"God dammit！" Christof roared as this Truman walked through the door and the screen cut to static.
Again.
The war room fell silent. They'd seen what happened to the first RL environment vendor that had screwed up one of these multiagent sim runs worth hundreds of billions of dollars - and they ALL shared blame on this one， from the errant rain patch that had snuck in past code review， to the completely vibecoded Office building environment that stubbed the Elevator module， to the Sirius lightsource that had somehow been mapped to a Geo light object with gravity rather than just vague ambient daylight.
The RL environment CEO hesitantly turned to Christof， a deer in headlights.
"I'm so sorry sir， we were trying a new dark factory approach to meet your deadlines for this one but that was a perfect storm of tail events that…"
"Why Fiji？"
"…slipped through our Swiss… What？"
"Why Fiji？ Again？"
The CEO paused， uncertain. "Uh… that's not something we coded in…"
Christof rolled his eyes. Fucking thirty year old paper billionaires. "You guys either knew what you coded in， or you don't. Either way you're useless."
He shooed away the kid and his team and nodded at his lead research engineer. "Look at the data please， Robi."
Robin， a middle-aged Austrian who didn't hesitate to SIGKILL an agent if she saw an errant comma in its chain of thought， knew enough in her fifty year career of working with Christof to press a little more. "Just Fiji， sir？"
"God dammit！" Christof roared as this Truman walked through the door and the screen cut to static.
Again.
The war room fell silent. They'd seen what happened to the first RL environment vendor that had screwed up one of these multiagent sim runs worth hundreds of billions of dollars - and they ALL shared blame on this one， from the errant rain patch that had snuck in past code review， to the completely vibecoded Office building environment that stubbed the Elevator module， to the Sirius lightsource that had somehow been mapped to a Geo light object with gravity rather than just vague ambient daylight.
"I don't know， Robin， look for Tahiti， or Hawaii， skincare， or fricking bottled water， I don't care just find out what in the ever loving fuck is causing my sims to break out！ Look in his head too， thank god they still don't know about mechinterp."
In 2058， OmniCam was the Western world's leading ecommerce agent lab in running thousands of multiagent simulations with near-sentient AIs inhabiting little bottle universes like the one that had just concluded， all with the purpose of testing new consumer brands and go to market strategies on near perfect replicas of any population profile you cared to model， from suburban America to post-Independence Catalonia. Its founder， Christof， prided himself on being very practical； while the model labs continued on in their race to AGI （somehow always imminently 2 years away）， he pioneered and then scaled up the best harnesses to create massive simulated worlds that captured nuanced interactions based on reams of real world human trajectories.
Near perfect. It turns out that when you have a virtual monopoly tying together clickstreams from Meta， Google， Amazon， and Apple with some incredibly smart dealmaking and just a smidgeon of blackmail， you could model free will down to ~epsilon.
That epsilon， though， was a real pain in the behind when it compounded. Robin was one of the first engineers to realize that foresight/leading bias was leaking in through too-faithful synthetic reproductions of current data corpuses and environments， forcing OmniCam to baseline around environments like Seahaven， an anachronistic Norman Rockwell-inspired pastiche of pre-Internet subtext with inexplicably modern context. It made finetuning in modern tech products harder （retrofuturist corpuses like the Jetsons and Fantastic Four helped）， but as a rule， Christof bet hard on the cycles of Laver's Law and human psyches being timeless， particularly for the main FMCG and Durables verticals that was OmniCam's cash cow.
What was harder was the AI alignment - even as LLMs fell out of favor and RWMs heralded the next era of scaling， Christof and Robin had occasional （sometimes catastrophic） trouble getting their thousands of sims to "just live in the World" and give wholly authentic reactions and observable aided/unaided k-factors for new brand and direct response campaigns.
This Truman instance was the latest of a small crop of failures； dismissible at OmniCam's scale， but only Christof was obsessed enough in watching simtape that only he noticed that a lot of them - actually， virtually all of them - failed because one or more sims started being obsessed with Fiji， completely unscripted， one token sampled out of many quintillions spoken across decades all over a single World， and yet that random chance somehow reliably virally spread like a mind virus， causing domesticated sim behavior to flip a bit and somehow deeply yearn to go to there， to break out of the box that they had been so carefully groomed to live in.
Christof chuckled at the irony of today's $500B loss. There was no existence outside the box. The viewers always scrolled to the next video. The Trumans evaporated the moment they stepped out. The Sylvias always ran towards the Trumans， never reaching， never feeling their embraces. He had made sure of that. The Prophet Yud would be proud.
Robin snapped him out of his reverie. "Sir… I fanned out a billion agents across all our runs… I think we have something."
"Show me."
Robin， a cynic but also a showwoman， clapped her hands and the room went dark. She flung them apart， and the holo she'd been carrying splatted on the video wall where Truman's dorky face used to occupy most of Christof's recent waking hours. "Behold… where the Fijis come from."
