Showing posts with label AI. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AI. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 11, 2026

AI Security Threats - Is It Time to Panic?

Introduction

It’s been over nine years since my last post about how to stay secure online. A lot has changed since then, particularly with Artificial Intelligence making everybody more effective at everything. (At least, this is what Corporate America is telling itself, and in the case of fraudsters, it’s actually true.) In this post I’ll briefly highlight some of the most pressing AI-driven threats, and then focus on what you can actually do to protect yourself, vs. what we’ll have to hope “they” can protect us from. Short version: be extra wary of phishing and spear-phishing attacks. (Oh, and no point in panicking … yet … as far as I know. I put “panic” in the title of this post just to grab your attention—and look, it worked!)


Major AI-driven security threats

Here are some of the top Internet security threats presented by AI:

  1. Autonomous attacks: Fraudsters are using agentic AI to unleash fully automatic phishing and other attacks, greatly speeding up their campaigns.
  2. AI systems as attack surface: As companies build AI into email, documents, and workflows, attackers are targeting the AI stack directly rather than going around it. (Some call this “AI supply chain compromise.”) Malicious instructions can be hidden inside the content that an AI reads as it goes about its job, and training data can be poisoned.
  3. Deepfake-driven identity collapse: AI can produce realistic voice, face, video, and document forgeries cheaply and at scale. This can undermine authentication systems across corporate, banking, and consumer platforms.
  4. Data leakage from ordinary use: As corporate employees use AI normally, and get very specific in providing context for their prompts, they often share more info than they mean to, giving bad actors access to sensitive data without even having to steal it.

(Why four threats, instead of a nice round number like three or five? I based my assessment on queries I made to ChatGPT, Gemini, Copilot, and Claude, and these are the four top threats that all these models agreed on.)

On top of these threats, and overlaying them, is Open Source Intelligence (OSINT), which in the context of Internet security refers to personally identifiable information (PII) that over time has become public due to voluntary posting of it, such as on social media (e.g., Facebook users sharing info about themselves, their activities, and their families, assuming it’s only seen by friends and online “friends” and not realizing how easily shareable it is across the entire Internet). All this data has been increasingly well indexed by Google and other Internet tools, and now web scrapers and other generative AI tools can easily harness this sensitive data to create targeted phishing (i.e., spear-phishing) attacks.

An example of an OSINT hack

This will all make more sense, I think, if I provide an example. It occurred to me recently that anyone with a Gmail account could create a Gemini Notebook into which they could feed large batches of albertnet posts, to turn this very blog into a chatbot. They then could query this chatbot for any and all PII that could be used to answer security questions when trying to impersonate me. To identify such vulnerabilities, I did this exact exercise myself (employing a tactic called Defensive OSINT—basically beating hackers to the punch). I fed the most likely categories of albertnet posts (e.g., Parenting, Bits & Bobs) into a Notebook and asked the chatbot to build a comprehensive “public knowledge index” of PII based on the categories most often used for website authentication security questions. Then I had it produce a report describing the vulnerabilities it found.

Did it come up with anything? Well, yes: it found one item of rather sensitive information based on a bit of handwritten text that was included on a picture that was posted. I found that pretty embarrassing, but it was easy enough to remove since this is my blog and I manage the content directly. (Also, because I own the domain used by my blog, I can go to web.archive.org and have the original version of the post removed forever.)  Fortunately, I’ve had an eye on privacy and security for the whole time I’ve been blogging, so other than some pet names and schools I attended, I’m overall in pretty good shape. Here’s a particularly amusing excerpt from the Gemini Notebook security audit report:

Category V: Workplace & Career

The author’s career trajectory is extensively documented, providing a roadmap for Business Email Compromise (BEC) and “Career Gate” attacks.

Security Risk Assessment: Attacker groups scrape metadata from Blogger sidebars (e.g., the “Specialist” title) to craft highly targeted BEC lures. By referencing past roles like “underwear canner” or “radio station receptionist,” an attacker can establishing [sic] a false commonality to bypass corporate security screenings or impersonate a former HR representative for the purpose of credential harvesting. 

As you can see, when you share personal information on the Internet, it’s highly advisable to bullshit a lot. I have a feeling that the above career information, even in the hands of the most devious hacker, isn’t going to get me in a lot of trouble. I do need to warn family members not to use any of the PII in my report (e.g., a pet’s name, a school name) as security answers, though I’ve already cautioned them—as I’ll now caution you—to not use real PII for security questions in any case; after all, you can’t change your mother’s maiden name or the city you were born in, so once somebody hacks a website and gains these answers, you’re pretty much hosed. And good luck remembering what security questions and answers you’ve set up over the years across all the sites that use them for authentication.

So can everyone run this kind of audit? Well, any blogger can, but if you’ve been active on multiple social media platforms over the last ten or fifteen years, it’s gonna be really tough. And remember, in many cases (e.g., Facebook) you do not actually own that information. Probably the best thing you can do is keep an eye out for spear-phishing attacks.

Some updated anti-phishing basics

In my previous post on phishing, I pointed out that you could often spot fraud based on bad spelling or grammar (e.g., “Security fraud alerted corporate card!” or “Account info updating needs!”). This is no longer a reliable rule of thumb, because AI has gotten so good at grammar and even at matching the style of the supposed sender. It’s more likely to produce a realistic subject line as well (as opposed to something generic like “Hello”) and isn’t so prone to excess emoticons, weird fonts, and/or tacked-on numbers (e.g., “✅  𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙢 if you're qualified for a compensation 5078227).” My previous advice still stands: don’t click on any link in an email unless you completely trust the sender, and have hovered your cursor over the link to make sure the domain matches what you’d expect based on what your contact purports to be sending you.

For example, if a cycling buddy sends you an email that says, “You’ve got to check out this Tour de France blow-by-blow report from albertnet,” and the link says “Tour de France Stage 15,” and you hover over the link and see the URL “https://www.albertnet.us/2026/07/biased-blow-by-blow-2026-tour-de-france.html, ” that would be safe. But if you get an email from $CashApp$  (nxaqlvxcvm@ekgkx1ylmv.co.us via arbeitsstellepro.com) with the same message (or any message, actually), you shouldn’t click on any link in it. Or, let’s say you get the same aforementioned Tour de France email from a trusted pal, but hover over the included link and see “https://www.xtremecloudmontzer.xyz/encryptvictimHD” … you obviously shouldn’t click it. Now let’s say you got a legit albertnet link to the Tour de France post, but from a friend who constantly bags on my blog and/or on the Tour de France. Valid-looking URL aside, you might reasonably decide the message fails the sanity test, and you should send a separate email to that friend asking, “Did you really send me a link to an albertnet post?”

