I am a longtime volunteer with PauseAI/PauseAI US. This is the advice I give to every volunteer:
Normal mental health advice still applies. We are limited beings, and we do not have the capacity to emotionally grasp something as immense as the end of the world (thank goodness!). That means normal mental health tools for anxiety and grief are still effective. Listen to mental health professionals and the people who love you.
Action is the antidote to anxiety. If you take action about something you feel anxious about, your anxiety will tend to decrease, because you are happening to it rather than the reverse. And as I often say, Hope goes by the name of Bravery. Don’t just look for hope out there. Don’t passively wait for the cavalry. Be the source of hope, and you will have hope.
If you are in an acute crisis or your action is unsustainable, make becoming well your number one priority. While it’s powerful to take personal responsibility for averting catastrophe, you aren’t of use to anyone if you are self-destructing. You are a valuable part of the humanity we are working to save, and the work will continue to be done while you recover.
Not everyone responds the same way emotionally, but this is a good place to start.
These days, I am anxious when I take action and depressed when I don’t. But I’m not anxious about the end of the world anymore, just about, like, talking to people and preparing presentations and stuff. I’ve done a lot of processing at this point.
That’s how it’s going, but here’s how it started:
Over the course of about a year starting in March 2023, I became increasingly anxious about AI extinction risk. During that time, I donated to AI risk organizations, helped out on AI Safety field-building projects, and became an active digital volunteer in the PauseAI movement. But I didn’t fully leave my comfort zone, and I knew I was holding back. Finally, one evening, I broke down sobbing in the shower, finally really feeling that the world was going to end, and I wasn’t doing enough to stop it. I decided I would do whatever I concluded was the most useful thing to do, even if I really didn’t want to do it.
So I made the decision to start a local group (PauseAI Phoenix), all alone in my state, and commit to outreach and local organizing. I started with flyering, reasoning that even with my social anxiety, it would be hard to screw up handing someone a piece of paper. Even then, I was deeply terrified to engage the public on this issue, expecting to be mocked and humiliated. Instead, almost everyone was nice, and I actually had fun. After that, it became clear to me that fear would never be able to prevent me from doing something that I know I should do. (Today, that local group is growing and thriving and holding regular events.)
I was also able to speak with my state-level representative, state-level senator, and federal representative about AI risk, and they all became more concerned about the issue. After a single meeting with me, my Arizona representative Stacey Travers drafted an AI safety transparency bill, which she introduced this session. I repeatedly engaged the office of my federal representative Greg Stanton, and 1-on-1 at a recent town hall, he told me “if no one can make AGI safe, then it doesn’t matter who builds it,” and he said he was interested in supporting a global AI treaty. (At a previous town hall, he had said that we have to beat China.) These incremental improvements to the outlook of our situation occurred primarily because of my actions, despite my inadequacies. The problem of political will is surprisingly amenable to sheer effort.
I sound very optimistic here, but from my perspective, I am playing to my outs. I personally believe that it is more likely than not that we will all die soon. But while there is action to be taken to improve our odds, I will continue to take that action. We can turn the odds in our favor, difficult though it may be. No matter the odds, when failure would be total, giving up is always more foolish.
I am a longtime volunteer with PauseAI/PauseAI US. This is the advice I give to every volunteer:
Normal mental health advice still applies. We are limited beings, and we do not have the capacity to emotionally grasp something as immense as the end of the world (thank goodness!). That means normal mental health tools for anxiety and grief are still effective. Listen to mental health professionals and the people who love you.
Action is the antidote to anxiety. If you take action about something you feel anxious about, your anxiety will tend to decrease, because you are happening to it rather than the reverse. And as I often say, Hope goes by the name of Bravery. Don’t just look for hope out there. Don’t passively wait for the cavalry. Be the source of hope, and you will have hope.
If you are in an acute crisis or your action is unsustainable, make becoming well your number one priority. While it’s powerful to take personal responsibility for averting catastrophe, you aren’t of use to anyone if you are self-destructing. You are a valuable part of the humanity we are working to save, and the work will continue to be done while you recover.
Not everyone responds the same way emotionally, but this is a good place to start.
My personal experience:
These days, I am anxious when I take action and depressed when I don’t. But I’m not anxious about the end of the world anymore, just about, like, talking to people and preparing presentations and stuff. I’ve done a lot of processing at this point.
That’s how it’s going, but here’s how it started:
Over the course of about a year starting in March 2023, I became increasingly anxious about AI extinction risk. During that time, I donated to AI risk organizations, helped out on AI Safety field-building projects, and became an active digital volunteer in the PauseAI movement. But I didn’t fully leave my comfort zone, and I knew I was holding back. Finally, one evening, I broke down sobbing in the shower, finally really feeling that the world was going to end, and I wasn’t doing enough to stop it. I decided I would do whatever I concluded was the most useful thing to do, even if I really didn’t want to do it.
So I made the decision to start a local group (PauseAI Phoenix), all alone in my state, and commit to outreach and local organizing. I started with flyering, reasoning that even with my social anxiety, it would be hard to screw up handing someone a piece of paper. Even then, I was deeply terrified to engage the public on this issue, expecting to be mocked and humiliated. Instead, almost everyone was nice, and I actually had fun. After that, it became clear to me that fear would never be able to prevent me from doing something that I know I should do. (Today, that local group is growing and thriving and holding regular events.)
I was also able to speak with my state-level representative, state-level senator, and federal representative about AI risk, and they all became more concerned about the issue. After a single meeting with me, my Arizona representative Stacey Travers drafted an AI safety transparency bill, which she introduced this session. I repeatedly engaged the office of my federal representative Greg Stanton, and 1-on-1 at a recent town hall, he told me “if no one can make AGI safe, then it doesn’t matter who builds it,” and he said he was interested in supporting a global AI treaty. (At a previous town hall, he had said that we have to beat China.) These incremental improvements to the outlook of our situation occurred primarily because of my actions, despite my inadequacies. The problem of political will is surprisingly amenable to sheer effort.
I sound very optimistic here, but from my perspective, I am playing to my outs. I personally believe that it is more likely than not that we will all die soon. But while there is action to be taken to improve our odds, I will continue to take that action. We can turn the odds in our favor, difficult though it may be. No matter the odds, when failure would be total, giving up is always more foolish.