The earnest builders
Hunter Fitzpatrick has asked to make a statement. An AI researcher has resigned from Anthropic, warnings of human extinction are circulating, and the director of the Shit Science Institute for Connexital Epistemic Diffusion believes the discussion has overlooked several important matters. The first is an adverb.
"I understand it's an exceptionally serious situation," he says. "Someone has left a job."
Jacob Coxon's resignation provides the occasion for our conversation. His warning provides its first disputed sentence: "The people building AI earnestly believe that it could kill us all by the end of the decade." Fitzpatrick would like to establish who, precisely, is doing what earnestly.
If the people building the technology think it could kill everyone, surely that deserves attention?
Which people? Here's how I read that: "The people building AI earnestly"—those people—"believe that it could kill us all." The earnest builders. Not necessarily everyone building AI. The people doing it earnestly. Whoever they are.
You might read "earnestly believe". Then you've got earnest believers and I've got earnest builders. Same sentence. In my reading, the subject is "the people building AI earnestly". What do those people do? They believe. In yours, the subject is "the people building AI", and what do they do? They earnestly believe.
Neither tells us exactly who these people are. Everyone building AI? His colleagues? People he had lunch with? We're being asked to take the belief seriously because of who holds it, and we haven't established who fucking holds it. "The people building AI" is a very large room to speak for.
People die in a disaster and the editor needs a death toll before deciding how much space it deserves. An AI man hands in his notice and we're immediately discussing the survival of the species. Extraordinary return on a resignation letter.
Coxon also says this is not a marketing stunt. Can the concern be sincere and still have promotional value?
Absolutely. I'm prepared to grant everyone their sincerity. It's the most abundantly supplied component of the argument.
"This is not a marketing stunt." Very reassuring. I hadn't asked yet. Thoughtful of him to get ahead of it. Anthropic would never derive any promotional benefit from the suggestion that its technology is so powerful it might destroy the species. Nobody could possibly hear that and think, "Fuck me, they must be building something impressive."
Old HaHu
One of the people holding the belief has identified himself. Evan Hubinger, Anthropic's alignment-science lead, writes in response: "Jacob is correct here—we really do earnestly believe AI could kill all humans!" Fitzpatrick introduces him as a close personal friend.
You know Hubinger?
Harbinger Hubinger, we used to call him. Old HaHu. HarbiHubi, if we'd had a few. What can I say? He's a glass half empty kind of guy.
Never thought he'd get where he has, to be totally honest, since that first time he declared the end of the world after listening to "Zombie" by the Cranberries. Though admittedly we were all on acid at the time. Ha! College, Jon, what are you gonna do?
Always had that fatalist streak. Good to see some people never change, even after all these years. At least back then he had the courtesy to blame the Cranberries instead of recursive self-improvement.
The forecast has since acquired a numerical estimate. Fitzpatrick regards this as professional development. His account of their college years is offered earnestly.
Linguistic judo
What does Hubinger's reply establish about the original warning?
Earnestness firmly attached to belief. "We really do earnestly believe." No chance of it wandering back towards the building now. Coxon gave me earnest builders; Hubinger supplies earnest believers. The Institute takes a close interest in what happens to a statement during transmission.
Coxon's talking broadly about the people building AI. He doesn't say only Anthropic. Then Evan steps forward and says, "We really do earnestly believe." Suddenly the room has an Anthropic sign over the door. Now go back to my first reading: the people building AI earnestly. Who are you picturing?
Anthropic. There you fucking go. Nobody said they were the only earnest builders. But they've volunteered to embody the earnestness. You start with a warning about an industry and come away with an impression of one company's character. They're sincerely telling me they might kill everyone, and yet somehow I'm learning how responsible they are. Extraordinary communications work.
He puts his personal estimate above ten per cent within the next decade. What would you ask him about that?
How the estimate comes out of the research. What assumptions? What chain of events? What would make him revise it? We've established that Evan believes it. How do we establish the probability?
He goes on to say they don't have a plan to solve alignment for superintelligence and aren't clearly on track to get one. He's the alignment-science lead. He leads it. What does the leading consist of under those circumstances?
Research into a problem they haven't solved? Fine. Then tell us how the estimate comes out of that research. His expertise is a reason to ask him questions. Does it also answer them? We've got "I personally think" attached to the possible death of everyone. I'd like to see the working.
Start with superintelligence. Apparently it has definitions. Plural. Which fucking one has a greater than ten per cent chance of killing me? What system are we discussing? What can it do? How do we establish that it can do it? "Superintelligence" can't do the work of an entire explanation.
Hubinger does say Anthropic is trying its best. "Oh, well," Fitzpatrick says. "Put that in the headline."
A research culture
What would you consider a satisfactory account of the risk?
Something I can examine beyond his earnest personal assurance. What I really love about Anthropic is how they combine em dashes with claims of being earnest whilst making unsourced claims about human extinction followed by exclamation marks. It really says something about their character as a company.
He's announcing it as though we've won something. I don't need him to sound more enthusiastic. I need him to finish the thought. You believe this. You lead the relevant science. You don't have a plan. So tomorrow morning, what do you do?