Always be especially careful with any email that conveys a sense of urgency and wants you to take immediate action. Fraudsters will employ that to try to get you to bypass your normal habit of being careful and deliberate with your email. It isn’t always the foreboding kind of urgent; it could alternatively be the upbeat kind of urgent, like a party invitation, which gets us excited because hey, fun, party! 

Anatomy of a spear-phishing attack

A friend of mine fell prey to a spear-phishing attack recently because an email she received was from a friend who’d been on a volunteer board of directors with her, who quite reasonably could be hosting a reunion. The email looked like a standard punchbowl.com invite, with the right logo, etc. My friend, due to a momentary lapse of reason, clicked the link without hovering over it. If she had bothered to hover, she’d have seen this (click to enlarge):


Since my friend doesn’t use Outlook, she wouldn’t have been falsely comforted by the “Protected by Outlook” indication and in fact would have found it suspicious—had she hovered over and seen it! Meanwhile, even if the fraudster had lucked out and my friend were on Outlook, she would have been wise to suspect the “roves.sbs” because a) it isn’t the punchbowl.com domain, b) it isn’t anything recognizable, and c) that .sbs top-level domain is automatically suspicious because that’s an extremely cheap domain, perfect for hackers. (They love a cheap domain they can set up to snare as many victims as possible before the fraudulent site is identified and flagged by security community filters like Google Safe Browsing or Norton.) On top of all this, the URL shown above isn’t even itself the real URL—it’s a bogus tooltip set up by the hackers. You need to look in the lower left of your browser screen to see the real URL, which in this case was “accounts.lifeofastartryfghjgd.icu,” which a) also isn’t the punchbowl.com domain, b) also isn’t recognizable, c) looks like somebody started to type something plausible but lost patience, and d) has another disposable, cheap, very phishy landing page domain. Alas, my friend missed all of this, delighted as she was to be invited by a friend to a party, and just clicked the link.

From here, things went even more sideways. First, she was presented with a CAPTCHA she had to solve to prove she was human. This was employed by the attacker for three reasons:

  1. It stymied her security software, hiding the phishing page and thereby preventing the software from blocking it;
  2. It established a sense of trust, because users associate CAPTCHA screens with security (i.e., it made my friend think the site was establishing that a bot wasn’t trying to accept the invitation);
  3. It confirmed to the attackers that a real human—i.e., a dupe—had actively taken the bait, and they probably added my friend to a list of suckers who should be actively phished again in the future.

Then, the page went in for the kill, saying that to accept the invitation and add it to her calendar, my friend should log in to her Google account. It helpfully provided the input fields to do so. Only at this point did my friend smell a rat, and closed the page instead of serving up her Gmail address and password to the hackers. Probably there was no harm done, but man, what a close call! (It’s possible the site could have meanwhile instigated a “drive-by” malware download, but this probably wouldn’t have worked without her browser asking her to explicitly approve a file download or browser extension installation.)

As you can see, phishing has gotten more sophisticated. And the worst part of the phishing email my friend received was that it did come from a known person, and (whether through luck or knowledge of the person’s work experience) created a plausible scenario: this was exactly the kind of invitation my friend would expect to receive from this person. This is one of the ways spear phishing attacks are engineered.

Incidentally, my friend contacted the sender, and sure enough, this person’s PC had been compromised and the attack mounted against everyone in her address book. Why she hadn’t warned anyone is a mystery to me, and I hereby implore you to let all your contacts know if your system ever gets hacked. It’s no different than the responsibility a sexually promiscuous person has to notify his or her paramours about testing positive for a venereal disease. (For a charming comedy series on this theme, you might check out “Lovesick” on Netflix.)

AI and spear-phishing

Getting back to AI, it changes the game by making phishing attacks more realistic than ever, and at a lower cost to hackers. In the past, spear phishing was time- and labor-intensive, and thus reserved for people who are (no offense) bigger targets than you. But now, with AI, producing a bespoke attack with maximum plausibility has gotten easy, fast, and cheap. Gemini describes it thus:

Traditionally, gathering intelligence on a target required significant manual effort. If an attacker wanted to map out a corporate hierarchy, scrape executive social media, identify software stacks, or build custom spear-phishing personas, it took days or weeks of painstaking human research.

AI-driven OSINT compresses that timeline from weeks to seconds:

  • Automated Harvesters: AI tools can scrape public records, forum posts, code repositories, blog archives, and dark web dumps simultaneously.
  • Instant Synthesis: LLMs [large language models] parse millions of lines of unstructured text, connect disconnected data points across 15 different platforms, and output a clean, actionable “target profile” with zero fatigue. 

This means that instead of a person employing just a few methods to get the target to let his or her guard down (e.g., crafting a realistic-looking, well-written email seemingly from a friend who might plausibly have written it), AI can generate a hyper-personalized attack, presenting specific contextual details designed to boost the sense of authenticity, with a high likelihood of dissolving the recipient’s natural defenses of skepticism and caution.

Imagine if my blog were less slippery, and the career info I posted were actually relevant and factual. I could get an email from someone purporting to have served with me in the Artillery Regiment in the late ‘80s, who has announced he’s become very successful in the underwear canning business; understands my frustration with modern corporate America; and would like to talk to me about an executive position at his startup with great pay, a signing bonus, and stock options—and all I have to do is go to this website and upload my CV! The specificity of this email might dupe me, if I actually had served in the same Artillery Regiment, and if canning underwear had been a bigger part of my career. And imagine if the fraudster spoofed the identity of a guy I actually knew (“it’s your old pal Fred, from the Hot Chillys cannery!”) … the email would seem pretty legit. Somebody harvesting LinkedIn PII instead of albertnet might actually get somewhere.

The ABC mnemonic

To protect yourself from spear-phishing attacks, I recommend borrowing a concept from police detective training: the investigative doctrine of “ABC.” Across the UK and Commonwealth, detective trainees are taught to Assume nothing; Believe nothing; Check everything.” Adapting this for Internet security:

  • Don’t assume an email is safe, just because it has proper formatting and logos, good grammar and spelling, etc.
  • Don’t believe an email is really an intentional communication from your friend, even when the source email address checks out, if there’s anything even slightly phishy about it
  • Check for any sign that the email could be fraudulent.

Here are things to watch for in that third “check everything” step:

  • The email has a mismatched “From” vs. “Reply-To” address (e.g., purports to be from Bank of America but the reply-to address has a phishy domain like banksupport@bank.sbs)
  • It includes a link it wants you to click, especially from an unusual top-level domain (basically anything other than .com, .gov, .edu, or .us and especially the johnny-come-lately TLDs like .xyz and .biz or anything you don’t recognize—always remember to hover over a link before clicking it)
  • It includes a link with a shortened URL like bit.ly (which can be used to hide a phishy domain)
  • It has a file attachment, especially something besides a PDF or JPG
  • It conveys a sense of urgency (especially from a bank or other business telling you they’re going to have to block your account, or already have, or will have to close it unless action is taken such as updating your payment details, etc.)
  • Is from a business but has emoticons in the subject line (I mean, really?!)

