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

August 31, 2024

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.

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]

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

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:

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.