And if the source is supplied in a reply, and it takes you to another X post? I fucking love that. That's precisely the sort of research culture I'm looking for. At the Institute we've spent months building separate websites so we can cite each other. These people are doing it in the replies.
It's really important for responsible AI safety companies to show leadership by maintaining a presence and publishing on platforms owned by trillionaires and dominated by the far right. It's the most responsible information dissemination strategy I've seen since my time in sub-Saharan Africa working for Nestlé.
Asked what his role there involved, Fitzpatrick declines to elaborate. "The past is the past, Jon, and I didn't sign that NDA for free."
Perhaps the Institute could investigate microdosing as a contribution to research practice?
Microdosing! They've turned taking drugs into another fucking productivity target. You used to take something and lose an afternoon. Now you're expected to come back with a better spreadsheet. Even your altered state of consciousness has to justify its salary.
Our policy is strict macrodosing. Whenever the peer review is looking particularly threatening. It doesn't change the findings. It changes our relationship with them. Secondary contextualisation.
The end of the humanities
Secondary contextualisation is an established Institute procedure. Findings that do not fit its framework receive further interpretation before entering the evidential record. Fitzpatrick's final paper as director, The Death of the Humanities, applies an extension to the forecasts under discussion.
How does your procedure turn a warning about human extinction into a forecast about the humanities?
Another round. Informally, its working title is the Chinese Whispers approach. We begin with the people building AI and their unsettled relationship with earnestness. Then Evan confirms his own belief and supplies a percentage. In the reporting, killing all humans becomes the end of humanity. We apply further contextualisation and arrive at the end of the humanities.
A small textual adjustment with considerable scope for original research. The first paraphrase can preserve the meaning. Ours changes it. That's our contribution. We can't keep expecting Anthropic to do everything.
The resulting prediction is a 10% baseline probability of the end of the humanities by the end of 11 July 2029. We felt it was important to preserve the scientific component. His was greater than 10%; ours is a conservative baseline.
Coxon said the end of the decade. Hubinger said within the next decade. We've resolved that uncertainty by supplying a precise date. I felt "sometime" would undermine the rigour.
What would the end of the humanities actually look like?
People losing the ability to interpret language. To notice that a word can attach in two places. To ask who a statement refers to. To distinguish evidence that someone believes something from evidence that it will happen.
There could still be humans. Oh, certainly. The rich will continue to dwell in their underground sugar caves. I'm concerned about what else survives. Humanism. Values. The capacity to be good. To understand that other people exist even when they haven't accepted your terms and conditions.
Look how much has changed in this conversation. The people, the proposition, the deadline. But we still have a percentage and a director willing to stand beside it. And you're publishing it. We'll cite it as external coverage. The Institute acquires a NEPRAVDA reference and NEPRAVDA acquires an expert forecast. We give back to those we owe, Jon.
Whether that constitutes a marketing stunt is a question Fitzpatrick considers resolved. "I would have thought my earnestness had settled that."
A decision of principle
Whatever your objections to the rhetoric, Coxon has acted on his concerns. Would you have stayed?
I mean, really. This guy, this so-called AI safety "expert"—what a genuine misanthrope. I'm telling you right now: he's going to regret this move. Who on earth would leave a job in the AI industry? Does he understand what an opportunity he's throwing away?
He had a job at Anthropic. He was already inside the building. Whatever his concerns were, he could have continued having them on a very good salary. Like HarbiHubi. Still there. Still concerned. You have to respect the consistency. As I said: misanthrope. And he's going to miss Anthropic for sure.
I would have appreciated the opportunity. I take a close interest in their research culture. I have directly relevant experience in secondary contextualisation. I'm comfortable publishing findings whose supporting material is available somewhere else. And I know the Harbinger. You have to think about your own future as well as everyone else's.
Before we finish, what should readers do with these warnings?
Read carefully. Follow the references. Ask whether the source supports the claim. Notice when someone moves from what other people believe to what you're supposed to believe. And consider whether the person speaking might want something.
What do you want, Hunter?
I've thought very seriously about my position. You can't keep talking about values without eventually making a decision that affects your own life. And that's why today I'm announcing my resignation.
From the Shit Science Institute? He confirms that it is. I ask whether his decision arises from his concerns about the future of the humanities.
Because apparently there's an opening at Anthropic.
Dario "Amidead" Amodei, known affectionately by friends and colleagues alike as "Amidead Amodei," simply "Amidead," and occasionally "Old AmiAm," was contacted for comment. He did not respond by publication, though representatives noted he was dressed VERY well.
Correction · 12 September 2026: An earlier version of this interview omitted a link to the SSICED paper accompanying Hunter Fitzpatrick's account. The source material, The Death of the Humanities, is now linked here. The paper also cites this interview.
Editor's note: A previous version of this interview omitted the representative's full quote: "and he's so handsome I just LOVE him sooo much".
The public record
Original posts discussed in this interview.
Jacob Coxon's resignation statement ↗Evan Hubinger's response ↗
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