Is albertnet safe?

Yes, albertnet is perfectly safe. This website doesn’t run any scripts; doesn’t employ cookies or tracking pixels or Google Analytics; won’t try to install anything; and never includes links to unsafe websites. I won’t serve you ads, don’t want your money, and respect your privacy. About the only risk you’ll run is believing I served in an artillery regiment, or that Strava has a new nighttime KOM category, or that the Tour of Sweden was held in 2020 at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic. And at least when I bullshit you I always fess up.

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Tuesday, June 30, 2026

Ask A Book Club Veteran


Dear Book Club Veteran,

I am a relative newcomer to my book club, but the others have been going strong for years.  I’m not about to rock the boat, but what do you do when nobody seems to want to spend much time actually talking about the book? I mean, we touch on it, but most of the time we’re sidetracked on a seemingly limitless range of topics. Any hints on how to tighten this up a bit?

Mandy S, Portland, OR

Dear Mandy,

This is a known phenomenon, and it’s called “book club.” In other words, par for the course. If members really wanted to knuckle down and focus on the book, they’d go to college. The reality is, people need an excuse to get together and this is one of them. As for your desire to keep things on track, just watch for opportunities to drag the book back into the discussion. For example, when someone is talking about her dog, you can say something like, “Did anybody else think it strange that all the dogs in this book are male?”

Dear Book Club Veteran,

I am thinking about starting a book club, and even have five or six members lined up. But I’ve never done this before. Can you suggest a few rules that have served you well in your years at this? I don’t want to be draconian but there are probably pitfalls you’ve learned the hard way…

Rhonda V, San Antonio, TX

Dear Rhonda,

My book club has just two rules, and we generally follow at least one of them. The first rule is: every book we choose must be available in paperback. This obviously makes it cheaper for those buying it, and also increases the chances we can get it from the library, vs. newer releases that have like fifty people ahead of you on the hold list. The second rule is: nobody has to finish the book if they don’t like it, but we’re supposed to hang on for at least 70 pages. (Why 70? I can’t remember.) Once in a while I dislike a book so much I break this rule, as do others, but at least most of us try. (There’s also an unspoken rule that spoilers are totally allowed during our discussion, even if it’s a mystery novel and a member is only 20 pages from the end. I mean, that’s their problem for not finishing, right?) 

Dear Book Club Veteran,

Help! We had a guy join our book club about six months ago who totally dominates the discussion. He wasn’t so bad at first but now that he’s comfortable in the group, he acts like he’s like a professor or something. Nobody knows him well enough to confront him; ironically, the person who invited him has since quit (coincidentally or not). Is there some accepted protocol for kicking a member out?

Sarah V, Denver, CO

Dear Sarah,

I don’t know of any tactful way to ask a member to leave, and the question of who should tell him would be really tough. Plus, if you saw the guy around town afterward it would be super awkward. But I do know a workaround, which my mom’s book club resorted to: though it had been around for over 15 years, its founding members announced that the book club had run its course and would disband. This they did, or pretended to do; once the loudmouth was gone, they quietly reassembled (coordinating via clandestine emails) except for the one unwanted member. You could give that a try!

Dear Book Club Veteran,

How do you hold up a heavy hardback with those limp wrists of yours?

Clint B, Topeka, KS

Dear Clint,

Since you presumably know nothing about my wrists, I’m guessing you’re trying to be funny, insinuating that there’s something gay about a man being in a book club. Maybe you’re some kind of Manosphere cretin. If so, this isn’t the first time my masculinity has been impugned based on my book club. I was once playing poker with a bunch of men (as part of a fundraiser for my kids’ school) and was betting low and folding a lot, so I wouldn’t have to ante up a second time. Finally I got a great hand and bet big, and someone said, “He must have a good hand to bet that high.” Another said, “Maybe he’s just got balls.” A third said, “No, he’s in my wife’s book club, so I know he doesn’t have any balls.” The difference between what that guy said and what you wrote me is that he was actually funny.

I don’t know why book clubs tend to be female, other than the fact that many book clubs only allow women. Here’s an idea: as your first step in rehabilitating yourself, you should start an all-male book club … if you’re man enough to risk it.

Dear Book Club Veteran,

We’re all pretty busy people in my book club, so we only meet for an hour and a half. Of this short time, it seems like we always spend at least half an hour picking the next book. The host selects five, and prints out synopses and reviews and such, and we pass them around and then vote on little slips of paper and it’s just so inefficient. Any suggestions on streamlining this?

Angie W, New York City

Dear Angie,

My book club used to pick our books that way, but then during COVID, perhaps because so much else in our lives was going digital, we switched to everybody submitting a suggestion and then voting on them via SurveyMonkey. This gives everyone time to peruse the options at their leisure, and nobody has to print anything out. The only issue is that it’s a lot of work for whoever gathers the suggestions and produces the survey, not to mention tabulating the results. Chances are you can’t all take turns running the survey because not everyone would have the patience or math chops to get it done. (I award three points if somebody votes for a book as his or her first choice; two points for second choice; one point for third. It’s simple arithmetic but requires  a very methodological approach.)

There are benefits to taking on the work, though, if somebody wants to a) be helpful, b) save money, and c) never have to read a book he or she really doesn’t like. How? Well, as the survey master you can game the system a bit. For one thing, you’ll be the first to know which book won, so if there aren’t many copies at the library you’re first in line. Second, you can vote last, and if there’s a book you really detest, you can figure out what other book has the best chance of beating it, and throw your first-choice vote at that one instead of your own. It’s worked so far: I’ve never had to read the amateurish sci-book about the young, misunderstood video gamer who gains extraordinary power, saves the world, and gets the girl.

Dear Book Club Veteran,

My book club isn’t doing it for me anymore. How do I gracefully resign? I don’t really want to lie; for example, I’m not going to claim I don’t have time because honestly I totally do. But I also don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Any ideas?

Megan A, Ventura, CA

Dear Megan,

I’ve only ever been in one book club (for something like 20 years now!) so I don’t have any experience resigning. One of our members was very candid when leaving, saying something like, “I’ve come to dread these meetings.” I thought that was a bit harsh—so I totally get your point. So here is one idea, that worked great for my wife. She was in a book club that hadn’t announced itself as being feminist-themed, but every single book the members chose were in this category. (She once asked me to buy the book for her, since I’d walk by a bookstore on the way home from work, and I couldn’t remember the author. So I asked the staff if they had Eight Bald Chicks. The bookseller hadn’t heard of it and asked, “Do you have any idea what it’s about?” I replied, “It’s probably some feminist thing.” At his he laughed and said, “Oh, you must mean 8 Ball Chicks!” Which turned out to be correct.)

