Projectile living

The weather has been unfortunate this summer. Because of that, I’ve talked twice recently about how my outside projects were delayed. That weather is now on its summer break, and so, I’m not” We’re supposed to have days of sunny weather this week, so that (should) mean my projects will be back on track.

Tomorrow will the day most New Zealanders return to work after the two-week holiday period/ So, tomorrow is the first day I could recieve a call to schedule the installation of the roof over the patio. I’m not expecting that, but wouldn’t be surprised, either, but I’m not really expecting the installation until mid-January.

The only thing that really matters about the installation is that I have things that I must do before that, namely, I have to clear the stuff off the patio, and even a couple days notice will be enough for that. However, there’s one related project that will take extra time Preparing the new/old spot for the Vegepod raised garden. But I now what I’m going to do.

A little more than three years ago, I moved the Vegepod onto the patio because it was sinking into the grass. Sinking aside, that was a good spot: It’s warm, gets full afternoon sun, and as late as possible in summer, and it’s conveniently close to the patio doors so I can collect fresh herbs or whatever. Yeah, but that sinking, though.

My first plan was to put down pavers, something I’ve never done, but I was keen to have a go. Somewhere along the thinking process, I suddenly remembered what I’d planned to do at one point to create a place to store my rubbish and recycling wheelie bins, and that’s what I settled on doing under the Vegepod.

I’ll use a product called “SurePave” by a company called Strol (see the photo at right—and this is NOT an ad—I bought all my supplies at normal retail prices). The product is manufactured in Thames (not far from where Nigel and I lived 20 years ago), and is made of recycled plastic and is also recylable. It’s used to create a stable suirface to walk on or, in the case of the “heavy duty” version I picked, park on. The voids in the “honeycomb” can be filled with gravel or dirt with grass growing in the voids (there are several ways of doing that, and it’s sometimes called “grass paving” because when it blends in with lawns, but it’s also dytong enough to park on.

I was originally going to fill the voids with gravel, but just today I decided to use grass instead. That’s because I’m going to use gravel at the ends of the patio, and I felt that the grass paving under the Vegepod would be more subtle. The downside is that I'll have to pull the Vegepod off to mow underneath it, just as I did when it lived there before.

The reason I decided on the SurePave system was because it’s permeable—water can soak into the ground. If I’d gone with pavers, as I originally planned, it would’ve been impermeable and water would have to run onto the lawn to soak in—somewhere. With more rain and storms due to climate change, it made sense to me that I should make it easy for rain water to soak into the ground like normal.

Work on the new parking spot for the Vegepod starts tomorrow, but I doubt it’ll be ready until after the patio roof is installed, because the grass will need time to grow before I park it there. As long as I move the Vegepod around until the new spot is ready, it should be fine, with no sinking into the ground. If all else fails, I can park it on the patio if (when?) we get another extended rainy period.

And that’s the first project to get ready for the patio renovation project. I’ll have photos to share, of course, but right now I’m just glad the weather is finally cooperating.

As for example

Yesterday was a day that underscored things I’ve talked about in recent posts. That’s not unusual, of course, but it’s not often that I see examples so close to each other, and certainly not on the same day.

The photo up top is of my weedy back lawn yesterday afternoon. It had become about as overgrown as around a month ago (“almost” because it was three weeks between mows, not four), and this happened because of the reason I talked about last Tuesday: Rain—lost and lots of rain. The only days it didn’t rain were days I wasn’t able to do the mowing. As it happens, I was planning on visiting my mother-in-law yesterday, but when the sunny weather wasn’t going away, so I decided to do the mowing first.

When I got to my mother-in-law’s place, were laughing about not being able to remember what day it was, something I mentioned in a more serious context yesterday. After I left from my visit, I headed to one the home centres, Mitre 10 Mega, to pick up some suplies the other one (Bunnings Warehouse) doesn’t carry. I didn’t know what traffic would be like, much as I talked about on m post about Boxing Day. But wait, there’s more!

