Latest news with #Istvan
Forbes
29-04-2025
- Politics
- Forbes
Zoltan Istvan Enters California Governor Race With Bold AI Agenda
Zoltan Istvan interviewed by the media about his political ambitions In a political landscape increasingly dominated by traditional economic and social issues, transhumanist entrepreneur and futurist, Zoltan Istvan has today launched a disruptive campaign to announce his Democratic run for Governor of California 2026. After years of discussing technologies like AI alongside experts while on the speaker circuit, and promoting its advantages as part of the transhumanist movement, he is now warning voters that an AI-driven 'job apocalypse' is imminent, and that mainstream politicians are dangerously unprepared. 'We're on the Titanic,' Istvan told me. 'We see the iceberg, it's called artificial intelligence, but no one in power is saying a word.' Having previously campaigned for President under the Transhumanist Party banner, Istvan now returns with a sharper platform, bolstered by an Oxford graduate degree, a flourishing vineyard business alongside his real estate interests, and a growing public concern about AI's societal impacts. His central thesis: within a few years, advances in AI and robotics will render up to half the workforce obsolete, leading to societal upheaval, unless immediate and radical action is taken. Istvan's biographer, Ben Murnane, suggests Zoltan is uniquely placed for this moment, 'Unlike many on the political scene, he actually understands and is grounded in issues like AI and how it affects the future of work. He's spent decades out there as a successful futurist and political commentator. I think he has an ability to speak to and meet this moment in history in a way that others don't.' Preparing for the Job Apocalypse Istvan, a long-time advocate of emerging technologies, emphasized he is not anti-AI. Far from it. He envisions a future where robots perform most labor, liberating humans to pursue leisure, creativity, and personal growth. But he believes the transition to this future is being grossly mishandled. 'California should be leading the world into this AI age, but our leaders are asleep at the wheel,' he said. 'By 2030, if no action is taken, we could see half of California's workforce displaced by robots. By 2035, it could be as high as 95%.' Citing conversations with Silicon Valley insiders, Istvan claims that AI smarter than humans could emerge within the year, with mass production of humanoid robots not far behind. 'Every CEO will have to choose: invest $70,000 in a robot that never calls in sick, or pay a human employee year after year…the economic logic is unavoidable.' Universal Basic Income and AI-Fueled Prosperity He says that almost 20% of people are already living in poverty in California, and 15% are going to bed hungry at night, or feeling food deprived, 'if that jumps to 40% we're talking about much more crime, and much more angst.' To counter the coming upheaval, Istvan proposes a universal basic income (UBI) funded by a blend of crypto assets, taxation on robotics, and better utilization of California's vast state-owned land. He positions UBI not as a handout but as an essential restructuring of society in the face of automation. 'We have the resources,' he insisted. 'We have crypto. We have federal lands worth trillions. If we don't act now poverty, crime, and unrest will skyrocket.' Unlike many political opponents, Istvan is not waiting for Washington to act first. He believes California, birthplace of AI-driven platforms, must set the standard for how states and nations adapt to AI. College, Crime and Homelessness Another major pillar of Istvan's platform is a sweeping reform of education. We will soon be in a world where AI can write a better PhD than humans can, 'I have two daughters, an 11-year-old and a 14-year-old. Will my eldest even go to college? Is it necessary she goes to college?' he wonders. Rather than investing billions into outdated physical infrastructure, Istvan advocates for redirecting funds into digital learning, life skills training, and individual capital accounts to help young people invest in housing and their well-being, to prepare them for a drastically altered economy. 'We need to teach real-world resilience — entrepreneurship, well-being, adaptability,' he said. 'The idea that the American Dream requires a college degree and a 9-to-5 job is about to become obsolete.' Even his solutions to hot-button societal issues like crime and homelessness, require AI-adjacent responses. He advocates deploying advanced surveillance technologies, including drones and facial recognition, balanced, he says, against privacy rights. His platform is unapologetically tough on crime, arguing that restoring public trust in society requires both safety and accountability. He also supports expanding the role of cryptocurrency in the economy, seeing it not just as a financial tool but as a governance innovation. 'Crypto could be the money tree that funds basic income, without taxing hardworking citizens more,' he claims. Running Against Silence Perhaps most controversially, Istvan takes aim not only at Democratic Governor Gavin Newsom but at the entire political establishment. 'Neither Gavin Newsom nor Donald Trump is talking honestly about AI, and they won't, because it's politically toxic.' But, he argues, it is necessary because unlike climate change, which can still seem distant to some voters, the AI revolution is weeks or months, not decades away from transforming everyday life. And yet, he feels that mainstream public discourse remains alarmingly silent. 'We're treating AI and politics as two separate conversations. They are now the same conversation,' he insists. Rachel Edler, long-time campaign supporter, graphic designer and collaborator of Zoltan's, told me, 'Zoltan's pro-technology vision advocates using AI, biotechnology and robotics to overcome human limitations. And I support policy based on reason, data and progress rather than emotional or reactionary politics. The benefits of AI should be shared widely and fairly'. AI And A New American Dream Ultimately, Istvan is betting that voters, weary of vague promises, bureaucratic overreach and ideological gridlock, are ready for realism. When asked if we should assume that in the age of AI, the American Dream is dead, he said: 'The American Dream isn't dead, it's changing. It's no longer about working yourself to the bone. It's about living a life of leisure, creativity, and health but with AI and robots doing the heavy lifting.' For a state long viewed as the frontier of innovation, Istvan believes California must now lead again, not just in building frontier technologies like AI, but in managing their profound consequences. 'We either prepare for the future,' he concluded, 'or we get crushed by it.'