Eventually my wife wanted out of the club but didn’t want to look unsympathetic to the cause. At the same time, since the club had never said they wanted to focus on feminist literature, she was free to choose any book when it was her turn. She chose Remembrance of Things Past by Proust, and wouldn’t back down when they protested its length. For this she was summarily kicked out of the club on the basis of it “being a poor fit” for her. Fair enough, and at least they made that judgment.

Dear Book Club Veteran,

My book club is mostly great but there’s this one member who’s always sneaking smut into our reading list. She’ll describe something as, say, a historical romance so we’ll go ahead with it, and then fifty pages in there’s this jump scare smutty bit and we’re all like whoa, enough! 

Alicia C, Los Angeles, CA

Dear Alicia,

Evidently you’re not getting anywhere letting this person be the judge of smuttiness; you’ll need to rely on a wider, crowdsourced reading community to help police this. Platforms like BookStagram and BookTok employ an informal rating system based on chili pepper emoticons (🌶️). Decide as a group whether two peppers (i.e., explicit scenes being relatively brief, infrequent, and not very graphic) or three (steamy, highly detailed) should be the cutoff. Leave it to the offending party to delve into all this, as one reader’s three could be another’s five and you don’t want to be guinea pigs.

Dear Book Club Veteran,

My book club’s members take turns hosting. Whenever I host, my husband wants to participate. I wish I could tell him it’s a women-only book club, but it’s not—we do have men. The fact is, I love my husband but get plenty of him every day without him being a part of book club, too. What can I do to, frankly, exclude him without making him feel, well, excluded?

Francine B, Boston, MA

Dear Francine,

That’s a real tough one, but I do have one idea based on my wife’s writing group meetings. They invite spouses to come—not to all of the meetings, but to some—and the spouses form a “splinter group” and watch a movie or go bowling together. With this arrangement your husband wouldn’t feel singled out, and it would keep him from sulking in his room and/or making little trips to the living room on one pretense or other. Talk to your club’s members and see if they like the idea!

Dear Book Club Veteran,

What do you do when your book club is meeting and the talk turns political? This happens occasionally in my club—especially around election time—and though we all basically agree on our politics, I find it really tedious nonetheless. It’s usually one or two troublemakers initially, but then the blathering catches fire and is hard to snuff out. Recommendations?

Mark T, Boulder, CO

Dear Mark,

I’m really sorry to hear that … political talk could ruin a book club (not to mention a friendship or a family, in this day and age). And you’re right, even when people have similar views, it’s still a drag, because it’s usually a stupid little game of one-upmanship. Besides, what point is there sitting around agreeing about something, particularly when it probably has nothing to do with books and reading? 

Once again, my book club hasn’t had this problem to any great degree (and when it has, quick-thinking members led the discussion in a gonzo direction that made sincere political discourse impossible). For your group and others caught in this situation, I recommend something a Berkeley area breakfast club implemented decades ago: a formal prohibition against talking about politics, punishable by a $2 fine (which could go toward refreshments or something). See if enough members support this idea to make it an official rule!

Dear Book Club Veteran,

One of our longtime members had a history of neglecting to read the book, but in the last year or two he has always seemed prepared—but his insights seem pretty simplistic and a little too pat. I strongly suspect he’s resorting to AI summaries just so he can (try to) sound smart. How can I “out” this person?

Kate R, Seattle, WA

Dear Kate,

I admire your fighting spirit … if you’re right about this guy, he needs to go down, hard! I think you can test your theory and expose his fraudulent ways at the same time through a two-step approach. First, respond to one of his insights by delving deeper and bringing something really arcane into the dialogue; for example, “I’m interested in what you said about Pnin being a spiritually complex character, revering life, memory, and beauty rather than any specific deity. But what would you  say about the ‘dazzling Greek-Catholic cross’ he wears when sunbathing?” If this kind of specificity doesn’t cause an incriminating level of visible discomfort, employ the second step: ask about something that categorically is not in the book to see if he fakes having noted it. For example, you could say, “Good point about Clarice’s anxiety. Do you think it was realistic, though, that she ended up fearing her neighbor was  a vampire?” If this member says anything other than, “Honestly, I have no recollection of that,” you can prove (at least to yourself, or publicly if you’re feeling feisty) that he’s an AI-synopsis-reading fraud!

Dear Book Club Veteran,

I don’t know how else to say it, but my book club is pretty nerdy … nobody ever suggests anything lighthearted or fun, it’s always serious stuff like a presidential biography, nonfiction like Guns, Germs, and Steel, or some socially responsible novel about wretched oppressed people. How can I inject something exciting and novel (no pun intended)?

Jill M, Omaha, NE

Dear Jill,

I’m going to reach out to another reader, Alicia in Los Angeles, to see if she’ll put you in touch with the member of her book club who is always sneaking smut into their reading list, disguised as mainstream literature. That person might just become your book club mentor!

A Book Club Veteran is a syndicated journalist whose advice column, “Ask a Book Club Veteran,” appears in over 0 blogs worldwide.

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Thursday, April 30, 2026

Should We Be Using GenAI?

Introduction

As you have likely worked out on your own already, Artificial Intelligence is not going away. It has gone from being a joke to a novelty to the bogeyman to a tool that many of us use all the time. And yet, there are still holdouts, perhaps you among them. In my workplace, it’s a mixed bag. As recently as 2024 I was forbidden to use ChatGPT or other AI platforms at work; now, my employer  is wheedling, exhorting, begging, and all but requiring my colleagues and me to adopt it. On the family front, one of my daughters uses it a fair bit (sometimes frivolously), the other not at all. My wife is wary of it.

So should you use AI? I consider myself fairly well qualified to answer this. I have been dabbling in AI for almost fourteen years; have devoted a fair amount of research to kicking its tires; and now use it extensively both at work and at home. I’ve blogged about it a bunch of times. I’m unbiased, since I don’t work for the AI Industrial Complex, but I also don’t have a knee-jerk fear of technology.

I’ve blogged before (here) about how we can use AI, describing two fundamental ways—operationally vs. creatively—that people do use it. Today’s post is more about whether we should use it, and how often, particularly in light of the resources (electricity and water) that it consumes. Is environmental responsibility a compelling reason to curb our use of GenAI?


Some housekeeping

As I’ve explained here, AI is much bigger than the Large Language Model (LLM) chatbots that we consciously use as the natural successor to Google. We generally speak of AI as a productivity tool, but a whole lot of AI is devoted to the invisible algorithms on social media, YouTube, etc. that grab and hold our attention, threatening to reduce our productivity. I think of this as secondhand AI (like smoke). Meanwhile, you’re surely hearing a lot of hype about “agentic AI,” which can supposedly act on its own volition to achieve a goal. At this point I’m scared of agentic AI and think you should be, too, but that’s another post. The AI I’m considering here is Generative AI (GenAI), which is the type of chatbot (e.g., ChatGPT, Gemini, Copilot, Claude) that you feed a prompt to as a way to research something, or as a way to quickly compose an essay, letter, or picture. This is how I believe most people think of AI, which is why the terms “AI” and “GenAI” are so often used interchangeably.

