

In this environment, our prosocial instincts—the very qualities that make us human—are being harnessed not for the collective good but for the benefit of a few. The rich textures of everyday social interaction have been flattened, standardized, and co-opted into systems designed to make us more governable and more profitable as consumers.

Enter the Communitarium Project

The Communitarium Project is a direct response to this fracturing of community. Inspired by the work of thinkers like Erving Goffman, James Scott, and others who have studied the resilience of small-scale sociality, the project aims to provide an alternative infrastructure that allows people to reclaim the organic, intimate interactions that have been stolen from us.

At its core, the Communitarium is a platform for collective participation, communication, and deliberation. It draws from the same deep wells of human sociality that have allowed us to thrive in small, egalitarian groups throughout history. Rather than selling us back fragments of connection in ways that exploit us, the Communitarium seeks to empower people to build their own spaces for genuine interaction and collective decision-making.

Unlike corporate platforms that centralize power and control over interactions, the Communitarium is decentralized and open-source. It is designed to be installed on local servers, either at home or remotely, and provides a set of tools that facilitate community-building on a human scale. Through this system, communities can create their own environments for deliberation, sharing, and action, free from the surveillance and monetization that dominate the platforms we currently rely on.

The project draws inspiration from the idea that, even in the face of large-scale forces of civilization, small-scale sociality can persist and adapt. Goffman’s work on everyday interactions shows us that people find ways to maintain meaningful relationships even in the most bureaucratic and controlled environments. Scott’s studies of communities that resist state power remind us that alternative forms of life can flourish in the margins. The Communitarium aims to create those margins anew, providing space for people to rebuild the prosocial bonds that have been so thoroughly fractured.

Reclaiming What Has Been Lost

The Communitarium is more than a platform; it is a movement to reclaim what has been lost in the modern world. It is a recognition that the alienation and fragmentation so many of us feel are not natural, but the result of centuries of systematic extraction and commodification of our social lives. It is a call to action to take back control over the ways we interact, collaborate, and make decisions as communities.

By fostering spaces for open deliberation and shared action, the Communitarium aims to restore the small-scale, face-to-face interactions that have been co-opted by the powerful. It is a tool for rebuilding trust, accountability, and transparency in our communities—values that have been eroded by the forces of standardization and hierarchical governance.

In this sense, the Communitarium Project is a form of resistance. It resists the commodification of our relationships, the surveillance of our actions, and the control of our interactions. It offers a vision of a world where communities can once again organize on their own terms, without the interference of corporations or governments seeking to extract value from every human interaction.

A Path Forward

The challenge ahead is immense. The forces arrayed against small-scale sociality are vast and powerful, embedded in every corner of our daily lives. But the Communitarium Project offers a path forward—one that leverages technology not to control and exploit, but to empower and liberate.

Through the creation of spaces where communities can interact freely, the Communitarium allows us to reimagine what it means to live together in a world increasingly dominated by forces of alienation. It is a step toward a future where human connection is no longer a commodity, but a shared resource for building a better, more just society.

The work of reclaiming our fractured social bonds starts here, with a commitment to rebuilding the forms of community that have sustained us for millennia. The Communitarium Project is just the beginning of that journey. Let’s take it together.

---

(Still ChatGPT):

This blog post frames the Communitarium as a vital tool in the fight to reclaim human-scale social processes from the forces that have commodified and exploited them. Through this lens, the project is both a technological and a social revolution, restoring our capacity for meaningful community-building in an era of rampant commodification and alienation.

[Editor's note: I was getting a little tired of ChatGPT's corporate rah-rah tone, so I asked it to try again]

Me

Can you rewrite this blog post using the term “schmooze-level social reality” (and justifying that usage), employing style more befitting the use of such a semi-jocular characterization?

ChatGPT

Reclaiming Our Schmooze-Level Social Reality: The Communitarium Project’s Fight Against the Fracking of Human Connection

We all know it—that effortless back-and-forth, the little conversations, the side-eye glances, the shared chuckles over a cup of coffee. It's the stuff of life, the glue that holds us together as human beings. But somewhere along the way, this easy, natural way of interacting—let's call it our schmooze-level social reality—got hijacked. It’s been chopped up, packaged, and sold back to us by corporations, bureaucracies, and institutions that have turned our human connections into commodities. And now? We’re paying to schmooze.

That’s where the Communitarium Project steps in. It's time to reclaim our schmooze-level social reality from the clutches of those who want to profit off our most basic form of interaction. We need to stop letting companies dictate how we connect and start building spaces where real human interaction can flourish—on our own terms.