New York Times
02-04-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
The Alienated, Irresistible Man in a Novel Stripped to the Bones
In his indispensable book of political reportage, 'Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72,' Hunter S. Thompson wrote that the only objective journalism he'd seen was on 'a closed-circuit TV setup that watched shoplifters in the General Store at Woody Creek, Colo.' Thompson's comment came back to me while reading 'Flesh,' the new novel from the uncommonly gifted Hungarian-English novelist David Szalay. To read this cool, remote book — among its primary subjects is male alienation — is to feel you are eyeballing the action on a bank of surveillance cameras. There will be no conspiratorial glances at those cameras, no metafictional winks. 'Flesh' is the sound a writer makes when he has lined up and shot his darlings as if they were the Romanovs. In terms of his style, a better title would be 'Bones.' The novel works because Szalay's simplicity is, like Hemingway's, the fatty sort that resonates. This book is the rags-to-riches story of a diffident and lonely young man, Istvan, who grows up with his mother in a housing estate in Hungary. A lot happens to Istvan: As a virginal teen he will commence a clandestine affair with a much older woman; he will be held accountable for her husband's death; he will serve time in juvenile detention and alongside Norwegian soldiers in Iraq. He will learn that he can handle himself in rough situations. He is invited into security work and becomes a chauffeur in London for a family of one-percenters. He insinuates his way into this family without quite meaning to; he's a proletarian penetrating the conquering classes. Before long he's wearing Tom Ford suits, flying on helicopters and private jets, dining at the River Café and schtupping the callow wife. Istvan advances toward the redoubts of privilege, yet he remains coarse, inarticulate and boorish. Dark impulses lurk in him; he seems like a bystander to his own experience; he has the detachment of a survivor. He comes off like one of those guys who hits the 'door close' button six times in every elevator he enters. Yet Szalay lets us feel his inchoate longing for meaning, for experience, for belonging. He is more easily wounded than he lets on. You sense in him the muffled sadness of Eastern Europe. Time moves with an uncanny fluidity in 'Flesh.' Szalay slides the action forward, sometimes years at a time, in a manner that is seamless but unremarked upon in the text. The novel's tone can be reminiscent, if bleakly so, of Frank O'Hara's 'I do this, I do that' poems. Here is Istvan upon getting home from work: Szalay (pronounced SOL-loy), who was born in 1974, is hard to pin down as a writer. His five previous novels share little in common except a certain melancholy and an interest in masculinity under duress. He is best known for 'All That Man Is,' which was a finalist for the Booker Prize in 2016. The one that has most stuck with me is 'Turbulence' (2019), a series of linked stories that tweeze us into the lives of air travelers. Istvan is not described, physically, in 'Flesh,' yet this novel is driven by his irresistibility to women. So many cannot wait to confer their bodies upon him. He appears to be what Lorrie Moore once called a 'dunk': 'half dork, half hunk.' When he's a teenager, he gratefully accepts sexual favors from the older woman while staring down into her gray roots. (Mrs. Robinson alert: She is all of 42.) Later, he sleeps not only with Helen, the married woman he is hired to drive around, but the family's young nanny. The plot gains momentum in its second half when the family's son turns against Istvan, who along with Helen has been siphoning off his enormous inheritance. Here is Helen, reporting on her son's comment about Istvan: 'He said you exemplify a primitive form of masculinity. He said he was surprised that I ever found that attractive.' There is no one to root for, morally, in 'Flesh.' You wonder if perhaps the plot will come down, to borrow the title of an Anthony Powell novel, to a question of upbringing. But extremes meet here: Rich and poor seem equally empty and meretricious. We are living in a world that lacks moral champions, and Szalay's book makes you feel their absence like a physical ache. I admired this book from front to back without ever quite liking it, without ever quite giving in to it. Sometimes those are the ones you itch to read again. Sometimes once is more than enough.