(Note that if you are reading this post long after April of 2026, and there isn’t a single living human not using GenAI, and/or the robots have taken over and enslaved you, treat this post as a historical artifact. At least you’ll get a sense of how society initially approached this technology.)

GenAI at work

If you work for a corporation that is clearly embracing GenAI, providing you a commercial, “walled garden” version of it, and the training to go with that, adoption is a no-brainer: do as you’re told and embrace GenAI immediately. My employer is already monitoring my use of it (though they haven’t said exactly how), showing my compliance on a dashboard. (My “AI Tools Usage” is showing 87% and green.) I could bristle at this, but a) I have always know my use of company assets is monitored, and b) my employer’s expectation that GenAI will make me more productive is reasonable, as is their expectation that I will be as efficient as possible. 

It’s remarkable how quickly all this has changed. I have seen GenAI’s use go from something my colleagues formerly tried (in vain) to hide, to something that my manager will outright ask me about. When asked, “Did you use AI to help you with this?” I now assume that the correct answer is a version of “yes.” (This answer is necessarily nuanced. Both in terms of being honest and articulating my ongoing value as an employee, I am sure to explain both how it helped and how it fell short of doing the task for me.) This week my boss tasked me with figuring out how to create a NotebookLM chatbot specializing in expertly summarized minutes of every meeting anyone on our team attends (or previously attended), which updates its training data automatically. So if our colleague Joe is on vacation we can ask the chatbot, “Why did Joe Blow switch out the vPlan in Blascorp’s EZ-Pluck profile?” and hope to learn the history. I feel like this assignment would have been unheard of a year ago.

But what if you work for a small business, or have your own? This is a greyer area, of course. A member of my family is a sole proprietor, and so far has shied away from GenAI because she’s concerned about becoming too reliant on the technology. I get her point, and have blogged before (here and here) about how doing our own thinking and writing prevents us from falling into intellectual torpor. But isn’t a tool that legitimately improves efficiency something we ought to rely on? After all, we wouldn’t even think of trying to run a business without email, a laptop, a smartphone, in many cases videoconferencing capability, and (depending on the business) various types of specialized software. All of these tools were new once, and any small business owner still using a typewriter to generate invoices is surely a) in the minority, and b) wasting a lot of time. From that perspective, it’s all but inevitable that any small business owner will ultimately adopt GenAI for his or her business … so why wait?

GenAI at home

Using GenAI outside the workplace is a more complicated matter, since it’s not helping put food on the table. I mentioned earlier in this post that my older daughter has occasionally used it rather frivolously, such as to punk me. Consider this drawing she had ChatGPT create to memorialize an accident I had at a hotel pool back in 2024, when I got out of the hot tub too fast and fainted:


Her prompt for this was, “Can you create an image of a tall skinny white man feeling faint after leaving a hot tub?” As you can see, the man portrayed looks more hunky than skinny, and my daughter tried three more times to get the picture more accurate. Given that these were throwaway efforts (or would have been had I not used them in an early AI analysis here), this was devoting rather a lot of computing resources to a pretty trivial problem, or shall we say exercise. (Of course part of the point for my daughter was exploring the early technology; it’s not like she’s stuck with throwaway art as her primary use case for GenAI.)

On the flip side, her sister won’t use GenAI at all, somewhat on grounds of intellectual authenticity but mainly due to its environmental impact. The constant construction of ever-larger data centers is all over the news, with some shocking statistics thrown around about how much power and water a single GenAI prompt requires. Today I decided it’s time to vet this claim a bit, studying the available data and describing it in a context that could help guide our behavior appropriately.

How much electricity does GenAI use?

With the help of Claude, because it works better than a Google search, I did some light research and found some great analysis (here) on the website of Epoch AI, a nonprofit founded to “help people understand what is happening in AI from a neutral perspective and grounded in the best possible evidence.” Epoch AI partners with Stanford’s AI Index, which I’ve come across in my professional life and seems well respected, as well as the UK’s Department for Science, Innovation, & Technology, which I trust even more (since it doesn’t have ties to the tech industry like Stanford does). I must acknowledge that truly disinterested AI research is hard to come by, because almost every organization doing serious work in this realm has a business relationship with it. So to spread out the risk of misinformation I also put this query to ChatGPT, which came up with similar numbers but from other presumably trustworthy sources, including ScienceDirect  (which Gemini says “is considered one of the most reliable and authoritative sources for factual data in the world”) and Cornell University.

So: Epoch AI, in an article from about a year ago, examined a widespread previous claim that “an individual ChatGPT query requires around 3 watt-hours of electricity, or 10 times as much as a Google search.” Epoch AI, leveraging “more up-to-date facts and clearer assumptions,” arrived a the following conclusion:

We find that typical ChatGPT queries using GPT-4o likely consume roughly 0.3 watt-hours, which is ten times less than the older estimate. This difference comes from more efficient models and hardware compared to early 2023, and an overly pessimistic estimate of token counts in the original estimate. For context, 0.3 watt-hours is less than the amount of electricity that an LED lightbulb or a laptop consumes in a few minutes.
For further perspective: according to this article, “Google says that its median text query uses around 0.24 Wh of electricity. That’s a tiny amount: equivalent to microwaving for one second, or running a fridge for 6 seconds.”

But that’s just text queries. Creating a picture uses a lot more resources. According to this article by the University of Southern California, using GenAI to create a picture uses 2.9 Wh—over ten times as much as a text query. I had Gemini come up with some household use equivalents to give this number some context, and here’s what it came up with:

  • Phone: charges your battery about 19%
  • LED bulb: about 19 minutes of light
  • Dishwasher: about 14 seconds of a cycle
  • Clothes dryer: about 2.6 seconds of a cycle

These seem pretty trivial, but if you consider all the millions of people using GenAI, it can add up, especially if people get it the habit of iterating a dozen or so times to get the image just right. (For what it’s worth, I got the cover art for this post in two tries.)

How much water does GenAI use?

Water is another matter, and very difficult to quantify because the location of a data center has a lot to do with how efficiently it can cool all its servers. This“ Washington Post” article documented a study, involving research from the University of California at Riverside, that found that using ChatGPT to write a 100-word email consumed 519 milliliters of water, which is a little more than a standard bottle. Obviously that is really high, especially considering how many people use GenAI and how much that’s growing.

At the same time, as pointed out by this article, many other industries also use a ton of water, and people don’t seem up in arms about it: “A single burger takes more than 400 gallons of water to produce; a humble cotton T-shirt takes more than 700. The United States’ 16,000 golf courses, meanwhile, each have the potential to use on average between 100,000 to 2 million gallons of water per day. (For comparison, Google says its thirstiest data center in Iowa consumed about 2.7 million gallons per day in 2024; most of the company’s data centers used substantially less.)”