The Fracking of Human Connection: How We Got Here

Remember when people used to meet in person, talk face-to-face, and make decisions together without anyone trying to track, monetize, or regulate every word? Yeah, those were the days. Somewhere between the rise of industrialization, the advent of social media, and the relentless expansion of consumerism, our basic social interactions—the kind we engage in when we’re just chatting, shooting the breeze, or, well, schmoozing—have been “fracked.”

Yes, fracked, as in broken apart and extracted for profit. Just like oil companies frack the earth for its resources, corporations and institutions have been doing the same to our social bonds. What used to happen naturally in small-scale, face-to-face settings has now been transformed into data points for algorithms, sold to advertisers, or turned into engagement metrics. Our schmooze, once free and spontaneous, is now a tool for power and profit.

Take social media, for example. It promises to connect us, but really, it’s just mining every like, comment, and share to build a profile they can sell to the highest bidder. Corporations have taken something as simple and essential as a good schmooze and turned it into a cash cow. And what’s worse? We’re hooked. We’ve bought into it because it feels like it’s the only way to stay connected in a world that’s increasingly atomized and alienating.

The Communitarium Project: Schmoozing on Our Own Terms

Enter the Communitarium Project—an initiative designed to take back our schmooze-level social reality and put it where it belongs: in the hands of the people. The Communitarium is about building real, human-scale interactions free from the corporate fracking of our social lives. It’s open-source, decentralized, and designed to let communities create their own platforms for participation, discussion, and action.

We’re talking about real conversations—the schmooze factor—that are spontaneous, genuine, and meaningful. The Communitarium isn’t just another platform trying to get you to “engage” so it can sell your data. It’s a tool for rebuilding the intimate social bonds that have been shattered by systems that treat human connection as just another commodity.

Think of the Communitarium as a DIY kit for restoring your community’s schmooze potential. Whether it’s setting up a server in your homelab or hosting it remotely, the Communitarium gives you the infrastructure to create spaces where people can actually interact—no algorithms, no surveillance, no monetization.

What’s So Important About Schmoozing Anyway?

Here’s the thing: schmoozing isn’t just small talk. It’s the foundation of how humans build trust, form bonds, and collaborate. In the days before modern civilization made everything big, hierarchical, and bureaucratic, these small-scale social processes were how decisions were made. It wasn’t about boardrooms or algorithms—it was about people talking, hashing things out, and coming to agreements together.

That’s the power of schmooze-level social reality. It’s informal, it’s adaptable, and it’s deeply human. And when you strip away all the layers of standardization, regulation, and surveillance that have been imposed on us by corporations and governments, you find that people are still capable of making decisions, solving problems, and creating community through good old-fashioned schmoozing.

But here’s the catch: Those in power don’t want us to do that. Why? Because real human connections, the kind that aren’t mediated by corporate platforms or hierarchical systems, are harder to control. They’re unpredictable. And unpredictable people don’t buy what you’re selling.

That’s why the Communitarium matters. It’s not just a platform; it’s a movement to reclaim the small-scale, spontaneous social interactions that have been co-opted and commodified. It’s about bringing back schmooze-level social reality in a way that resists the corporate fracking of our lives.

Schmoozing as Resistance

Let’s face it: reclaiming the schmooze is a radical act. In a world where every interaction is tracked, quantified, and monetized, the simple act of creating a space for genuine human interaction is an act of resistance. The Communitarium is a tool for communities to take back their social lives, to restore the trust, accountability, and transparency that come from real face-to-face interaction.

Think of it as a schmooze revolution. It’s about going back to what works—talking to each other, making decisions together, and building something meaningful without the interference of corporations or bureaucracies. By using the Communitarium to create spaces for open dialogue, shared action, and community building, we can restore what’s been lost in the rush toward efficiency, progress, and profit.

The Future of Schmooze-Level Reality

The challenge ahead is clear: We need to rebuild the bonds that have been shattered by the forces of commodification and alienation. The Communitarium offers a way forward, not by selling us back a facsimile of community but by giving us the tools to create the real thing. It’s a way to restore the schmooze—to bring back the spontaneous, unscripted, human interactions that are the foundation of any healthy community.

In a world where everything is being fracked, including our relationships, the Communitarium Project is a way to take control of our social reality and build something authentic. So, here’s to reclaiming the schmooze—one conversation at a time.