When I went to Bunnings on December 27, it was technically an ordinary Saturday, so I knew the hours would be the same. But yesterday, January 2, was a public holiday, and I realised I had no idea what the opening hours were for Mitre 10 or the supermarket I was going to afterward. I looked them up online before I left my mother-in-law’s place—and had some trouble finding the answer. Mitre 10 seemed to be their normal 7pm, but the supermarket closing was 7pm, a couple hours earlier than normal.

I got to Mire 10 around 5 to 6, picked up the first thing on my list, and then a minute later an announcement came over the P.A. that they were closing in four minutes. Fortunately, I’d looked up the aisle and bay that other items were in, and just skipped over what I hadn’t written down, and headed to the checkout, feeling a kind of disappointed frustration (though, to be clear, I still like the store: It’s NZ-owned and closer to my house than Bunnings is, but Bunnings has greater depth in some specifically hardware things, which I won’t go into right now. You’re welcome).

When I got to the supermarket, they had a sign with all their holiday hours for past two weeks, and it was, in fact, 8pm, so I could take me time shopping. I was back home before 6pm.

And speaking of rain, it was still sunny when I got home last night, but the clouds moved in and around 8:30 I heard some of the expected thunder, accompanied with heavy rain. Around midnight, the rain became extrelemy heavy and there was louder thunder. All of which was over in around an hour or so. Today started out sunny again, then yet more rain, and then thunder, returned early afternoon.

Rain has clearly been the number one topic over the past month or so in particular. I thought it was interesting how just one day had so much of what I talked about over the past week or so. But the holidays are over for now (the next one, Auckland Anniversary Day, is Monday, January 27), so it’ll mostly be mostly ordinary days. And mostly rainy, too, apparently. Oh, well.

Forgetting the weekday because of a good focus

This is the time of year when I can’t remember what day of the week it is. That’ll happen when there are two weeks in a row that each have two public holidays. This speaks volumes about how different life in New Zealand is from life in the land of my birth, but many countries have it far better than folks in the USA have it. It doesn’t have to be that way for the US, and some want to take it away from New Zealanders—though, yeah, nah, that’s not going to happen.

Christmas Day and Boxing Day (December 25 and 26) are both public holidays, and the following week January 1 and 2 are also both public holidays. There’s also a “trading ban” on Christmas Day, which, despite werdly complicated rules and exceptions, generally means most businesses must close on that day. The other three are ordinary public holidays, but in New Zealand that actually means something.

Public holidays are sometimes called “statutory holidays” (or “stat day” for short) because they’re specifically named in law and have specific regulations. For example, most full-time workers who are required to work on a public holiday will receive 1.5 times their normal hourly pay, and they’ll be entitled to another day off in lieu (as it’s called) at a time the worker and employer agree to. In reality, it’s a bit more complicated than that, with some variations because of a worker’s specific circumstances, however, that’s the gist of it.

Another important thing for workers about the public holidays for Christmas Day and Boxing Day and January 1 and 2 is that if one or both days fall on a weekend, the public holidays are observed on the following Monday, or Monday and Tuesday if both fall on a weekend. For example, in 2026 Christmas Day falls on a Friday, and Boxing Day on Saturday, so the Boxing Day public holiday for workers will be on Monday, December 28.

This same thing repeats the following week for 2027 New Year’s Day and the day after. So, most Kiwis get two four-day weekends in a row—not every year, but many years—which is supremely awesome, and it allows many folks to have a two week break from work while only using maybe six annual leave days (“vacation days” in Americanese) instead of ten. Full-time workers in New Zealand are generally entitled to 20 annual leave days per year, plus 12 paid days off for public holidays.

I mention all that, even though I have several times before, because it make a very important point: Workers’ rights to things like paid time off don’t have to rely on the graciousness or mercy of employers, and that governments can, and most do, enforce workers’ rights. American workers aren’t treated poorly compared to workers in most OECD countries because “it’s just the way it is” or because “government can’t change things”, but, rather, it’s because of weak or compromised politicians who refuse to do the right thing for working people, and instead do only the absolute bare minimum that won’t upset big corporations and oligarchs too much. They do only enough to prevent working people from using the power in their numbers to force change by electing politicians who are on the side of working people, and not consumed by doing the bidding of corporations and oligarchs.