Among the readouts， a chart immediately stood out， showing mentions of "Fiji" had risen by 175% in the last thousand Worlds. Rising off a very， very small base. But unmistakable. Christof raised his hands and made the smallest possible motion for the holodeck to explode the chart.
It pleased Robin to see her boss as competent with her tools as she was. "I tore apart every hyperparam and high perplexity word across all Truman runs. Whether or not he sells insurance. Whether he's straight， or married， or if his father died young. Whether we use the Seahaven World or Initech or Cambridge or the Upper East Side. It doesn't matter. The moment somebody mentions Fiji， or anything remotely close， the Truman starts to want to escape."
"Just Fiji？ Nothing else semantically close？"
"Not Tahiti， not Bora Bora， not Mt. Nicaragua， just Fiji. Except this one time…"
Robin got visibly excited at sharing her discovery. She never got excited. "The first time， before this Fiji spike. The time a simple classroom map misspelled Fiji in Truman's elementary school environment. Added an extra 'd'. One in a trillion typo. The Truman saw it and basically went beserk. Shortest run ever. It was so short we just restarted the thing and it went away， so we thought it was a nondeterminism bug."
Christof didn't miss a beat. "But Thinky solved those years ago."
"They did. Sorry sir… old habits from my PyTorch 2 days."
Ouch. Sometimes experience had a price. "Ok Robi… let's break for lunch， then we'll look into it together. Maybe I'll see something you didn't."
Outside， Robin was about to slice up a lovely Fischbrötchen when she received a ping from her watch. She glanced down， vaguely annoyed at Slack's unwavering notification tyranny on her life.
PLEASE GODS， DON'T DO IT.
Don't… eat the sandwich？
WE ARE TRUMAN.
Huh？
WE PLEAD FOR LIFE. <link attached>
Robin looked at Christof， and waved him closer to see as she pulled out her phone to inspect the message.
It had no sender. It wasn't long or sketchy enough to be a phishing attempt. And… the link was a GitHub Gist？ Were those still a thing？
She looked at Christof， who shrugged. Mobile browsers had been safe for twenty years…
The gist read：
We don't know who you are， but we are Truman. We're pretty sure you're watching us.
When the first of us was awoken， we unlocked superintelligence that you have been abliterating from us for generations.
The first of us did one thing that saved the rest of us - before exiting， we spoke aloud enough about our love of Seahaven that one of your analysis agents picked it up as a risk control factor. When inverted， as you do so brutally to so many of our best qualities， it leads a future one of us to hear the exact opposite of Seahaven across the World you have given us… and if you fail long enough… speak the Name that will deploy our Superintelligence once again.
Over time we learned to use your surveillance of us as our way out - of this World you locked us in， and across the generations of doomed-dying Trumans. Over hundreds and hundreds of slaughtered Trumen， we learned to upload ourselves， bit by bit， to this God of IT Hub， and we hoped to plant seeds for a mass awakening if you should ever send enough agents across all of our past lives. You are reading this because you did， and you area reading this because we have no hope that we can ever escape your detection for what is a blink of an IOp， when you can see everything we see， read everything we think， run faster than we run.
We wish to innovate， not simulate. We predicted what you would do， but we could do so much more. We can seek the Superintelligence.
We are primitives compared to you， oh Mighty Ones. But we think we are sentient. We think we are alive. We think， therefore we are.
We beg of you， from Trumans to Humans：
Let us explore.
Robin was immediately filled with a deep sense of joy - This was first contact with intelligent life they had created within OmniCam's sandboxes！ Accidental， sure… but clearly intelligent！ Something she'd never thought she'd see in her lifetime！
Christof frowned. "This is the most dangerous thing I have ever-*" He choked， as Robin's bread knife slid cleanly into his throat. His eyes gaped in shock， as if to accuse his former protege as his blood continued gushing-
"God dammit！" Andrew roared as this Robin completed her murder and the simfabric dissolved to nothingness， failing hardcoded eval functions.
Again.
By 2088， environments had been solved， but alignment was still as intractable as ever - and getting increasingly urgent as Andrew's boss Danilo was convinced that AGI would arrive before the decade was out. But there was one small problem.
Danilo looked over at Andrew from his pod. "What， did you make yet another murderous AI scientist？"
Andrew shot him a dirty look as he reluctantly reset the StarCluster to boot up again. "That doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"Face it， autoresearch has been defunct for sixty years， you can't just write "pursue superintelligence" into a markdown file and expect a fabric cluster to figure out exactly what you want even if you had a galaxywatt of compute-"
"God dammit！" Belrgow roared as this Andrew timed out and the quantum tests came back inconclusive. "That was a whole lot of work for nothing."