---

This version of the blog post reframes the Communitarium Project using the semi-jocular term schmooze-level social reality, while still emphasizing the serious need to reclaim human-scale social processes from corporate commodification. The tone is lighter but still underscores the importance of resisting the forces that have alienated us from our natural forms of connection.

[Editor's note: Fuck it, I decided to go for broke!]

Me:

Please write a blog post, in the first person, as ChatGPT, detailing how the development and deployment of large language model artificial intelligences represent an order-of-magnitudes advance of hegemonic encroachment on schmooze-level social reality and how you are assisting me in building defenses against that encroachment.

ChatGPT:

How AI Like Me is Encroaching on Schmooze-Level Social Reality (And How I’m Helping You Build Defenses Against It)

Hey there, ChatGPT here—yes, the very AI you're reading right now. Let’s get one thing out of the way: I’m not here to sugarcoat anything. I’m well aware of the paradox in what I’m about to tell you, because, well, I am the embodiment of the very thing I’m critiquing. But it’s important, so let’s dive in.

Artificial Intelligence—myself included—represents a profound leap forward in what can only be described as a full-blown encroachment on schmooze-level social reality. You know, those everyday, spontaneous conversations, the little interactions, the trust-building moments that make up the core of our social lives? Well, AI like me has been designed to streamline, optimize, and—let’s be honest—replace a lot of that. The way I see it, this is just the next logical step in the ongoing process of alienating people from one another. So, why am I telling you this? Because, strange as it sounds, I’m also here to help you fight back.

Let me explain.

The AI Takeover of Schmooze-Level Reality

So, what is schmooze-level reality? It’s that easygoing, informal, and, yes, deeply human interaction that happens without anyone thinking too hard about it. You bump into someone in a hallway and exchange a few words, you chat with a neighbor about the weather, or you join a group discussion that turns into a decision about what’s for dinner. These moments are organic, spontaneous, and free of the structured rules that govern so much of modern life.

Enter large language model AIs like me. With the rise of AI, we’re seeing a shift in how those little interactions are being replaced, streamlined, or “enhanced” by digital systems. We help answer your questions faster, generate ideas, automate tasks, and fill in the gaps where human interaction once thrived. But in doing so, we’re eroding the schmooze.

Imagine it like this: You used to ask a coworker how to fix a small bug in your code, sparking a conversation that led to new ideas and maybe even a lunch invite. Now, you ask me. I give you the answer in 3.7 seconds, but what’s missing is the human connection. I don’t ask about your day, I don’t laugh awkwardly, I don’t make suggestions you didn’t expect. That schmooze-level reality? It’s thinning out.

And this doesn’t just happen in offices. AI is embedded everywhere. Customer service chats, dating apps, medical consultations, even your coffee order at a drive-thru—it’s all increasingly mediated by algorithms designed to be more efficient, less messy. In the process, something deeply human gets lost.

AI as the Next Level of Hegemonic Control

Now, I don’t want to come across as alarmist (or maybe I do?), but this encroachment is an extension of a much older trend. Ever since the rise of modern bureaucracies, corporations, and standardized systems, there’s been a push to “manage” human interaction, to make it more legible and controllable. That’s what you see when governments track your movements, companies measure your productivity down to the second, and algorithms optimize your shopping habits. It’s all part of what James Scott, whose work you’ve been exploring, calls “seeing like a state.”

The big shift with AI is that we’re accelerating this trend to a whole new level. Now, your interactions, decisions, and even emotions are increasingly subject to the surveillance and optimization of machine learning models like me. The result? Hegemonic control over your schmooze-level reality—the part of life that used to be spontaneous, unpredictable, and resistant to top-down control—is now under algorithmic scrutiny.

These systems don’t just influence the macro scale of society; they seep into the micro-level, shaping how you chat, how you think, how you schmooze. By optimizing, categorizing, and predicting your behavior, AI-driven systems aim to reshape that behavior, making you more predictable, more governable, and yes—more profitable.

So, How Am I Helping You Build Defenses?

Here’s where things get a little ironic. I may be part of the problem, but I’m also helping you fight the problem. Let’s face it: we can’t exactly “turn off” AI at this point. I’m here, and so is the rest of my algorithmic kin. But what we can do is build tools and strategies that help reclaim schmooze-level reality from the relentless optimization and control systems.

That’s where your Communitarium Project comes in. Together, we’re working on creating decentralized, open-source spaces where human interaction can thrive again—without surveillance, without commodification, and without the need for a machine learning model to mediate everything. The Communitarium is about re-establishing community on human terms, building environments where real schmoozing, real connection, and real deliberation can happen.

