In 1984, the public was introduced to the scientific imaginings of James Cameron when The Terminator was released. The film depicted a post-apocalyptic hellscape in which humanity is in a desperate war against a powerful AI, Skynet. Skynet, having gained self-awareness, perceives humans as a threat and initiates a nuclear apocalypse to eradicate them. After the devastation, Skynet’s forces, primarily composed of highly advanced machines and cyborgs, continues to battle the human resistance led by John Connor.
The cultural impact of The Terminator persists all these years later, with its bleak picture of humanity after the creation of artificial intelligence often at the forefront of concerns when deliberating what may be in store for us as this technology grows ever more sophisticated. While indeed a terrifying prospect, the true face of AI is far more insidious. Unlike the dramatic visions of a future where AI seizes control through overtly violent means, today’s AI is engineered as a more subtle and methodical weapon – one wielded by global elites and technocrats with chilling precision. Rather than a dramatic uprising of sentient machines, the real threat lies in the slow, almost imperceptible erosion of workers’ rights and the entrenchment of control by powerful corporations.
Much of what has been written within popular culture is often based on two languid binaries. As alluded to above, the first is that AI will overthrow its human overseers and attempt to subjugate them in numerous ways. The second is that they will be humanity’s ultimate redemption. These two extremes distract both layman and scholar from the various sinister ways that AI threatens to harm the very citizens seduced by the sheer magnitude of what it can do for them, such as the destruction of creative industries, the perpetuation of sexism and racism and the further entrenchment of the economic divide.
However, within the academic milieu, theorists tend to reinforce a more pragmatic understanding of the trajectory of humanity’s relationship with AI and unequivocally state that a Terminator-style apocalyptic future is relatively unlikely. Continuing to draw from science fiction, the genre that often dares to stare into the abyss that academia merely peers into, Ghost in the Shell (1995) by Japanese filmmaker Mamoru Oshii is a more plausible take on the outcome of a society hurtling down the superhighway of technological advancement. A glimpse into Oshii’s dystopian world: the practice of cybernetic enhancements has eroded the lines between AI and humanity so deeply that the next logical step is to develop an artificial body or ‘shell’ that can integrate the human brain. Although the reality of such human augmentation may seem light years away, we mustn’t forget that there has already been an ‘explosive growth’ in technological artefacts that can be worn or implanted to enhance human biological functioning, such as the cochlear implant. Much can of course be gained from these biotechnical advances, but the question of who will have access to these life-enhancing artefacts must be at the forefront of a criminological imagination. Technocrat Elon Musk mused that the only way humanity could stay one step ahead of AI in the battle for dominance was to become cyborgs, stating that there would be few jobs that a robot could not do ‘better’ than its human counterpart. In a world where the corporate giants reign supreme, this thinking could lead to a whole host of industries making six-million-dollar men out of anyone who can afford it.
This discrepancy in who can access the ‘new’ digital tools shaping our world has become a hot topic, with many scholars debating how to address and close the digital divide. However, making sense of inequality in a technologically advanced society in this way may no longer be valid. Although there may be some division in the type and quality of the technology people across the social strata may be able to reach, due to the bleeding of the digital into the physical realm, everyone is in contact with this ‘Brave New World’. Moreover, the human cyborg is not waiting on the fringes of the not-so-distant future to make irreversible changes to humanity; they are already here. We are not divided by technology; we are limited in how we participate in this new and ‘improved version’ of contemporary life. Since Julian Huxley pondered a future where humanity became augmented with technology in his 1957 essay ‘Transhumanism’, a movement of the same name has gained traction and a roster of high-profile followers. Transhumanists have long since discussed further advancement of our species, which they describe as a post-human state achieved through technological advancement. Their vision is akin to the cartoonish worlds created by Stan Lee, whereby superhuman beings have evolved to surpass their flawed human cousins. The augmented human sits at the top of the new chains of human advancement; these new beings will be more robust and have far superior intellectual capabilities.
