Copy
I’m going to start this newsletter with something new: a recommendation for a movie. “Turn Every Page,” a soon-to-be released film about the relationship between Robert Caro and his book editor, Robert Gottlieb. Caro is a near saintly figure, dropped from the best parts of the 18th century into today. His comes across as nearly egoless, writing his Lyndon Johnson epic in longhand before he transfers it to his typewriter. His seeks to help the world understand power—real power, as actually practiced. That could, he says, help democracy function better. He interviews everyone. He moves to the Hill Country of Texas to understand his subject. Now, he’s racing the actuarial tables. He’s 87-years old, covering about a year of LBJ’s life every year of his. The only regret I had watching the movie is that I don’t want the man to be distracted by anything. He’s got to finish. Fortunately, I doubt he has a cell phone.
 
Gottlieb, his editor for fifty years, is less saintly but no less interesting. His motivations seem more varied and less pure. He’s working through his demons and his past. But he’s doing so in the service of knowledge, literature, and beauty. Over and over, he makes the essential point about editing. The point isn’t to make a book, or essay, one’s own. The point is to read carefully and to bring out the best in the writer, as Gottlieb has done so many hundreds of times. The title is of course an exhortation to us. We should read all that Caro has written. It’s what Gottlieb does—reading every manuscript immediately when it comes in. Lastly, it’s the lesson that Caro was taught as a young reporter at Newsday going through documents. The one thing you have to remember, his editor says, is to turn every page.
 
My other recommendations for the week come mostly from tech; that’s where what might be the three biggest stories of the month in America are coming right now. There’s the important one: the rise of ChatGPT and the stunning recent breakthroughs in Generative AI. There’s the riveting one: the Elon Musk tsunami at Twitter. And there’s the Shakespearian one: the rise and fall of Sam Bankman Fried.
 
There have been many brilliant essays on all three. If you want to feel optimistic about Open AI and what this tech means, I recommend Kevin Kelly in Wired. He makes the case that Dall-E, the incredible tool that can produce the images of your dreams in seconds, will only improve art. Jobs will be created; new forms of beauty will be imagined. Others are more skeptical. I greatly enjoyed this episode of the podcast Hard Fork, and this essay explaining the limitations of Chat.GPT. My favorite example of the weaknesses is this Twitter thread, which really needs to be read in full. Of course, it can still be pretty darn good. See for example, this, which I just typed in:
 
In three sentences, please tell me what the relationship should be between a writer and an editor
 
The relationship between a writer and an editor should be collaborative and respectful, with both parties working together to refine and improve the content. The editor's role is to help the writer improve the clarity, concision, and overall quality of the writing, while the writer should be open to feedback and willing to consider and implement the editor's suggestions. Effective communication and mutual respect are key to a successful working relationship between a writer and an editor.
 
All of that is true. And pretty good for a machine.
 
To understand Sam Bankman-Fried, it’s helpful to have clarity on exactly the grifts he was running. It’s also helpful to understand the role in the grift played by his connection to effective altruism—the philosophical notion that one should dedicate life in every way to helping others in the most efficient ways possible. Does moral certainty lead one to turn one’s eyes away from what should be obvious? If you want a fabulous in-depth look at how crypto works, you can’t do better than this piece by Matt Levine. And the most fun new website I’ve seen this year is the snarky, but on-point, “web three is going just great.”
 
With Musk, I loved this essay by Ezra Klein in the New York Times, making the case that what the world needs now is the opposite of what Twitter has become. There needs to be a place online that is calm and deliberative, where people can think collaboratively. I was also taken by these two short essays by Robin Sloan about what it’s like to leave the platform. Fortunately, there are people working on alternatives. You’ll hear a lot more about one of them in future editions.
 
Of course, there are other stories in the world right now too. If you want to laugh, you should always read Helen Lewis, particularly as she describes Harry and Meghan. Benedict Evans’ recent essay on the metaverse and its possible outcomes is the smartest thing I’ve read on that subject.
 
Last but not least: what a game. There’s lots to read, but this short essay by Franklin Foer is a delight, arguing that Messi, unlike Ronaldo, could teach us something about aging in this World Cup. Athletes can age well, and they can excel well into their 40s. But sometimes their skill declines and they need to play like it. The Portuguese star wanted to act like he was ten years younger, and he left the tournament in a pout. The Argentinian great realized that he had lost his speed, and so he changed his game to rely on darting passes and quick turns. He now has the most important trophy. And he’s taught us all a little bit about wisdom and decline.
 

I hope you enjoy this newsletter, which, thanks to your support, now has about 410,000 readers. Please continue to forward it to anyone else who might enjoy it. They can sign up here
Share Share
Tweet Tweet
Forward Forward
Want to change how you receive these emails?
You can update your preferences or unsubscribe from this list.