Inigo Montoya once said, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Ask members of the AI Triad if they want to reduce “risk.” They will all nod like bobbleheads. Everyone agrees!
Except… not really. They are completely, fundamentally talking past each other.
- The Safetyist thinks risk means human extinction.
- The Accelerationist thinks risk means the economic cost of falling behind because a regulator made them fill out forms.
- The Skeptic thinks risk means big tech companies quietly writing the rules to entrench their own monopolies.
Same word. Three completely different realities.
Humpty Dumpty said it best: “When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.”
In the civic conversation around AI policy, the bare word “risk” is ground zero for confusion – a total clarity killer. A lack of precise terminology means we don’t even know where we actually agree or disagree. These conversations matter, so we need to fix this.
A Dictionary of Words You May Not Use Bare
In my AI Rosetta Stone project, I built a system to force clarity.
I created a taxonomy of 24 colloquial terms and 45 standardized senses. In my engine, every single one of these terms is flagged DO_NOT_USE_BARE. The system literally blocks an agent from shipping words like “safety,” “risk,” or “oversight” as-is. You are forced to resolve the term to a precise, standardized sense first.
Why? Because bare words are the seeds of false harmony.
| Term | Standardized Sense | Core Definition | Cohort Co-occurrence |
| risk | existential | Probability of catastrophic / extinction outcome | x-risk, existential, irreversible (Safetyist) |
| innovation | Cost of over-regulation or economic stagnation | competitive disadvantage, falling behind (Accelerationist) | |
| systemic_structural | Harm from concentrated power or market capture | monopoly, capture, institutional failure (Skeptic) | |
| safety | existential | Focus on extinction-level mitigation | extinction, catastrophic (Safetyist) |
| empirical | Empirical verification and software robustness | testing, benchmarks, validation (Accelerationist) | |
| alignment | Mathematical/goal specification constraints | alignment, goal specification (Skeptic) | |
| oversight | human_control | Human veto power and kill switches | human-in-the-loop, kill switch (Safetyist) |
| audit | Empirical post-hoc verification and logging | audit, monitoring, evaluation (Accelerationist) | |
| democratic | Institutional and community accountability | participatory, public, standing (Skeptic) | |
| governance | oversight | External institutional constraints and regulation | compliance, monitoring (Safetyist) |
| adaptive | Dynamic, real-time, AI-augmented infrastructure | adaptive, real-time (Accelerationist) | |
| participatory | Community-led and stakeholder-inclusive frameworks | stakeholder, representation (Skeptic) |
Talking Past One Another
Take a standard sentence from a Congressional hearing: “We need stronger oversight of AI.”
Everyone in the room nods. Now resolve the bare word oversight:
- The Safetyist demands human_control – a giant red kill switch and veto power.
- The Accelerationist demands audit – post-hoc log verification after the product ships.
- The Skeptic demands democratic – handing decision authority over to affected communities.
That isn’t consensus. That is talking past one another.
You have three completely different mechanisms – a kill switch, an audit log, and a community veto – all hiding behind a single noun. Lawmakers vote “yes” on the same sentence, leave the room, and spend two years fighting like hell over implementation because nobody agreed on the physics of what they were building.
Worse, bare words don’t just split meaning – they can invert vector directions.
When a Safetyist says “risk is too high,” they hit the brakes.
When an Accelerationist says “risk is too high,” they mean the risk of stagnation, so they hit the gas.
They are using identical grammar to command opposite actions.
Engineering Encounters with Reality
As leaders, it is our job to engineer encounters with reality. No one benefits from being disconnected from reality – especially if they don’t like that reality.
The goal of the AI Rosetta Stone tool is to detect when camps use shared language to mask conflicting realities, and force precision. Grounded in computational linguistics, the framework relies on three strict principles rather than gut feelings:
- A Strict Entry Bar: A term only gets standardized if it meets four hard mathematical and analytical criteria: cross-camp usage, balanced distribution (Shannon Entropy -ge 0.60), high semantic divergence (Distance -ge 0.40), and human validation. For example, “compute” had high distribution but low semantic divergence – everyone roughly meant the same thing – so I didn’t force a split.
- Refusing Fake Certainty: If the system cannot resolve a term with threshold confidence, it explicitly flags the usage as ambiguous. Forcing a clean reading onto a muddy statement is just manufacturing fake confidence.
- The Coinage Log: Standardized senses are explicit engineering constructs, not natural discoveries. Most senses are marked coined_for_taxonomy and stored in an append-only log. I don’t pretend I found these concepts sitting under a rock in nature – I engineered them to give policy debates an auditable history.
Generating Clarity
Splitting these terms does not settle which camp has the right vision. It simply forces us to argue about the actual choices rather than the labels we slap on them. Once we strip away the semantic ambiguity, we can stop fighting over words and start debating the actual issues of AI policy.

“It’s a show about pedantry” – Frankie Boyle, Taskmaster Series 15, Episode 9
Not sure what camp I fall into.
The risk I’m concerned about:
What percentage of the population understands computers?
AI Overview: Approximately 90% of the population uses computers or smartphones daily. However, in-depth computer literacy is much rarer: only about 5% to 6% of adults possess high-level, multi-step problem-solving skills with technology. [1, 2, 3, 4] Because understanding varies, technology proficiency is categorized by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) into four distinct skill levels: [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
High Computer Proficiency (Level 3) Percentage: ~5% of the adult population What it means: Can complete complex problem-solving tasks, such as operating across multiple applications, evaluating data, and performing advanced functions. [1, 2, 3]
Moderate Computer Competency (Level 2) Percentage: ~26% of the adult population What it means: Can solve problems using software like spreadsheets, fill out online forms, and navigate across multiple websites. [1, 2, 3]
Basic & Below Basic (Level 1 and Below) Percentage: ~43% of the adult population What it means: Can perform simple, single-step operations like opening an email or clicking a link, but struggle with more complex navigation or problem-solving. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
Unable to Use a Computer Percentage: ~26% of the adult population What it means: Users in this group lack the skills to evaluate or use a generic computer interface effectively. [1, 2] Note: If “understanding” computers implies being able to write code or develop software, that figure drops drastically to less than 1% of the global population. [1]
Before the Gutenberg Press what was the literacy rate?
AI Overview: Before the Gutenberg press (circa 1440), the European adult literacy rate was remarkably low, estimated at roughly 5% overall. Because books were painstakingly handwritten by scribes, they were incredibly rare and expensive luxury items restricted to the wealthy and the clergy. [1, 2, 3, 4] However, literacy varied drastically depending on location, social class, and environment: Urban vs. Rural: In major European cities, urban literacy reached roughly 30%, whereas rural areas were almost entirely illiterate. Classes: Reading and writing were generally confined to the nobility, merchants, and religious scholars. For instance, London males in the 15th century had a literacy rate of around 40%, but the vast majority of the lower classes and peasants could not read. General Population: In 14th-century England, an estimated 80% of adults could not even spell their own names. [1, 2, 3, 4]
Feels like society is in a state of Regressing.
I don’t understand how an electronic abacus can return results beyond the instructions created (stolen) for it by humans that have created the most inefficient Rube Goldberg machine.
How much COBOL written before I was born still is involved in me withdrawing money out of the ATM? It’s not that it’s legacy, If it isn’t broke, it doesn’t need to be changed. I think this discovery was my stumbling block. All the value I felt I produced in my career turned into vaporware.
What if more people understood that LineShine is just a fancy electronic Jacquard loom that consumes approximately 42.2 megawatts to reproduce a pattern?