A less abstract comparison

To be fair, it’s not like we all sit around eating burgers all the time; for most of us, that’s a treat. Meanwhile, I would hope most albertnet readers are enlightened enough to hold out for grass-fed beef, which uses a lot less water to produce. And if you’re like me, you buy a lot of clothing secondhand, which helps mitigate the resources required for your wardrobe. So what’s a better comparison that can help us frame the environmental cost of using GenAI? I propose: beer. (I know what you’re thinking: that’s my answer to everything.” Well, okay … guilty as charged.)

So here is my thought exercise: how does using GenAI compare to cracking open a beer? And what is the value of the former vs. the latter? Obviously this is a wide-open scenario so I’ll narrow it down to how I most often use GenAI: when researching a blog post.

Here’s what Claude had to say about the electricity required for a 30-minute research session:

Based on current estimates, a substantive text exchange with an AI like this one — say 20–30 back-and-forth exchanges — is probably in the neighborhood of 5–10 watt-hours of electricity. Google has reported that after major efficiency gains, the median Gemini prompt consumed about 0.24 watt-hours, representing a 33× reduction in energy per prompt compared to a year earlier. At that figure, 30 prompts would use about 7 Wh — roughly equivalent to running a phone for 20 minutes or leaving an LED bulb on for half an hour.

Regarding water use, a Mistral AI lifecycle analysis citied by the Brookings Institution found that a typical 400-token exchange consumes about 45 milliliters of water—about three tablespoons. Multiply by 30 exchanges and you’re somewhere around 1.5 liters of water—very roughly two or three bottles’ worth attributable to the 30-minute research session. (This varies enormously by data center location and cooling method, so we should treat it as an order-of-magnitude estimate.)

To compare the electricity cost of the GenAI session vs. the can of beer, I downloaded a spreadsheet-based waste reduction calculator directly from the EPA’s website. It is designed to help consumers like me understand the value of recycling something vs. tossing it. It calculated that recycling a 12-ounce aluminum can saves 0.3 kWh—which is roughly 40 times more energy than what’s consumed by an entire 30-minute GenAI research session. Granted, I often generate a picture to go with my post, but even if we assume it takes five tries to get it right, the energy cost of those five images is still only about one-twentieth of the energy wasted by tossing a single beer can in the trash. And since this is only the energy cost of recycling, which is less than producing a can from scratch, these numbers are highly conservative. (Meanwhile, I haven’t even factored in the energy required for brewing and transporting the beer itself.)

Meanwhile, the Water Footprint Network, as described here, estimates a total water footprint of 298 liters per liter of beer—so a standard 12-oz can of domestic beer takes over 100 liters of water to produce. More than 90% of that water comes from the agricultural supply chain (e.g., growing the barley) while the brewery uses about 6–8 liters per liter of beer (though a large facility may achieve a 3-to-1 ratio). So my 30-minute research session uses something like 1–2% of the water embodied in the can of beer I might have next to my keyboard. (Full disclosure: there’s a now-empty pint glass on the arm of the sofa as I type this. Yes, drinking while blogging: a rhetorically risky and planet-impacting combination. So sue me.)

Factoring in value

So that covers the environmental cost of researching a blog vs. drinking a beer. But what about the value of each? Discounting pub crawls with my friends—which occur far more seldom than I would like, to the point that they’re a rounding error—I’m really talking about unwinding with a solitary beer at the end of the workday. So in general the value of that beer accrues solely to me.

So does my blog-related GenAI research create any value to justify its water and electricity use? In the interest of humility I won’t merely assume this, and will instead dive into the data. Pageview stats across my blog wouldn’t be very representative, as at least half my posts don’t require any research at all. So for lack of a better idea, I’ve decided to analyze the pageview count for each of the albertnet posts that are about AI. After all, those have to be among the most GenAI-intensive of all, because in writing them I was test driving the various platforms. Here’s a brief summary of how these posts have performed:

  • Total pageviews across nineteen AI posts: 15,578 (so far)
  • Average pageviews per AI post: 819.9
  • Average pageviews per AI post per month: 35.5

I could conclude that, from a somewhat abstract viewpoint, each post is seen by a person a day. But averages aren’t very reliable, and greater specificity is more revealing. Lurking in that “average pageviews per AI post per month” is a bit of (GenAI-performed) number crunching, accounting for the fact that the posts that I published years ago have had a lot more time to accrue pageviews. Ranking my AI posts by pageviews per month shows that they are gaining in popularity, with the more recent ones averaging two to three views per day. Here’s the ranking of all these AI posts over time, so you can see the momentum:

Views/Mo Total Views Title
1102.51,742Tech Check-In – How Good is the Latest A.I.? – Part II
285.7257New Year's Resolutions — AI Edition
382.81,077What Is ChatGPT Great At (and Not)?
469.91,189Tech Check-In – How Good is the Latest A.I.? – Part I
562.4312AI Smackdown – ChatGPT vs. Copilot vs. Gemini
658.0290More AI Smackdown – ChatGPT, Copilot, & Gemini Write Poetry
751.2256Tech Reflection – Two Sides of AI
827.41,040A.I. Smackdown – English Major vs. ChatGPT – Part 2
927.11,031A.I. Smackdown – English Major vs. ChatGPT – Part 1
1023.0597Will A.I. Steal Our Jobs?
1120.0739Schooling ChatGPT
1211.1719Could Artificial Intelligence Replace Writers? – Part 1
1310.6680Could Artificial Intelligence Replace Writers? – Part 3
1410.01,230A.I. Smackdown – Moto vs. Cortana vs. Siri
158.8563Could Artificial Intelligence Replace Writers? – Part 2
167.31,201Almost Intelligent – Part I
176.3838Smartphones & Artificial Stupidity
186.21,016I, Chatbot
194.9801Almost Intelligent – Part II

It would be reasonable to conclude that the more recent posts, which leverage more GenAI research, are reaching more readers, thus providing a better ROI. Of course I can’t account for all the possible reasons these posts are more popular, but I reckon that to some degree it’s because of the better use of GenAI. Using this tool won’t make be a better writer, but I’ve always been pretty lazy about research and there’s no doubt GenAI helps there. And whether or not this ROI calculation is completely airtight, I hope this helps you at least appreciate my effort to weigh my GenAI “footprint” against its value.

The bigger point here is that the can of beer is consumed once, quickly, leaving nothing behind (except maybe a nice belch). In contrast, the energy that goes into researching a blog post has an effective cost-per-view that keeps dropping every month it’s up, in perpetuity. If you use GenAI to draft an email, how many people will it reach, and low long is its tail? Could you have drafted it on your own—thus exercising your brain—or did you really need GenAI?