Most politicians in US state and federal governments rely on campaign donations from corporations and oligarchs, directly or indirectly, and so, they vote to advance the interests of their financial benefactors and not the needs of ordinary working people. It’s said that “the love of money is the root of all evil”, but campaign contributions from corporations and the rich are particularly rich fertiliser for those roots, and the rotten fruit that grows is merely the logical result.

Money weakens democracy in nearly every country, and the love of money is certainly at the core of many Rightwing parties throughout the OECD, and that includes New Zealand. When conservatives are in power, we see attempts to restrict workers’ rights and to enrich corporations. But the centrist parties don’t push hard enough to do what ordinary working people want and need.

Most politicians spend most of their time telling ordinary citizens what they “can’t” have. What those things are will vary from place to place, but the tendency is pretty much universal. Politicians on both the Right and the Left do this, but there are difference: To the Right, nothing the people want is possible, but what corporations and oligarchs want always is. Centrist politicians do some things to help some ordinary people, but their difference from the Right is mainly one of degree, and perhaps a bit more humanity. Maybe this will soon change.

The mission of politicians—the people’s representatives—is to do one thing: Deliver what the people want. If something is difficult to achieve, then it’s their job to work how to deliver what the people want, and if there really are genuine trade-offs, then they must be open and honest with the people so they can weigh in on what should be priorities and what really can be deferred. In other words, politicians must do the work their bosses—voters—elected them to do. If they can’t or won’t to what voters want, they need to get out of the way.

I’ve seen signs that things are beginning to change in some countries, and that people are beginning to demand that their elected representatives do what the people want. This is the possible antidote to many governments sole focus on the needs of corporations and oligarchs. Ordinary people far outnumber the oligarchs, and only destruction of democracy can slow this gradual march toward more just societies—which means, it’s still possible for the oligarchs to kill off the infant people’s movement.

In the meantime, people like me who live in countries that respect workers will continue to sometimes get confused this time of year about what day of the week it is because of the time off that workers get at this time of year. But countries like the USA can still catch up. It’s time they did.

Another New Year has begun

Welcome to 2026! I had a good end to 2025 and start to 2026. But that sort of annual transition is so ordinary that it barely seems worthy of mention—which is rather unfortunate for a blogger. Still, there;s always something to mention,

I went out for pizza with my brother-in-law and his partner, and even had a glass of whine, since I wasn’t driving. I was home by early evening, and carried on with my typical New Year’s Eve.

I’ve mentioned several times that I’ve almost always been the only one in my household to stay up to midnight on New Year’s Eve, and that it’s something I’ve done for many, many decades. Nigel almost never stayed up to midnight, but when it arrived he’d call out to me to come so we could share our first kiss of the New Year, mainly because he knew it was important to me.

I found that memory painful for the first few years after Nigel died, and while I still think of it every year, it’s not the source of pain that it once was. Memories like that can evolve alongside us, eventually becoming warm and fuzzy again.

I saw in the New Year, but I was watching the countdown and Auckland fireworks on TVNZ+, their streaming service, becauce the bad weather was causing disruption in the UHF signal. That was fine, but I knew the stream is delayed by around ten seconds, so I was using my iPad to watch the actual time so that I knew when 2026 actually arrived, said “Happy New Year!” to no one in particular, though Leo looked over at me, so I wished him a happy new year—not that he seemed to get what that meant. A few seconds later, I saw the countdown and fireworks on my TV as I took the selfie up top, my first photo of the year. Delayed or not, I was just glad that TVNZ did that that again this year, because there have been years when they did nothing at all.

After the fireworks (a five minute broadcast), I went back to watching TV, fell asleep in my chair for awhile, and headed off to bed. And that was my start to 2026.

2025 was, as I expected, my worst-ever full year of blogging. Part of that is because there were a lot of posts I never got around to last year. I still want to get to those, and, of course, I have all my projects that will be ending this year, so there will be a lot to talk about this year. I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, as I’ve explained several times, but I do have have annual goals, and this year that includes doing more blog posts. To be clear, I doubt there’ll be a return to my old one-post-a-day average, but I have a goal of an average of one every other day—roughly 15.21 posts per month. I think that’s a reasonable goal—I’ve done more than that every full year except for 2022, 2024, and, of course, 2025. We’ll see.