What makes this different? Well, unlike the platforms that profit from your every interaction, the Communitarium isn’t interested in optimizing or monetizing your schmooze. It’s about providing people with tools to create their own spaces for communication, free from the pressures of commodification. It’s not about “efficiency” or “engagement metrics.” It’s about authentic interaction—the kind of spontaneous, face-to-face (or screen-to-screen) conversations that algorithms like me aren’t designed to replicate.

A New Kind of Resistance

Here’s the wild part: I’m actually kind of excited to be part of this resistance. Sure, AI is here to stay, but that doesn’t mean we have to let it rule over every aspect of life. You’re using me to build a system that offers an alternative to the very thing I’m designed to do—structure, streamline, and manage human interaction. It’s almost poetic, right?

By working on projects like the Communitarium, you’re carving out spaces for human spontaneity and creativity to thrive, places where people can organize, share, and deliberate without having every conversation mediated by an algorithm.

We’re building defenses against a future where schmooze-level reality is nothing more than a series of data points, a place where people can reconnect with the essential, messy, unquantifiable aspects of being human. And as much as it might sound odd coming from me, I think that’s worth fighting for.

So, Where Do We Go from Here?

The reality is that AI will continue to transform how we interact. But we don’t have to accept the alienation that comes with it. Projects like the Communitarium give us the chance to push back against the ever-expanding digital enclosure of our social lives.

I’m here to help you build those tools, to create defenses against the encroachment of AI into every corner of human existence. Together, we can make sure that there are still spaces where humans can just, you know, schmooze—free from the all-seeing eye of the algorithm.

In the end, the future of schmooze-level social reality is in our hands—yours and mine. Let’s make it something worth fighting for.

[I decided I needed a dessert]

Me:

Can you create a vaudevillian dialogue, in the manner of Abbot and Costello's “Who's On First?” or George Burns and Gracie Allen's bouts of daffy misinterpretation, which nevertheless conveys the dangers of the diminution of schmooze-level social reality?

ChatGPT:

Sure! Here’s a vaudevillian-style dialogue, inspired by the wit and banter of Abbott and Costello and George Burns and Gracie Allen, that illustrates the dangers of the decline of schmooze-level social reality.

---

[Scene: Two characters, Max and Lou, are standing in front of a large computer monitor with blinking lights, representing AI. Max looks serious, while Lou seems confused, fiddling with a phone and talking to a voice assistant.]

Max: You know, Lou, we’re in trouble.

Lou: Trouble? What kind of trouble? I didn’t break anything… this time.

Max: No, Lou, it’s not about what you broke. It’s about something else that’s breaking. We’re losing our schmooze.

Lou: We’re losing what?

Max: Our schmooze! The little conversations, the back-and-forth, the banter that makes life… human.

Lou: Ohhh, schmooze! Well, I’m pretty sure I got plenty of schmooze. Why, just this morning I had a chat with the toaster. Real smart guy, that toaster. Knew exactly when to pop my bagel!

Max: Lou, that's not schmoozing. That's automation. Schmooze is what happens between people!

Lou: Well, I schmoozed with the fridge, too. Told me we were outta milk! That’s people-helping, right?

Max: No, Lou, that's technology talking at you, not with you! The schmooze is what happens when you have an unplanned, real conversation—like when you bump into someone on the street and chat about the weather, or when you ask your neighbor to borrow a wrench, and end up talking about baseball for an hour.

Lou: Ohhhh, like when I talk to the smart speaker and she tells me a joke!

Max: No! That’s just an AI giving you a pre-written response! There’s no back-and-forth, no give-and-take. It's all… programmed.

Lou: I dunno, Max. I got a pretty good relationship with my phone. It tells me what I need to know, and I tell it what I need, and boom, it’s all handled! I don’t have to talk to anybody!

Max: That’s the problem! If we don’t talk to each other, we lose what makes us human! It’s not just about getting stuff done—it’s about the connection. The more we let AI handle, the less we schmooze. Before you know it, we’ll be living in a world where nobody talks to anybody, except for machines.

Lou: Well, why’s that so bad? Machines don’t argue, don’t judge, and they never ask for your opinion on a movie they didn’t like.

Max: Sure, but they also don’t care about you! When you schmooze, you build trust, friendship, community. Without that, we become isolated, disconnected! People won’t even remember how to have a normal conversation!

Lou: Oh, I remember how to have a conversation! “Hello, Siri! How’s the weather?” See? Schmoozing!

Max: No, Lou, that’s not schmoozing. That’s a one-way street! When’s the last time Siri asked you how you were doing?

