Venture capitalist Marc Andreessen posted a manifesto on the a16z website, calling for “techno-optimism” in a frenetic 5,000-word blog post that somehow manages to reinvent Reaganomics, propose the colonization of outer space, and non-ironically answer a question with the phrase “QED.”
Andreessen’s vision of techno-optimism might seem inspiring: imagine a libertarian world where technology solves all our problems, poverty and climate change are eradicated, and an honest meritocracy reigns. Although Andreessen may call us “communists and Luddites” so to speak, his dreams are unrealistic and based on the erroneous premise that technology alone makes the world better.
First, we must remember the prejudices that Andreessen brings to the table, mainly that he is absurdly rich (worth an estimated $1.35 billion as of September 2022) and that his absurd wealth is largely tied to his investments. eponymous technology venture fund. Therefore, he is inherently going to push the techno-optimistic view of him, because the success of tech companies means he will get even richer. When you have a financial interest in something, you become biased: that’s why, as journalists, we can’t buy Netflix stock and then turn around and write an article about why Netflix is going to have a great fourth quarter.
But money can be blinding. At the beginning of her essay, Andreessen writes: “We believe that there is no material problem—whether created by nature or technology—that cannot be solved with more technology.” A16z is increasingly investing in defense companies, including Palmer Luckey’s controversial startup Anduril, which makes autonomous weapons. Is war the problem these companies are solving? What does “resolve” mean in the context of conflicts like the ongoing war in Israel and Gaza? Isn’t the true solution the end of the conflict?
Another inconsistency lies in Andreessen’s claim that “technological innovation in a market system is inherently philanthropic, in a 50:1 ratio.” He references economist William Nordhaus’s claim that those who create technology only retain 2% of its economic value, so the other 98% “flows into society.”
“Who gets more value from a new technology, the single company that makes it or the millions or billions of people who use it to improve their lives?” Andreessen asks.
We won’t lie and say that tech startups haven’t made our lives easier. If we leave too late and the subway doesn’t run, we can take an Uber or Lyft. If we want to buy a book and have it delivered to our doors at the end of the day, we can order it on Amazon. But to deny the negative impacts of these companies is to advance through the world with blinders raised.
Furthermore, it is implicit – but not stated in Andreessen’s argument – that these platforms have effectively turned large sections of society into tenants, and the platforms into landlords. Maybe you need a refresher on the evils of “rentier economyAnd how antithetical is it to innovators and entrepreneurship?
When was the last time Marc Andreessen walked the streets of San Francisco, where wealthy tech workers pretend not to see the homeless encampments outside their company headquarters?
When was the last time Marc Andreessen spoke to a poor person, or an Instacart shopper struggling to make ends meet?
Andreessen’s argument is a contemporary reprise of trickle-down economics, the notorious Reagan-era idea that as the rich get richer, some of that wealth will “trickle down” to the poor. But this theory has been repeatedly discredited. Again: Are Amazon warehouse workers really getting their fair share?
At one point, Andreessen argues that free markets “prevent monopolies” because the “market naturally disciplines.” As any third-party Amazon seller, or anyone who has tried to get Eras Tour tickets, will tell you, this is a point that can be easily refuted. Andreessen may argue that the US market is not truly “free” in the sense that it is regulated by agencies and legislators who empower those agencies to enforce policies. But the United States has had its fair share of periods of laissez-faire technology oversight, and each of them has spawned—not stifled—tech giants strongly inclined to crush competition.
Andreessen’s motivations are further crystallized when he makes a list of those he considers his enemies.
In that section, he lists what, in his opinion, has subjugated society to “massive demoralization.” In this list there is a mention of the United Nations Sustainable development goals (SDG), the 17 goals that were created to inspire nations to fight for peace. According to Andreessen, these are the so-called enemies “against technology and life”: environmental sustainability, the reduction of gender inequalities, the elimination of poverty or hunger and more good jobs.
How do these 17 goals go against technology and life, when technology is already being used to achieve more life, is already being used to produce clean water, alleviate mass production and generate clean energy? He has a vague and empty way of writing that leaves more questions than answers; creates the idea that you have probably never read the 17 Sustainable Goals and are instead using them as a keyword for something else. Andreessen then denounces ESG stakeholder capitalism, technology ethics, trust and security, and risk management as enemies of his cause.
What are you really trying to say, Marc? That regulation and accountability are bad? That we should pursue the development of technology at the expense of everything else, in the hope that the world will be better if Amazon’s stock rises above $200 per share?
Andreessen has a coded way of speaking in general, so it’s no wonder he feels so offended by the UN’s goals of supporting those most at risk. He talks about the planet being “dramatically underpopulated” and specifically points out the way “developed societies” are declining in population, an apparent endorsement of one of the fundamental principles of pronatalism. He wants there to be 50 billion people on Earth (and then for some of us to colonize outer space) and says “markets” can generate the money needed to fund social welfare programs. (We must repeat the question: has this man been to San Francisco lately?) He also mentions that Universal Basic Income would “turn people into zoo animals to be raised by the State.” (Sam Altman would certainly disagree.) He wants us to work, to be productive, to “be proud.”
The missing link here is how we can use technology to truly care for people; how to feed them, clothe them, how to make sure the planet doesn’t reach temperatures so high that we simply melt. What’s missing here is that San Francisco is already the technological center of the world and one of the most unequal places in the universe, both socially and economically. What’s missing here is that the technological revolution made it easier to call an Uber or order food delivery, but it did nothing about how those drivers and delivery people are exploited, and how technology/2019/may/07/the-uber-drivers-forced-to-sleep-in-parking-lots-to-make-a-decent-living”>some live in their cars to maintain a decent salary.
There are lines and lines to analyze in his manifesto, but it all goes back to the point that what is missing here is life: the element of living and all its nuances. Take a “you’re for technology” or “against it” approach to using productivity to help improve lives. He talks about the economic frameworks around which life revolves, not to mention the intricate ways it actually impacts people.
Many tech giants talk about creating a world they don’t dominate. We watch as Meta founder Mark Zuckerberg “moves fast and breaks things” and then ends up testifying before Congress about election interference. We see how OpenAI founder Sam Altman draws parallel between him and Robert Oppenheimer, without stopping to think much about whether or not it is good to push the limits of technological innovation at any price.
Andreessen is a product – and an engineer – of a tech bubble that doesn’t understand the people it aims to serve.