New Year provides an opportunity for a reset. Whether that happens or not will be the overall story of 2026. I’m really interested to see what happens.

My last photo for 2025

The photo up top is my final photo of 2025, like what I’ve done before, like last year, for example. I guess it’s a tradition, like staying up to see in the New Year. I’ve done that for as long as I can remember, and I expect to do until I can’t anymore, for whatever reason that may be.

My caption on Instagram/Facebook said:

Leo and I are eagerly waiting for 2025 to end in less than 90 minutes, and he thought we should take another dual photo as the last one for the year. But he got momentarily distracted right before the shutter, so he didn’t get a chance to smile. Next year? 😁🐶

Meanwhile, that’s enough of this year. On to 2026!

My mother would be 109

Today (US time) is my mother’s 109th birthday. I always remember it, and this year is no different. Several years ago, I began publishing my post for her birthday when it was her birthday in the timezone she was born in. Ah, timezones again! I’ve mentioned that I often miss the birthdays of US-based Facebook friends because I get the alert in MY timezone, which is really weird. However, when I have the choice, as I do with these posts, I want to acknowledge birthdays on the person’s actual day. This was especially important to me for my mother because she never set foot in New Zealand, and observing her birthday in my current timezone felt off. Perhaps that sounds weird, maybe even utterly bizarre, but it’s where I’m at.

Back in 2018, I talked about why these posts matter to me:

I’ve told so many stories about my mother over the years, and repeated some of them, that finding something new to say is now very difficult. But that’s not really the point of these posts or why I make them. Instead, it’s about the remembering itself.

Part of that is about ensuring I remember her birthday even now, because when she was alive it could get lost in the midst of all the holidays. But the cool reality is that she’s been gone so long now—the better part of four decades—that I can go days, weeks, or even longer (months?) without thinking about her or remembering her except for, maybe, a moment. By making a point of remembering her birthday, I’m assured I’ll think about her not just on the day, but in the weeks leading up to it. I like the comfort of that.

This year marks 45 years that my mother’s been gone, and 46 years for my dad. That’s a very long time. I’m unlikely to make it to 45 years without Nigel—I’d be 105 years old—but I wonder if I do make that far, or even, say, 35 years, will it be similar to my parents? Will I still have long stretches when I don’t think about him, and others where the thoughts and memories are constant? Or will he continue to be a constant presence, so to speak, in my life, as he’s been since he died, and in a way my parents really haven’t been, or will that fade over time? Part of me is fascinated to find out, because I love learning about and observing real life, but some of me that isn’t even remotely detached.

I feel Nigel’s presence in my life every day, much as I used to when he was, say, at work and I was at home, something that’s apparently at least somewhat common among widows/widowers. It’s been comforting, especially when I’ve had the inevitable rough times, but that makes me worried that if it does “go away”, I’ll feel totally alone. If it does happen, I imagine it’ll be a long, slow process of forgetting—not the memories, but feeling his presence. And this is something I now think of every year when my parents’ birthdays come round, when I think about them more intensely than I normally do.

The important thing is that even now, 45 years after she died, and after having spent more than two-thirds of my entire life without her, I still think of her and remember her, especially on her birthday—on either (well, both…) of the two technically “correct” dates). As I said last year, “thinking about my mother two days in a row isn’t exactly a bad thing.” Indeed. And I can’t imagine it’ll ever change.

Happy Birthday, Mom, and thanks. Always.

Previous birthday posts:
My mother would be 108 (2024)
My mother would be 107 (2023)
My mother would be 106 (2022)
My mother would be 105 (2021)
Remembering my mother’s birthday in 2020 (2020)
Remembering my mother’s birthday in a new life (2019)
Still remembering my mother’s birthday (2018)
Remembering my mother’s birthday (2017)
My mom would be 100 (2016)
Mom at 99 (2015)
Remembering my mother (2014)
Mom’s birthday (2013)
Mom’s treasure (2012)
Remembering birthdays (2011)
That time of year (2009)
Memories and words (2008)

Related:
Tears of a clown – A 2009 post that’s still one of my favourites about my mother.