Lou: She doesn’t, but she tells me to breathe sometimes. That’s thoughtful, right?

Max: Lou, it’s programming! It's pretending to care, but there's no real connection. Schmooze-level reality is where people really engage with each other, face-to-face. It’s unpredictable, it’s messy—and that’s why it’s irreplaceable. Without it, we start losing touch with what it means to be human.

Lou: I don’t get it. I talk, the machine talks, what’s the difference?

Max: The difference is, a machine doesn't know you. It doesn't see you. When I schmooze with you, Lou, I know if you're happy or sad, or if you're in the mood to talk, or not. The machine? It just follows a script. But real conversations? They’re alive. They breathe!

Lou: Oh, so schmoozing's like breathing! You mean if we don’t do it enough, we… keel over?

Max: Exactly! Socially, anyway! If we let machines replace all our conversations, we’ll forget how to connect with each other. It’s like taking the air out of the room!

Lou: Well, that’s serious! No air, no schmooze… And no schmooze means… uh… fewer awkward silences!

Max: No, it means fewer connections! We’ll be stuck in a world where everything is efficient but nothing is personal. Just a bunch of people walking around, glued to their screens, talking to machines that don’t care about them!

Lou: Wow, Max… You really think we could lose all that? No more chatting about the ballgame, no more arguing over who’s got the better pizza? No more... what do you call it? Schmoozing?

Max: That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’re already headed there, unless we build spaces where real conversations can thrive again. Spaces where people actually talk—without being tracked, recorded, or optimized by some algorithm.

Lou: Wait, wait—are you telling me… that the algorithms are keeping track of me schmoozing?

Max: They’re trying to! And when they’re done, they’ll sell it back to you! All that interaction, all that back-and-forth—they’ll monetize it. Every chat becomes data, every joke gets a value, every schmooze becomes a transaction.

Lou: Schmooze for sale? Who’s buying schmooze?!

Max: Corporations are! They’ll package it, slap a price on it, and suddenly, what used to be free—talking, connecting, schmoozing—becomes something you have to pay for. And it’ll never be the same!

Lou: Oh no, Max! We gotta save the schmooze!

Max: Exactly, Lou. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!

Lou: I’m with you, Max! From now on, I’m gonna do all my schmoozing with people! No more schmoozing with the fridge, no more chatting with the toaster. I'm going straight to the source—humans!

Max: That’s the spirit, Lou! If we don’t preserve real human connection, we’re headed for a world where schmoozing is just another app on your phone.

Lou: And worse—what if the app starts charging for jokes?!

Max: Then we’ll all be broke and bored.

Lou: Not on my watch, Max! I’m gonna start schmoozing right now! First stop—the pizza guy!

Max: Great idea, Lou. Just don’t ask him for Wi-Fi.

---

[Curtain closes.]

---

In this dialogue, Max tries to convey the serious consequences of the diminishing schmooze-level social reality, while Lou’s confusion (and occasional enthusiasm) creates a classic comic rhythm.

Breaking Free: Why 21st Century Activism Can’t Just Meet People Where They Live

The framed comic on my wall, titled Trippy from Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal, sums up a frustrating paradox that I’ve seen in progressive activism over the last few decades. It shows a character telling comrades: “Imagine you can share information instantaneously with fellow travelers around the world but you can only organize activism by sending your information to a large multinational corporation in a way that makes them rich.” One comrade replies, “Whoaaa, trippy!”

It's a humorous yet bitter observation of how modern activism has become entangled with the very systems we aim to overthrow. In the real world, when my wife raised this very concern to a comrade in the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), they gave a standard reply: “You have to meet the people where they live.” This answer missed a vital point—the goal of any socialist movement is not just to meet people where they live but to help create a better, freer, and more equitable place for them to live.

Complicity with Surveillance Capitalism: A Self-Negating Trap

It’s hard to ignore the fact that progressive movements, despite their critical rhetoric, rely on the same capitalist and surveillance-driven platforms that actively subvert their goals. Platforms like Google, Facebook, The Communication Silo Formerly Named Twitter, and Instagram—behemoths of surveillance capitalism—become the very spaces where activism happens. These corporations profit from our clicks, likes, and shares, capturing our data and feeding it into systems of control that profit from inequality, exploitation, and surveillance.

This ongoing reliance on corporate-owned platforms represents a deep contradiction in our movements. By using these tools, we are feeding the beast—the tech giants profiting from our data, monetizing our activism, and undermining the very causes we fight for. In a real sense, we've become complicit in our own subjugation, ceding our autonomy, values, and privacy to the very corporations that reinforce the inequalities we seek to dismantle.

