To be human is, fundamentally, to be a forecaster. Occasionally a pretty good one. Trying to see the future, whether through the lens of past experience or the logic of cause and effect, has helped us hunt, avoid being hunted, plant crops, forge social bonds, and in general survive in a world that does not prioritize our survival. Indeed, as the tools of divination have changed over the centuries, from tea leaves to data sets, our conviction that the future can be known (and therefore controlled) has only grown stronger. Today, we are awash in a sea of predictions so vast and unrelenting that most of us barely even register them. As I write this sentence, algorithms on some remote server are busy trying to guess my next word based on those I have already typed. If you’re reading this online, a separate set of algorithms has likely already served you an ad deemed to be one you are most likely to click. (To the die-hards reading this story on paper, congratulations! You have escaped the algorithms … for now.) If the thought of a ubiquitous, mostly invisible predictive layer secretly grafted onto your life by a bunch of profit-hungry corporations makes you uneasy … well, same here. So how did all this happen? People’s desire for reliable forecasting is understandable. Still, nobody signed up for an omnipresent, algorithmic oracle mediating every aspect of their life. A trio of new books tries to make sense of our future-focused world—how we got here, and what this change means. Each has its own prescriptions for navigating this new reality, but they all agree on one thing: Predictions are ultimately about power and control. The Means of Prediction: How AI Really Works (and Who Benefits)Maximilian KasyUNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO PRESS, 2025 In The Means of Prediction: How AI Really Works (and Who Benefits), the Oxford economist Maximilian Kasy explains how most predictions in our lives are based on the statistical analysis of patterns in large, labeled data sets—what’s known in AI circles as supervised learning. Once “trained” on such data sets, algorithms for supervised learning can be presented with all kinds of new information and then deliver their best guess as to some specific future outcome. Will you violate your parole, pay off your mortgage, get promoted if hired, perform well on your college exams, be in your home when it gets bombed? More and more, our lives are shaped (and, yes, occasionally shortened) by a machine’s answer to these questions. If the thought of a ubiquitous, mostly invisible predictive layer secretly grafted onto your life by a bunch of profit-hungry corporations makes you uneasy … well, same here. This arrangement is leading to a crueler, blander, more instrumentalized world, one where life’s possibilities are foreclosed, age-old prejudices are entrenched, and everyone’s brain seems to be actively turning into goo. It’s an outcome, according to Kasy, that was entirely predictable. AI adherents might frame those consequences as “unintended,” or mere problems of optimization and alignment. Kasy, on the other hand, argues that they represent the system working as intended. “If an algorithm selecting what you see on social media promotes outrage, thereby maximizing engagement and ad clicks,” he writes, “that’s because promoting outrage is good for profits from ad sales.” The same holds true for an algorithm that nixes job candidates “who are likely to have family-care responsibilities outside the workplace,” and the ones that “screen out people who are likely to develop chronic health problems or disabilities.” What’s good for a company’s bottom line may not be good for your job-hunting prospects or life expectancy. Where Kasy differs from other critics is that he doesn’t think working to create less biased, more equitable algorithms will fix any of this. Trying to rebalance the scales can’t change the fact that predictive algorithms rely on past data that’s often racist, sexist, and flawed in countless other ways. And, he says, the incentives for profit will always trump attempts to eliminate harm. The only way to counter this is with broad democratic control over what Kasy calls “the means of prediction”: data, computational infrastructure, technical expertise, and energy. A little more than half of The Means of Prediction is devoted to explaining how this might be accomplished—through mechanisms including “data trusts” (collective public bodies that make decisions about how to process and use data on behalf of their contributors) and corporate taxing schemes that try to account for the social harm AI inflicts. There’s a lot of economist talk along the way, about how “agents of change” might help achieve “value alignment” in order to “maximize social welfare.” Reasonable, I guess, though a skeptic might point out that Kasy’s rigorous, systematic approach to building new public-serving institutions comes at a time when public trust in institutions has never been lower. Also, there’s the brain goo problem. To his credit, Kasy is a realist here. He doesn’t presume that any of these proposals will be easy to implement. Or that it will happen overnight, or even in the near future. The troubling question at the end his book is: Do we have that kind of time? Reading Kasy’s blueprint for seizing control of the means of prediction raises another pressing question. How on earth did we reach a point where machine-mediated prediction is more or less inescapable? Capitalism, might be Marx’s pithy response. Fine, as far as it goes, but that doesn’t explain why the same kinds of algorithms that currently model climate change are for some reason also deciding whether you get a new kidney or I get a car loan. The Irrational Decision: How We Gave Computers the Power to Choose for UsBenjamin RechtPRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS, 2026 If you ask Benjamin Recht, author of The Irrational Decision: How We Gave Computers the Power to Choose for Us, he’d likely tell you our current predicament has a lot to do with the idea and ideology of decision theory—or what economists call rational choice theory.