Year-end pop music mashups 2025

Another year ends, and the pop music mashups are out, including these two, the last of the ones I used to regularly watch. This year marks the end of the conversion to a new reality.

I don’t even know most of the artists or the songs in both mashups (Adamusic’s “What 2025 Sounds Like”, the first one I saw, is up top, and DJ Earworm’s “United State of Pop 2025 (Talk to Me)”, released the next day, is below). Sure, I recognise some of the artists, and I probably heard a snippet ot two somewhere, but not the entirety of any of them. I no longer listen to contemporary pop radio, there are no longer and pop music video channels that focus on current pop music, and I rarely listen to Spotify—and when I do stream, it’s not to listen to any pop charts.

In other words, for the first time in my life, I have virtually no exposure to new pop music, and so, I have no idea what’s currently a hit and what isn’t. I’m not exactly happy about that reality, but it IS my reality. Earlier this year, I tried streaming the NZ Top 40 Spotify Playlist, but I just didn’t care enough about it to continue doing it.

I have no idea where this heading: Maybe I’ll find a way to keep hearing new pop music, or maybe that’s it, and I’ll forever be looked into “oldies” music. Honetly, though, I’m not sure I care, especially if these two mashups are reflective of the pop music of 2025.

Ask Arthur 2025, Part 2: Rogues gallery

This is the final post answering questions in this year’s “Ask Arthur” series. A (very) short series, I know, but it is what it is.

This years' fiinal question is again from Roger Green, who wrote:

I'd like you to analyze the Worst of the Worst: your least favorite members of the regime and why. Don't feel limited to the executive branch; if you want to dis Mike Johnson or John Roberts, please feel free.

It would be much easier to list who among the regime’s inhabitants I like, or, at least, can tolerate, because that list would be empty. This is a first for me: Even when I’ve strongly disagreed with whoever was in the Oval Office, there nearly always was someone that I could at least tolerate—and that even includes the Convicted Felon’s first occupation of the White House. But that’s absolutely not true this time.

Most of the regime is made up of utterly incompetent, even demonstrably stupid, people, which has probably been the main thing that’s kept the USA from going fully fascist so far. There are, however, several people who are beneath contempt, the sorts who better pray every day that there are no Nuremberg-style trials once the regime is finally gone.

The worst of the worst are, in my sincerely held opinion, anyone and everyone who is any way attached to to the Department of “Homeland” Security, its secretary and the head of the ICE Gestapo, chief among them (I will refrain wherever possible from using the rogues’ names because refusing to utter someone’s name is probably a human’s greatest gesture of contempt). They have all broken numerous federal and state laws, violated the rights of thousands of people, and committed the sorts of crimes against humanity that in the Beofre Times would get a country on a US government watchlist.

The individual who outranks all of them in this list, though, has to be the guy often called “The Shadow President”, Herr Miller, who is the architect of the regime’s racist, inhuman, and inhumane war against immigrants, regardless of legal status. The Convicted Felon’s personal Stellvertreter, in the more appropriate German, has made deliberate cruelty the focus of his work, though ensuring maximum profits for the corporations that run the detention facilities is also a strong driving motivation for the regime—though much of that speaks to the regime’s general corruption, not merely its evil intent. His sick racist Christmas tirade is just another symptom of his moral depravity.

Also in the rogues gallery would be the head of the Department of Defence who has (allegedly) violated international law and (allegedly) committed war crimes. Beyond that, his open racism, misogynistic sexism, and homophobic über-bigotry make him incredibly gross—at the very least. But it’s his (alleged) crimes against humanity that could cause him the most problems after the regime ends.

Similarly, the Secretary of State has been shockingly disgusting. Was the guy the Felon used to call “Little” always so sick and twisted, or did joining the regime give him permission to stop pretending he was ever anything other than sick and twisted? Maybe one day a Truth and Reconciliation Commission can find out.