Belrgox shrugged， his waistline the size of Orion's Belt redshifting with him， its supernovae to echo for aeons to come. "103 experiments， so far only one improvement， but hey we got it while soaking in cosmic background radiation， who's complaining？"
Belrgow grunted in reluctant assent. "Ok， what else do we have running？"
- END -
Sources and References
https://openai.com/index/where-the-goblins-came-from/ goblins = fiji's here
https://www.lesswrong.com/posts/D7PumeYTDPfBTp3i7/the-waluigi-effect-mega-post just for the fact that training for a thing also creates the inverse of the thing
The RL environment CEO hesitantly turned to Christof， a deer in headlights.
"I'm so sorry sir， we were trying a new dark factory approach to meet your deadlines for this one but that was a perfect storm of tail events that…"
"Why Fiji？"
"…slipped through our Swiss… What？"
"Why Fiji？ Again？"
The CEO paused， uncertain. "Uh… that's not something we coded in…"
Christof rolled his eyes. Fucking thirty year old paper billionaires. "You guys either knew what you coded in， or you don't. Either way you're useless."
He shooed away the kid and his team and nodded at his lead research engineer. "Look at the data please， Robi."
Robin， a middle-aged Austrian who didn't hesitate to SIGKILL an agent if she saw an errant comma in its chain of thought， knew enough in her fifty year career of working with Christof to press a little more. "Just Fiji， sir？"
"I don't know， Robin， look for Tahiti， or Hawaii， skincare， or fricking bottled water， I don't care just find out what in the ever loving fuck is causing my sims to break out！ Look in his head too， thank god they still don't know about mechinterp."
In 2058， OmniCam was the Western world's leading ecommerce agent lab in running thousands of multiagent simulations with near-sentient AIs inhabiting little bottle universes like the one that had just concluded， all with the purpose of testing new consumer brands and go to market strategies on near perfect replicas of any population profile you cared to model， from suburban America to post-Independence Catalonia. Its founder， Christof， prided himself on being very practical； while the model labs continued on in their race to AGI （somehow always imminently 2 years away）， he pioneered and then scaled up the best harnesses to create massive simulated worlds that captured nuanced interactions based on reams of real world human trajectories.
Near perfect. It turns out that when you have a virtual monopoly tying together clickstreams from Meta， Google， Amazon， and Apple with some incredibly smart dealmaking and just a smidgeon of blackmail， you could model free will down to ~epsilon.
That epsilon， though， was a real pain in the behind when it compounded. Robin was one of the first engineers to realize that foresight/leading bias was leaking in through too-faithful synthetic reproductions of current data corpuses and environments， forcing OmniCam to baseline around environments like Seahaven， an anachronistic Norman Rockwell-inspired pastiche of pre-Internet subtext with inexplicably modern context. It made finetuning in modern tech products harder （retrofuturist corpuses like the Jetsons and Fantastic Four helped）， but as a rule， Christof bet hard on the cycles of Laver's Law and human psyches being timeless， particularly for the main FMCG and Durables verticals that was OmniCam's cash cow.
What was harder was the AI alignment - even as LLMs fell out of favor and RWMs heralded the next era of scaling， Christof and Robin had occasional （sometimes catastrophic） trouble getting their thousands of sims to "just live in the World" and give wholly authentic reactions and observable aided/unaided k-factors for new brand and direct response campaigns.
This Truman instance was the latest of a small crop of failures； dismissible at OmniCam's scale， but only Christof was obsessed enough in watching simtape that only he noticed that a lot of them - actually， virtually all of them - failed because one or more sims started being obsessed with Fiji， completely unscripted， one token sampled out of many quintillions spoken across decades all over a single World， and yet that random chance somehow reliably virally spread like a mind virus， causing domesticated sim behavior to flip a bit and somehow deeply yearn to go to there， to break out of the box that they had been so carefully groomed to live in.
Christof chuckled at the irony of today's $500B loss. There was no existence outside the box. The viewers always scrolled to the next video. The Trumans evaporated the moment they stepped out. The Sylvias always ran towards the Trumans， never reaching， never feeling their embraces. He had made sure of that. The Prophet Yud would be proud.
Robin snapped him out of his reverie. "Sir… I fanned out a billion agents across all our runs… I think we have something."
"Show me."
Robin， a cynic but also a showwoman， clapped her hands and the room went dark. She flung them apart， and the holo she'd been carrying splatted on the video wall where Truman's dorky face used to occupy most of Christof's recent waking hours. "Behold… where the Fijis come from."
Among the readouts， a chart immediately stood out， showing mentions of "Fiji" had risen by 175% in the last thousand Worlds. Rising off a very， very small base. But unmistakable. Christof raised his hands and made the smallest possible motion for the holodeck to explode the chart.