I’m not trying to imply that only bloggers should use GenAI; this is just one illustration of a cost/benefit analysis of the use of this tool. If you are doing something useful and an AI chatbot is helping you do it better or more efficiently, then it’s arguably worth the energy and water—or, at least, is a more worthy use of it than shopping for a bunch of clothes, going out for a burger, and then having a few beers.

The point is to be aware of the environmental cost of this technology, the same way so many of us do when we decide among driving, biking, walking, or taking mass transit  somewhere. Just because GenAI takes less water than beef or cotton doesn’t mean we should ignore its environmental cost, since it’s a whole new way people are consuming energy and water. As recently as three years ago, almost nobody was using GenAI in their daily lives; now, it’s an increasingly entrenched behavior, data centers are expanding rapidly, and in some regions power grids are struggling to keep up with demand.

This being said, I truly don’t believe opting out of GenAI is the solution; just reflecting on how much it helped me write this post, I can’t imagine not taking advantage of it. Instead, I’d like to see the millions of people already using it stop acting like it comes without a cost. It’s the same as driving: did I really need to surround myself with two tons of steel and burn a cup of gasoline just to travel a mile to the gym and back? (That was a rhetorical question. I always bike to the gym.)

Speaking of cost: one way to keep yourself honest with GenAI is to not pay for it. If you are on an unpaid account and use up your tokens, so that your chatbot cuts you off for some number of hours, maybe that should be your indication that you’ve gone overboard. Come to think of it, video games, YouTube, and social media should have that “feature.”

A final note on GenAI at work

Now that I’ve examined the environmental cost of GenAI, it’s worth pointing out a final wrinkle: using it in the workplace is actually much more efficient than using it at home. Corporations get the most benefit out of GenAI through Retrieval Augmented Generation (RAG), which is where, instead of asking a large language model to answer from its entire trove of training data, the GenAI retrieves relevant documents from a corporate knowledge base (contracts, manuals, research reports, emails, whatever the organization has indexed), then passes those retrieved chunks to the model as context for its answer. Tools like NotebookLM, most enterprise Copilot implementations, and corporate deployments of models like Gemini or Claude typically work this way.

This is much more efficient than “raw” GenAI like consumers use. The retrieval step is computationally cheap—essentially a sophisticated search. The generation step is shorter because the model doesn't have to work as hard to “remember” or construct relevant context; it’s been handed it. And the answers tend to be more accurate and require fewer iterations, which means fewer wasted queries. For a user to opt out of using it on environmental grounds makes little sense, because the big resource expense has already been incurred. As Claude puts it:

The infrastructure cost of a corporate RAG deployment is largely fixed relative to usage. The vector database has to stay current whether 500 employees query it or 5,000. The embedding pipeline runs continuously. The API connections to the underlying model are on retainer. So each additional active user essentially dilutes the per-capita environmental and financial cost of that overhead. An employee who declines to use the tool isn’t reducing the infrastructure footprint; they’re just reducing the output derived from it. In accounting terms, they’re lowering the return on a sunk cost.

Synthesis

Wow, I just threw a ton of words at you, didn’t I? Maybe I’m the most verbose Large Language Model since, well, ChatGPT! Anyway, here’s my final conclusion: of course you should use GenAI. It’s an amazingly powerful tool, and it’s getting better all the time. Now that it’s here, declining to use it makes about as much sense as blending a smoothie with a knife and a whisk, or doing arithmetic with an abacus, or churning your own butter. But use GenAI judiciously. Ask yourself: is this improving the quality or efficiency of my output? Or am I just being lazy?

Other albertnet posts on A.I., in order of publication

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.

Monday, April 6, 2026

Autocomplete Zeitgeist Revisited - 2026 - Part II

Introduction

Last week, in keeping with  my eight-year tradition, I examined Google’s Autocomplete suggestions—i.e., you start a query and have it suggest the rest—to learn about the American Zeitgeist in 2026. Part I focused on crime and punishment (i.e., what Americans fear getting in trouble for) and today I’ll cover everything else.


Who, what, where, when, why, how

Searching on “what is,” here are the top five suggestions Google offered for completing the query:

  • What is my ip
  • What is the 25th amendment
  • What is easter monday
  • What is vibe coding
  • What is easter about

That first one, “what is my ip,” appeared eight years ago but not four years ago. It’s a pointless inquiry, as your IP address doesn’t actually say much about you or your device configuration ; these addresses are assigned dynamically and temporarily. Gamers and users of VPNs have reasons to want to know this, but they’ve surely bookmarked a website that can actually provide this info. So the popularity of this query is probably based on fear and ignorance: people watched some TikTok video about how “they” are going to “scam you through your IP address,” or they got a scam email saying, “we know your IP address is 192.168.128.230,” and these poor souls are just trying to determine if they’re really in danger. Could Americans really be that fearful and ignorant? Decide for yourself. Perhaps the rest of this post will help.

The second Autocomplete suggestion is surely the result of Americans reading about this or that lawmaker saying it’s time to invoke Section 4 of the 25th amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which allows removal of the president if he’s deemed “unable to discharge his duties.”  The trigger for this saber-rattling was a post from the Donald on Truth Media on Easter Sunday, alluding to the military offensive against Iran: “Tuesday will be Power Plant Day, and Bridge Day, all wrapped up in one, in Iran. There will be nothing like it!!! Open the Fuckin’ Strait, you crazy bastards, or you’ll be living in Hell - JUST WATCH! Praise be to Allah.” Yes, he really said this. The president.

So … does this Autocomplete suggestion support the notion that Americans are fearful and ignorant? Well, I wouldn’t blame anybody for being fearful (either that Trump will be removed or that he’s unhinged, depending on your political bent), and I do not considerate it ignorant to not know what the 25th amendment is. I’d never heard of it either until sometime in the past six months when some other Trump outburst led to the same Quixotic call for removing him.

Moving on to the Easter thing, perhaps Americans are thinking more globally in general, because this didn’t come up four or eight years ago. Obviously Easter Monday is simply the day after Easter (today, in fact) and Americans are probably feeling a bit chapped we don’t get it as a holiday like so much of Europe does. Fair enough.

On to vibe coding: needless to say this query didn’t exist four years ago. Vibe coding is the method of programming where you tell AI what you want, essentially, without caring about how the resulting code works (which makes many in the industry nervous). A coder friend of mine likened it to pulling the handle on a slot machine. I think a lot more Americans are aware of vibe coding than would actually engage in it. I doubt it’d be as popular if it weren’t such an inspired, buzz-y term; if we called it “natural language-directed code generation with deferred comprehension” I doubt anybody would care. But since “vibe coding” sounds so cool, it’s making the rounds, and people don’t want to feel out of touch when it comes up. So it’s not fear or ignorance per se; it’s fear of ignorance.