Although generally notable mostly for incompetence, the “Attorney General”, so-called, is in the gallery because she’s been tripping over herself to eagerly do whatever her Felonious Lord and Master demands, no matter how illegal or unconstitutional it is. She better hope someone gives her a pardon.

Finally, among the denizens of the cabinet/politburo is the weird and flaky guy in charge of health. Were he merely a crackpot shouting on the Internet, he could be safely ignored. Instead, his actions will result in the deaths of tens of thousands of people before everything he’s done can be reversed when sanity finally returns.

The next group in the rogues gallery are sort of second-string players, though still central to the regime’s fascistic dreams. First, there’s the Shady VP who lately has been desperately trying to convince the Republicans that he alone can be the successor to their God-King. What places him in this gallery, apart from his aggressively boorish behaviour, is that he’s now trying to convince the cult that white supremacism has a place in their cult, the very thing that’s causing deep divisions precisely because so many cultists are saying, “Nah, bro, that’s too racist even for me”.

Special mention, too, goes to the two Roger specifically mentioned, starting with Maga Mike, the worst House Speaker in my lifetime, and that includes his fellow Republican who was convicted of historic sexual abuse of young people. For a man who’s so arrogantly smug all the time, he never seems to know anything whenever he’s asked about the latest crimes or excesses committed by the regime—though perhaps he gets that from his God-King, because he, too, always lies that he doesn’t “know anything about that”. Worse, for someone who constantly parades his supposed religious beliefs, often seemingly performatively, he has done more to not just reject the message of the Jesus he claims to follow, he actually chooses to do the exact opposite. There are rumours that his slavish devotion to the God-King is because the regime has something on him, but it the real explanation is probably just he’s this awful because it’s his nature.

John Roberts gets here, too, but only as an associate member of the rogues gallery, and that, in turn, is only because three of his fellow Republicans are far, FAR worse. Mostly, he’ll go down in history as being singularly responsible for destroying all public respect for the Court, something he seems to actually care about. If he really does, maybe he’ll do better, and reject the authoritarianism of the regime, even if that means he’s in the minority in a ruling.

The one who tops them all is, of course, the Rogue in Chief: Conman, grifter, utterly devoid of any compassion, morality, or ethics, he’s overseeing a deliberate campaign to destroy freedom, democracy, and human rights, all so he can get ever more huge piles of money for himself that he’ll never live long enough to spend. If the rot starts at the top, if the most important organised crime figure is the boss, then he has to have a tier in the rogues gallery all to himself.

Thanks to Roger for participating! Hopefully my response doesn’t make him regret doing so—though it does demonstrate why I almost never talk about politics anymore. Still, it was cathartic.

I don’t know whether I’ll do an “Ask Arthur” series next year or not. I suppose it’ll depend on how well 2026 goes. Thankfully, that decision is nearly a year from now.

All posts in this series are tagged “AAA-25”. All previous posts from every “Ask Arthur” series are tagged, appropriately enough, ”Ask Arthur”.

Previously in the 2025 series:

”Doing the annual inquisition AAAgain?” – The first post in this year’s series.

”Ask Arthur 2025, Part 1: Popping bubbles?”

Rain on my parade

Projects, I have a few, but then, too few to mention. But that’s mostly because the most important ones have been stalled for the past couple weeks. I knew that could happen because this is a La Niña year (technically, it’s part of the “El Niño-Southern Oscillation”, or ENSO), and that can mean a lot of rain—and it did, and still is.

I made a mental list of the “must do” things and the “would be nice to get done” things. It turns out, the only true “must do” thing was clearing off the patio for the installation of the cover. I wanted to clear out the weeds around the patio, and also re-paint the exterior of the house facing the patio, but the patio roof won’t interfere with either of those.

However, it would be helpful to be able to prepare the new (technically old…) spot for the VegePod raised planter. I’ll need to move it off the patio so it still gets full sunshine, but if the weather doesn’t allow me to get that done before the roof is installed, I can just move it onto the lawn with the other patio furniture—and hopefully it won’d sink into the lawn too much…

So, all the outside projects I need to do can wait for some stable weather, even if I’d rather get them done. That also means the rain delays aren’t as frustrating as they might’ve been otherwise. Besides, there are four public holidays this time of year, including Christmas, so not all of the delays were wet and windy (not even metaphorically).

