How Bad Is Plagiarism, Really? From ancient Rome to the era of A.I., people have prized originality, but the line where influence ends and cribbing begins is notoriously blurry. One pleasing facet of plagiarism is that, in the eyes of the law, it doesn't exist. I could come over later, bring a few beers, and we could, you know, get down to some serious humanizing. Hard to resist, these days, given what's at stake. For students with assignments to complete, who have already vanquished their desolation by asking ChatGPT to compose an essay on their behalf, a humanizer is an A.I. tool that takes what has been produced, puts it through a further digital mill, and makes it sound as if it had emerged from a verifiable person. Among the companies that offer such tools are StealthWriter, HIX AI, and QuillBot. Anyone who has buttered and blitzed a mountain of mashed potatoes into a purée will understand.

Can Michael Pollan crack the problem of consciousness in his new book? It is one of the most perplexing questions in science. You would expect our intimacy with it to give us a leg up in understanding how it works, but this has proven to be more of a hindrance than a help. So how can you study something objectively when it is also the very tool you are using to do the studying? This conundrum forms the backbone of Michael Pollan's latest book, Pollan's previous works include and The former helped bring the environmental and animal welfare impacts of the US food system to light, while the latter introduced the public to the psychedelic research renaissance.

Three books unpack our infatuation with prediction, and what we lose when we outsource this task to machines. To be human is, fundamentally, to be a forecaster. Trying to see the future, whether through the lens of past experience or the logic of cause and effect, has helped us hunt, avoid hunted, plant crops, forge social bonds, and in general survive in a world that does not prioritize our survival. Indeed, as the tools of divination have changed over the centuries, from tea leaves to data sets, our conviction that the future can be known (and therefore controlled) has only grown stronger. Today, we are awash in a sea of predictions so vast and unrelenting that most of us barely even register them. As I write this sentence, algorithms on some remote server are busy trying to guess my next word based on those I have already typed.