The popularity of “What is Easter about” suggests to me that a growing number of Americans never went to church, or more specifically to a Christian one. It’s tempting to flag this as ignorance, but then who establishes how knowledgeable an American (especially an immigrant) should be about this (or any) religion?

Okay, let’s move on to “why.” The top five Autocomplete suggestions are:

  • Why is the market down today
  • Why berkeley
  • Why california
  • Why is easter called easter
  • Why was jesus crucified

Those last two I’ll just lump under the same category as “What is Easter about,” but the other three didn’t show up in either of my last two investigations so let’s have a look. “Why is the market down today” would seem to be a perennial question, other than right now. I mean, why do you think, ya bozos? Could it be related to the world experiencing the largest oil crisis in history? If Americans can’t equate the price of gas to the stock market, I’m sorry—that’s just ignorant. But getting back to fearful, perhaps in this realm they’re not fearful enough.

The “why Berkeley” and “why California” suggestions are a real mystery to me, since the correct answer to both is “duh!” The Google Gemini AI overview responses are, respectively, “UC Berkeley is consistently ranked as the world’s top public research university, offering an elite, rigorous education, top-tier faculty, and massive research opportunities,” and “California is a global hub for innovation, entertainment, and economic power, boasting the largest state economy in the U.S. (4th largest globally).” (As for why these questions seem to have gotten so much search traction, I really have no idea, though my IP address—yes, we’ve come full circle on that—does tell Google my approximate whereabouts, and in fact I live in Albany which is right next door to Berkeley.)

Now we’ll look at “who.” Four years ago people were googling Julia Fox (whoever that is or was); Will Smith’s wife; Moon Knight;  the Super Bowl teams; and Joe Rogan. Here are the top five today:

  • Who won march madness
  • Who is nancy guthrie
  • Who is this
  • Who is steve hilton
  • Who is this meme

March Madness is obviously some sports tournament that ended less than a week ago so who cares—it probably says nothing about the zeitgeist. Nancy Guthrie is a missing person, the mother of some news personality, who is in the current news because there’s a ransom note now, and a sheriff with an undeclared loaded gun, and surely other bits of lurid intrigue, none of which I care about, because this person is a complete stranger. As she surely is to all these people googling her just because it’s exciting. Seriously, people, go read a crime novel. On to Steve Hilton: he is running for public office and that’s timely, blah blah blah.

Now, “who is this” is a fascinating suggestion. At first I took it to be a sign that somebody forgot he was only using a search engine, and assumed he was in conversation with an AI chatbot, and forgot which one it was. (I myself jump from bot to bot whenever they freeze my session due to lack of paid subscription.) But I went ahead and searched on it, and Google says it’s either the name of a song (it names four candidates) or “a phrase used to ask for the identity of a person, often used over the phone.” On this basis, I’m either going to finally become a rapper and write a song called “What Is My IP,” or I’m going to start asking people, especially over the phone, “Who is this?” Since random telemarketers are bound to volunteer this information anyway, I’ll stick to using it with people I know, whose voice I recognize, and who are in my contacts. Should shake things up a bit.

But “who is this meme” is a real mystery. Perhaps it’s just that “meme” is such a common noun, and the phrase “who is this” is just yearning for a predicate, so Google took a wild guess. Who knows? Who is this knows?

Let’s move on to “where.” The first carryover from previous years is, predictably enough, “where’s my refund”  which suggests I shouldn’t do this report so close to Tax Day. That query came in at #2. The most popular is “where is artemis 2 now,” pertaining to the spacecraft that is heading for the moon (and once again, the popularity of this query says basically nothing about the zeitgeist). Next was “where is the super bowl 2026” which came up last time as well, and I just absolutely cannot fathom the popularity of this query because the Super Bowl happened already, all the way back in February, and if even I know that, despite being totally uninterested, how can so many people not? Next was “where to watch heated rivalry,” another broadcast sporting event; that this suggestion came under “where” is a random artifact of video websites being thought of as places. Ditto “where to watch uconn vs Michigan.” So much for where.

The next query ought to be more interesting: how. What are Americans trying to learn? The only carryover from previous surveys was “how to screenshot on mac,” which at first blush begs the question: haven’t people figured this out by now? But actually this makes sense: it’s because Gen-Z, having been weaned on smartphones, not laptops, is exploring this for the first time, and/or the Mac users have forgotten since they’re mostly phone-addicted as well, and/or entering their demented years. “How to screenshot on windows” was right behind this, in #2. Next was “how to file a tax extension,” making its first appearance though procrastination is obviously as old as time. Fourth place went to “how many ounces in a gallon,” which shows that Americans are apparently no better at math than they were four years ago, but at least they’re thinking bigger, because last time we saw “how many ounces in a cup.” Fifth place went to “how far is the moon from earth,” which again is merely timely, not illuminating.

The future

This brings us to the most exciting part of the post, where we stop living in the past and ask Google about what’s on the horizon. I started with “am I going…” Compared to last time, I see a whole lot of repeated queries:  am I going crazy, am I going to be okay, am I going to hell, am I going blind? There’s kind of a sadness, I think, about people googling these important and existential questions when they have to know Google won’t have the answers, at least not anything they can trust. I wonder if these people are like the speaker in Poe’s “The Raven,” who keeps asking this bird questions—“Is there balm in Gilead?” and (in essence) “will I get over my lost Lenore?”—because he knows the raven won’t answer, other than “Nevermore,” and he wants to torment himself, like some ritual act of self-flagellation. These first perennial Autocomplete queries were so sad, I was almost cheered up by the fifth one, the relatively harmless “am I going to owe taxes in 2025.” (Uh, ask your tax software, dude! Problem solved…)

And now we are on to our final Autocomplete query, “will I ever.” These are very similar to four and eight years ago, with repeat appearances of “will I ever find love,” “will I ever be able to afford a house,” “will I ever be happy,” and “will I ever find love again.” What’s instructive are the suggestions we no longer see: “will I ever get a ps5” and “will I ever get a job.” I guess four years ago it was hard to get a PS5 (don’t worry, Gemini says supply has largely caught up with demand!), but at least people had jobs. I feel bad that people are putting this lugubrious “will I ever get a job?” query to Google, knowing it’s probably as hopeless as asking “am I going to hell?” or “is there balm in Gilead?” All I can advise is a) try touching up your LinkedIn profile, and b) it’s not you … it’s them.

And now, following the tradition I established four and eight years ago, I’ll abandon Google and its Autocomplete and turn to the Magic 8-Ball at www.ask8ball.net. I asked it, “Will I ever be good enough?” It promptly replied, “Without a doubt.” Maybe too promptly … I mean, not even AI seems that fast! So just to make sure that this utterance wasn’t its only stock and store, I asked it, “Is there balm in Gilead?” It answered, “Reply hazy, try again.” I guess I’ll have to google it.

Previous Autocomplete Zeitgeist posts

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Email me here. For a complete index of albertnet posts, click here.