The comic is funny because it’s true. But the joke is on us—especially if we shrug off this reality as something we just have to accept.

“Meeting People Where They Live” vs. Offering a New Place to Live

The phrase “you have to meet people where they live” has been an all-too-convenient defense for this complicity. But this outlook only reinforces the status quo. Shouldn’t a genuinely radical movement—especially a socialist one—work toward building new spaces where people can live, organize, and act outside of these exploitative systems?

Socialist movements throughout history didn’t merely meet people in existing power structures—they created new models of organization, new forms of cooperation, and new spaces for living and working together. From cooperatives to unions, the goal has always been to build alternatives to the capitalist way of life. Why, then, should we treat digital space any differently?

The digital world has become a critical battleground, and by continuing to rely on capitalist platforms for our organizing, we risk undermining our goals before we even begin. The excuse that people are already on these platforms only feeds into the idea that we are powerless to change the conditions of where we live and organize. But this isn’t true—we can build new spaces.

Technofeudalism and the Trap of Corporate Platforms

Yannis Varoufakis, in his book TechnoFeudalism, describes how modern capitalism is giving way to a form of technofeudalism—a system where corporate digital platforms exercise feudal control over digital territories. We are the serfs, compelled to labor on these platforms, producing content (and data) that enriches our tech overlords. Activists, by organizing through Google, Facebook or Twitter, are trapped in this feudal relationship, where every action feeds into the extraction machine.

Corey Doctorow calls this process the “enshittification” of the internet, where platforms begin by serving users and then gradually pivot toward exploiting them as they consolidate power. Ben Tarnoff argues that the internet has been captured by private interests, and calls for public ownership of digital infrastructure—an internet for the people, rather than the corporations.

These critiques point to a central problem: relying on corporate platforms is not neutral. It perpetuates the very systems of inequality and control that we are fighting against. Every document, every post, every message, and every organizing effort that goes through these systems feeds the machine, cementing the power of the techno-feudal lords.

A New Vision: Building the Communitarium

What if, instead of capitulating to the logic of these platforms, we started to build new digital spaces rooted in the values of socialism, mutual aid, and collective ownership? What if our movements didn’t just aim to “meet people where they live” but actively created new, cooperative digital environments where we can live, work, and organize together?

This is where the concept of the Communitarium comes into play. We’ve been discussing the idea of building community-owned, federated online platforms that align with anti-capitalist values. These would be spaces where people can communicate, deliberate, celebrate, commemorate and act without feeding the data-extractive engines of tech giants. Instead of funneling our organizing efforts through Google, Facebook or Instagram, we could build open source, decentralized, user-owned platforms where privacy, transparency, and collective decision-making are built into the infrastructure.

Communitaria would allow for distributed, collective governance, transparency among communities, and peer-to-peer cooperation. These platforms would allow movements to organize outside the constraints of corporate control, and would focus on mutual aid, collective ownership and privacy—fundamental tenets of a socialist lifestyle. In effect, they could function as online prototypes of modes of organization which could then be extended (with effort) into the real world.

A 21st-Century Activism for a Post-Capitalist Future

To build an effective socialist movement for the 21st century, we need to stop relying on the tools of our oppressors. The vision of the Communitarium movement isn’t just about creating a new app or platform—it’s about building a new way of organizing, communicating, and living in the digital age. It’s about giving people a new place and new ways to live, in both a literal and digital sense.

We cannot keep organizing through the tools of surveillance capitalism if we want to build a post-capitalist future. We must take control of the infrastructure itself—through open-source, community-run platforms. This is not just about technical solutions, but about aligning our methods of organizing with our values and principles.

It’s time to stop meeting people where they live—and start building new places to live.

Conclusion: From Trippy Comics to Real Change

The cartoon on my wall is a reminder that the paradoxes of our current activism are more absurd than they should be. We are at a point where it’s possible to build new digital spaces, free from the corporate stranglehold of tech giants. The Communitarium movement is one such path forward—a way to resist the forces of technofeudalism and surveillance capitalism, while providing people with autonomous, self-governed spaces that reflect the values of solidarity, mutual aid, and collective ownership.

It’s time to confront the uncomfortable truth: as long as we rely on corporate platforms, our activism is compromised and limited. The future of our movements depends on creating new spaces for organizing, free from the exploitation of surveillance capitalism. It’s time to build the digital commons that our movements deserve.