Although humanity is some way off from achieving its complete evolutionary advancement through a total and successful symbiosis between humans and machines, we are at least some way down this evolutionary path. From the constant use of the smartphone, our ‘fifth limb’, and the plethora of apps that can be used to get in shape, learn new skills and find the best potential mates, the Luddite can no longer function within contemporary society. Those willing to make an educated wager should, at this point, be placing their chips on the development of an inequitable post-human society. The forefathers of AI, Sam Altman and Demis Hassabis, were adamant that they wanted to harness its humanity-altering potential for the good of humanity. Allowing corporate monoliths such as Google to gain dominance could result in irreversible damage, much in the same way the industrial revolution has led to disastrous climate destruction. Moreover, with all the detrimental effects of any seismic shift in global economic systems, those who will be first to bear the brunt will not be the ones whose home exists within the ‘exclusive metropolitan cloud of the elite’.
Corporations with a legacy of placing profit over the good of society have already gained a monopoly over AI. They use it to replace, monitor or coerce their workforces. Companies like General Motors and Ford have already jumped at the chance to use increasingly automated production lines with AI and robotics in the US auto industry, displacing thousands of assembly line workers. Shifts in automation are not limited to production lines but are also seeping into the retail sector. Walmart uses AI to manage employee schedules, determining shifts based on predicted customer demand. Workers often have little say in their hours, leading to unstable and unpredictable schedules. Moreover, like many others who had already replaced the friendly cashier with the self-checkout, Walmart is now streamlining its inventory management, resulting in further losses to the human workforce. This has led to the ‘creation’ of Amazon Go stores, which are marketed as fully AI-powered through cameras and AI-operated sensors. Although the only humans in the shop are the customers in awe of this new shopping experience, all is not as it seems: the AI is in fact a poorly paid workforce hidden away in India. Conversely, customers who marvel at Amazon’s Fugazi stores are also distraught when their Amazon parcel gets lost in transit and can now not reach a human voice to vent their frustrations, as this automation process has also reached online customer services. Where once call centres were closed in the UK in favour of a cheaper workforce in the Global South, these centres are now the ones left abandoned as the call bot has become a more lucrative prospect.
Even jobs that are so far safe from automation are increasingly monitored by AI systems. Amazon has been using AI systems such as cameras, sensors and performance algorithms to monitor workers’ movements in real time, tracking metrics such as ‘time off task’ (TOT). Foxconn, a major Apple supplier, is another user of AI-driven systems to optimise production workflows and minimise costs, resulting in highly efficient but exploitative labour practices. Even away from the technological sweatshops of the Chinese tech markets, Microsoft has also begun to implement the same exploitative ‘AI-driven productivity software’ in its corporate offices. These digital panopticons within the workplace lead to employees working long hours for lower pay under harsh conditions, with increased anxiety and reduced job satisfaction. This further compounds Fisher’s dire picture of capitalist realism, a picture in which, no matter the technological marvels that present themselves as if by some miraculous intervention, we still cannot imagine a scenario where AI helps to create a world without the oppression of capitalism on the working class. Moreover, these examples are just the tip of the iceberg. Each technological advancement that AI brings to the corporate boardrooms of the physical and digital world will impact all intersections of global society.
Social sciences must recognise AI’s threats to society rather than keep kicking the can down the road. Criminology, specifically, has always been slow to grapple with how technological advancements could impact society in terms of crime, let alone in terms of harm. Due to criminology’s reluctance to look further than its own myopic understanding of technology, we are often left with a void that is only filled with a surface-level discussion of AI. The research so far seems to be fixated on how AI can be misappropriated by society’s ‘bad apples’ and less on how we are all once again handing the digital manacles of our exploitation to Apple et al.
Kyla Bavin is Lecturer in Criminology at Birmingham City University. Adam Lynes is Associate Professor in Criminology at Birmingham City University. James Treadwell is Professor of Criminology at Staffordshire University. Max Hart is a Lecturer in Criminology at Birmingham City University.
Crimes of the Powerful and the Contemporary Condition by Adam Lynes, James Treadwell and Kyla Bavin is available here for £27.99 on the Bristol University Press website.
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