Associated Press
31-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Associated Press
Book Review: Spare writing style propels tragic story in ‘Flesh'
Istvan, the protagonist in David Szalay's new novel 'Flesh,' is a character who reveals little in his conversations with others. His clipped responses to questions are akin to the frustrating conversations adults have with teenagers. That reticence throughout 'Flesh' demonstrates how much Istvan remains frozen in time as a shy Hungarian teenager forced to grow up. Szalay's novel follows Istvan's life in various moments, beginning when he's a 15-year-old who lives alone with his mother. Istvan is coerced into a sexual relationship with a married woman who lives across the hall. When that relationship ends in tragedy and violence, it upends Istvan's life and overshadows his interactions. Szalay's straightforward, spare prose helps propel the novel as the effects of that tragedy reverberate throughout his life. Istvan comes across in much of the novel as someone still stuck somewhat as a teenager, unable to completely interact with others on an adult level. It appears as though physical relationships are the only time he can truly connect with other adults. The changes to Istvan are subtle but significant as he grapples with the trauma that left him stuck, especially as he forms a relationship with a woman who forces him to see what true connection means. He also learns what it means to confront loss and loneliness. The power of 'Flesh' is Szalay's ability to let these moments speak for themselves, letting these simple interactions tell a tragic story. ___
Yahoo
10-03-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
György Kun, survivor of Dr Mengele's experiments on twins at Auschwitz
György Kun, who has died aged 93, was one of the last Hungarian survivors of the infamous experiments carried out on twins at Auschwitz by Dr Josef Mengele; in fact György and his brother Istvan were not twins, but Mengele's belief that they were probably saved them from the gas chambers. György Kun was born on January 23 1932 in the Hungarian village of Vállaj to Jewish parents, Márton Kuhn, a farm manager, and his wife Piroska. His brother Istvan, to whom he bore a strong resemblance and to whom he was close, was born 11 months later. Life was good until, starting in 1938, Hungary – under Regent Admiral Miklós Horthy –passed a series of anti-Jewish measures in emulation of Germany's Nuremberg Laws. György was denied entry into grammar school, but his parents managed to enrol him in a local high school instead, though he was often attacked by other children as he made his way home from school. In early 1942, however, Horthy, in an effort to distance himself from Hitler's regime, dismissed the pro-German prime minister, László Bárdossy, and replaced him with the more moderate Miklós Kállay, who resisted Nazi pressure to deport Jews. Rightly fearing that Hungary was trying to contact the Allies, the Germans occupied the country on March 19 1944. Shortly afterwards, the Kuns were evicted from their farm and sent to a nearby ghetto, and from there to a brick factory, before being loaded on to a train to Auschwitz in May 1944. In testimony György Kun gave to his daughter in 1999, he recalled being greeted by Nazi soldiers with dogs and lined up for inspection. 'Mum was holding our hands. Dad was walking next to us. Then he was separated from us.' György, Istvan and their mother were taken to see Mengele. 'He asked my mother one word,' György recalled, ''Zwillinge [twins]?' My mother did not speak German, but instinctively she replied, 'Ja'.' The boys were immediately separated from their mother. They never saw her again. Taken for registration, the boys gave their true dates of birth and the mistake was discovered. One of the adult prisoners tasked with taking their details, however, was Ernő (Zvi) Spiegel who, with his twin Magda, had been the oldest of the twins deported to Auschwitz and who, for whatever reason, had been appointed 'Zwillingevater,' ('twins' father') by Mengele and put in charge of about 80 boy twins. Spiegel knew that if Mengele learnt that György and Istvan were not twins they would be sent to the gas chambers. So even though he knew that if he disobeyed orders he would be killed on the spot, he filled in false dates of birth on their forms to maintain the pretence and give them a chance of survival: 'Then the numbers were tattooed on our arms.' György became A-14321 and Istvan A-14322. It is not known what experiments they endured, but both boys survived Auschwitz and were reunited with their father, who had ended up in Dachau. During the 1956 revolution, Istvan emigrated to the US but György remained in Hungary. In 1960 he married Agnes and settled in Budapest. Due to his experiences in Auschwitz he suffered post traumatic stress disorder and other ailments, but he always remained grateful to Spiegel, who had became a father figure to dozens of Auschwitz twins, trying to keep the children together and teaching them lessons remembered from his own school days. György recalled how he had led his surviving charges back home after the camp was liberated, how he arranged for older boys to get the younger boys home after their ways parted, and how he gave them hope 'that maybe, one day, life would be joyful again'. György Kun is survived by his daughter. György Kun, born January 23 1931, died February 5 2025 Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
