Use of scripts:“Human Networks Imagine a kingdom in ancient Mesopotamia around 2000 BCE, where the king is a distant figure, ruling over thousands of people he has never met. How does he maintain control over a vast territory, stretching across rivers and deserts, with people speaking different dialects and living scattered in remote villages? He doesn’t rely solely on soldiers or personal visits but instead turns to stories and scribes. These scribes, the bureaucrats of their day, meticulously record the king’s decrees on clay tablets, which are then spread across the land. As these tablets make their way from city to city, the king's word becomes law, and his influence spreads. In this ancient society, information isn’t just a list of rules but a lifeline that holds everything together. The stories told by mythmakers about divine kingship convince people of their ruler’s legitimacy. The scribes, in their role, enforce those stories through documentation. These two forces — mythology and bureaucracy — create an intricate network that sustains the king’s rule. Without stories, the king’s power would falter; without bureaucrats, those stories wouldn’t reach the people. Now, fast forward to the height of the Roman Empire. Bureaucracy has evolved into a more powerful machine, and mythology has taken on the guise of religious narratives. The Christian Church, for example, relies heavily on both. By 325 CE, the Council of Nicaea convenes to standardize Christian doctrine. But who ensures the Bible is spread, copied, and taught accurately? It’s the bureaucrats of the Church, working alongside the mythmakers who shape and refine the narratives of faith. Together, they create a vast network that links the empire through shared belief and structured administration. However, this delicate balance between myth and bureaucracy isn’t always perfect. Take medieval Europe, where church authorities often found themselves at odds with new ideas. The Catholic Church, relying heavily on its sacred texts, resisted self-correcting mechanisms that could challenge its authority. As the centuries passed, the lack of strong corrective systems contributed to incidents like the witch hunts, which wreaked havoc under misguided beliefs. The stories held power, but the truth got lost in the process. One quote from the book captures this tension: "Institutions and societies are often defined by the balance they manage to find between the conflicting needs of their mythmakers and their bureaucrats." This shows that information isn’t just about knowledge; it’s about how societies organize themselves and how power flows through myths and laws. As we move forward, the question of how networks of power control truth becomes more complicated. In the next section, we will explore how the rise of computers changes the way humans manage information, and how these inorganic networks reshape the entire foundation of society. The Inorganic Network In the late 1950s, a small room in MIT is filled with the hum of machines. These early computers, bulky and inefficient by today’s standards, mark the beginning of a revolution that no one could have fully predicted. At the time, they were simply tools for number crunching, but as decades passed, something remarkable happened. Computers didn’t just assist with human tasks; they started to reshape the very nature of how we organize and process information. By the 1980s, a young software engineer is working on a breakthrough in artificial intelligence. This technology doesn’t just process data; it learns. From those first neural networks to more advanced AI systems like Deep Blue, which famously beat chess grandmaster Garry Kasparov in 1997, the shift is clear: the network of information is no longer just human. Machines, like chess-playing computers, aren’t bound by the constraints of biology, sleep, or error in the same way humans are. As AI continues to advance, its influence grows far beyond games. In 2016, a system called AlphaGo defeats one of the world’s best Go players, illustrating that AI can now handle complexities beyond what humans could process alone. In this new world, information networks aren’t just aiding human decisions; they are beginning to make those decisions for us. Algorithms on social media platforms, for example, dictate what billions of people see, shaping their perceptions, politics, and relationships. The computers that once relied on human input are now feeding us the information they think we need. But this always-on network has its dangers. Machines, unlike human-run networks, aren’t fallible in the same way. They don't tire or forget, but they also don't have moral judgment or understanding of the broader impact of their decisions. In 2018, a self-driving car caused a fatal accident due to a miscalculation—a stark reminder that, while inorganic networks can be incredibly efficient, they can also be dangerously flawed. As these systems grow, they challenge the human-centric view of the world. The book reflects on this shift with the observation: "Silicon chips can create spies that never sleep, financiers that never forget, and despots that never die." This captures both the promise and peril of these inorganic networks. Unlike human-run systems, AI and computers are relentless in their operation, but they lack the ethical frameworks that we rely on in human decision-making. Looking ahead, as computers gain more control over everything from finances to warfare, the question becomes: who controls these machines? And, as we’ll see in the next section, this brings us to the heart of the political debate—how will democracies and authoritarian regimes alike grapple with the rise of AI? The inorganic network has changed the game, but the biggest question still remains: can we govern the machines, or will they govern us? Computer Politics In 2020, a politician stands on a debate stage, but instead of relying on carefully crafted speeches or policy papers, he’s armed with something more powerful—data. His campaign team has access to advanced AI systems that can predict voter behavior, tailor messages to individual preferences, and flood social media feeds with precisely timed ads. Across the globe, similar strategies are being employed, and not just in democracies. In authoritarian regimes, leaders rely on AI to monitor citizens, predict dissent, and control the flow of information. The political battlefield has changed, and at its center lies the question of who controls the algorithms shaping our world. In the democratic world, the challenge is maintaining a conversation. The algorithms that feed people information, determine what news they see, and even what products they buy are increasingly opaque. People are not just debating policies; they’re debating realities crafted by machine-driven narratives. One voter’s news feed shows climate change protests; another’s shows articles denying it’s even happening. In this fragmented landscape, democracies struggle to foster any shared understanding. As one politician from 2022 pointed out, “How can we have a functioning society when no one is seeing the same reality?” In more autocratic systems, AI provides a different kind of power. Leaders like China’s Xi Jinping and Russia’s Vladimir Putin use AI to enhance surveillance, censor information, and manage dissent. In these regimes, AI is a tool of control. In 2024, China expanded its social credit system, allowing AI to determine a citizen’s access to everything from loans to travel, based on their behavior both online and offline. The system is efficient, relentless, and deeply embedded in the daily lives of millions. But while it gives leaders more power, it also creates a fragile system. AI’s blind spots—its inability to understand nuance or human ethics—make it a ticking time bomb in autocratic societies. One particularly chilling line from the book captures this dichotomy: "AI might come to divide not one group of humans from another, but rather all humans from our new AI overlords." Both democracies and totalitarian regimes are vulnerable to AI’s uncontrollable nature, but in very different ways. In one, the danger lies in fragmentation; in the other, in over-centralization. As these new political realities take shape, the question is no longer just about governance but about survival. Can democracies preserve open discourse when machines are controlling the flow of information? Can authoritarian regimes maintain power when AI’s mistakes could lead to mass unrest? And, crucially, can the world avoid a new global rivalry fueled by these technologies? Information networks have the potential to unite societies by spreading knowledge and creating shared experiences, as seen in moments like the moon landing. However, they also deceive, as misinformation and conspiracy theories thrive alongside truth. With AI now shaping these networks, control becomes even murkier. Algorithms decide what information we see, but lack moral judgment or human understanding. Democracies risk fragmentation, while authoritarian regimes rely on AI for control, raising critical questions: Can we govern these systems, or will they ultimately govern us? As we conclude this journey, it’s clear the stakes are high. AI is not just changing how we live, but how we’re governed. ” Title Usage:“Nexus: A Brief History of Information Networks from the Stone Age to AI · IS AI HUMANKIND'S MOST SIGNIFICANT INVENTION-OR OUR LAST ONE?” Content in English. Title in English.Bilingual English-Chinese subtitles. This is a comprehensive summary of the book Using Hollywood production values and cinematic style. Music is soft. Characters are portrayed as European and American