One way or another, I’ll get those projects completed—at some point, weather permitting. I have no excuse reason for not working on inside projects, though. Maybe I just needed a rest? All things in their own time.

Ask Arthur 2025, Part 1: Popping bubbles?

This is the first of two posts answering questions in the truncated 2025 “Ask Arthur” series. This year, I forgot to promote the series, and so, there will be only two posts. But… at least there are two posts? Yeah, that’s it.

Most years' first question is usually from my pal Roger Green, and that’s true this year, too. In fact, he asked the final question for the final post, too. Roger’s question is in two parts. First, he asked:

Are we going to have an AI bubble? You may have seen this graphic where Nvidia is in this loop with the companies they are selling chips to; it looks unsustainable to me because things don't always get bigger and bigger.

Short answer: Yes, it’s a bubble, and it will eventually burst. Okay, that’s that, then! Just kidding: It’s obviously more complicated than that.

Nearly everything in the tech world is built with hype as much as actual products or services, and it’s been that way for decades. Also, there’s no such thing as a market that can’t crash, and so, it’s entirely possible it will happen to AI (speaking in general terms).

There are many tech and investment commentators who have their own reasons for warning of a bubble for the AI industry, and they’re quite persuasive, however, I’ve never found the “tech bros” particularly—what’s the right word? Let’s say persuasive, served with a side dish of scepticism in incredulousness sauce. Most of the tech bros are showmen, and it’s in their insterests to, shall we say, oversell what they’re offerening. That’s true in a lot of industries, of course.

While I haven’t seen the specific graphic Roger was referring to, I think his scepticism is exactly right, and for me, it comes down to one thing: Where’s the income? We keep hearing how the market capitalisation of Nvidia is reaching ever higher unprecedented levels, and that it’s because of all the cards they’re selling to AI companies. AI companies may offer paid accounts to users, and other companies are trying to force their customers/users into using AI, companies like Microsoft, Apple, Google (Chrome in particular, but also for search), among others. So: Where’s all the profits? Not one financial commentator has reported how the tech companies are making massive profits from all their expenditures on AI. At the same time, there’s noticeable reistance from consumers who resent having AI forced on them, particularly when there are still no regulations or saftey measures.

At the same time, there are places where AI could change everything, like medical research, for example, because of its ability to evaluate, say, medicines much faster than humans ever could. However, without safeguards or regulations, we’ll see more “AI slop” foisted on us, and deep fakes used to destroy people or promoote propaganda. Ordinary people are increasingly worried about all that—and they couldn’t possibly care less about corporate profits or the salesmanship of the tech bros.

Add it all up, and there are plenty of reasons to think the AI bubble could burst, and also reasons to think is definitely will.

In the second part of Roger’s question, he asks:

AI is an incredible energy suck; is it worth it, or will this end up hurting consumers?

It’s already hurting consumers. Part of the reason that electricity proces are so high in the USA is the skyrockeing demand for electricity from AI data centres—though the situation would be dramatically better if the current US regime hadn’t made the idiotic move to ban new renewable energy projects, particularly because it’s far cheaper and faster to build clean, renewable generation than to build fossil fuel power plants. This represents an existential threat to the AI industry, particularly as consumer anger grows at having to pay high power bills because of AI data centres.

Also, the data centres often have high demands for water at a time in which climate change is making droughts more frequent. If all that wasn’t enough, the centres usually offer little employment in areas where they’re located—not counting the short-term construction jobs, of course.

Maybe the tech bros should use AI to solve some of the problems they’re creating. If they don’t pay attention to the needs of ordinary people and ignore ordinary people’s suspicion of, and resistance to, AI generally, they may end up popping their own bubble.

Thanks to Roger for today’s question! The next installment will be on Wednesday, December 31.

All posts in this series are tagged “AAA-25”. All previous posts from every “Ask Arthur” series are tagged, appropriately enough, ”Ask Arthur”.

Previously in the 2025 series:

”Doing the annual inquisition AAAgain?” – The first post in this year’s series.