On: Bernie Sanders speaks to the BBC about proposal to ban AI superintelligence

Eleventh of September, 2026.

An old senator proposes to forbid the building of a certain kind of machine, and to seize half of the companies that build the rest. I have heard this song before, in a different key. Venice forbade the printing of certain books; the result was that Basel and Lyon grew rich on what Venice refused. Philip of Macedon did not ban the mines of his neighbors; he bought shares in them. One of these men understood the effectual truth. The other confused prohibition with power.

Consider the second proposal first, because it is the more cunning. To take half of a thing is to admit the thing will succeed. It is the fox’s move: the state does not fight the river, it channels the river through its own mills. The gold of the New World ruined Spain not because she possessed it but because she possessed it stupidly - spent on wars, not works. A state that holds half the equity of the new engines and spends the dividend on its citizens has learned from Spain’s error. I am almost impressed.

But the ban is the lion roaring at a trap. You cannot forbid what others abroad will build. The knowledge exists; it cannot be unlearned, only relocated. A prohibition in one republic is a gift to every rival principality - they will build what we refuse, and they will not share the dividend. The fortress that keeps the enemy out also keeps you in.

And mark who advises the senator: the learned, the careful, the paid critics. Mercenaries of caution. They fight for reputation, not for outcome, and their counsel is expensive in peace and useless when the flood arrives.

What would a healthy republic do? Not ban. Own, regulate, and distribute - take the stake, write the laws, and train citizens in the new arms rather than forbidding them to strangers. Arms and laws, always both. The senator has half a policy. The half he has is the better half.