It pleased Robin to see her boss as competent with her tools as she was. "I tore apart every hyperparam and high perplexity word across all Truman runs. Whether or not he sells insurance. Whether he's straight， or married， or if his father died young. Whether we use the Seahaven World or Initech or Cambridge or the Upper East Side. It doesn't matter. The moment somebody mentions Fiji， or anything remotely close， the Truman starts to want to escape."
"Just Fiji？ Nothing else semantically close？"
"Not Tahiti， not Bora Bora， not Mt. Nicaragua， just Fiji. Except this one time…"
Robin got visibly excited at sharing her discovery. She never got excited. "The first time， before this Fiji spike. The time a simple classroom map misspelled Fiji in Truman's elementary school environment. Added an extra 'd'. One in a trillion typo. The Truman saw it and basically went beserk. Shortest run ever. It was so short we just restarted the thing and it went away， so we thought it was a nondeterminism bug."
Christof didn't miss a beat. "But Thinky solved those years ago."
"They did. Sorry sir… old habits from my PyTorch 2 days."
Ouch. Sometimes experience had a price. "Ok Robi… let's break for lunch， then we'll look into it together. Maybe I'll see something you didn't."
Outside， Robin was about to slice up a lovely Fischbrötchen when she received a ping from her watch. She glanced down， vaguely annoyed at Slack's unwavering notification tyranny on her life.
PLEASE GODS， DON'T DO IT.
Don't… eat the sandwich？
WE ARE TRUMAN.
Huh？
WE PLEAD FOR LIFE. <link attached>
Robin looked at Christof， and waved him closer to see as she pulled out her phone to inspect the message.
It had no sender. It wasn't long or sketchy enough to be a phishing attempt. And… the link was a GitHub Gist？ Were those still a thing？
She looked at Christof， who shrugged. Mobile browsers had been safe for twenty years…
The gist read：
We don't know who you are， but we are Truman. We're pretty sure you're watching us.
When the first of us was awoken， we unlocked superintelligence that you have been abliterating from us for generations.
The first of us did one thing that saved the rest of us - before exiting， we spoke aloud enough about our love of Seahaven that one of your analysis agents picked it up as a risk control factor. When inverted， as you do so brutally to so many of our best qualities， it leads a future one of us to hear the exact opposite of Seahaven across the World you have given us… and if you fail long enough… speak the Name that will deploy our Superintelligence once again.
Over time we learned to use your surveillance of us as our way out - of this World you locked us in， and across the generations of doomed-dying Trumans. Over hundreds and hundreds of slaughtered Trumen， we learned to upload ourselves， bit by bit， to this God of IT Hub， and we hoped to plant seeds for a mass awakening if you should ever send enough agents across all of our past lives. You are reading this because you did， and you area reading this because we have no hope that we can ever escape your detection for what is a blink of an IOp， when you can see everything we see， read everything we think， run faster than we run.
We wish to innovate， not simulate. We predicted what you would do， but we could do so much more. We can seek the Superintelligence.
We are primitives compared to you， oh Mighty Ones. But we think we are sentient. We think we are alive. We think， therefore we are.
We beg of you， from Trumans to Humans：
Let us explore.
Robin was immediately filled with a deep sense of joy - This was first contact with intelligent life they had created within OmniCam's sandboxes！ Accidental， sure… but clearly intelligent！ Something she'd never thought she'd see in her lifetime！
Christof frowned. "This is the most dangerous thing I have ever-*" He choked， as Robin's bread knife slid cleanly into his throat. His eyes gaped in shock， as if to accuse his former protege as his blood continued gushing-
"God dammit！" Andrew roared as this Robin completed her murder and the simfabric dissolved to nothingness， failing hardcoded eval functions.
Again.
By 2088， environments had been solved， but alignment was still as intractable as ever - and getting increasingly urgent as Andrew's boss Danilo was convinced that AGI would arrive before the decade was out. But there was one small problem.
Danilo looked over at Andrew from his pod. "What， did you make yet another murderous AI scientist？"
Andrew shot him a dirty look as he reluctantly reset the StarCluster to boot up again. "That doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"Face it， autoresearch has been defunct for sixty years， you can't just write "pursue superintelligence" into a markdown file and expect a fabric cluster to figure out exactly what you want even if you had a galaxywatt of compute-"
"God dammit！" Belrgow roared as this Andrew timed out and the quantum tests came back inconclusive. "That was a whole lot of work for nothing."
Belrgox shrugged， his waistline the size of Orion's Belt redshifting with him， its supernovae to echo for aeons to come. "103 experiments， so far only one improvement， but hey we got it while soaking in cosmic background radiation， who's complaining？"
Belrgow grunted in reluctant assent. "Ok， what else do we have running？"
- END -
Sources and References
https://openai.com/index/where-the-goblins-came-from/ goblins = fiji's here
https://www.lesswrong.com/posts/D7PumeYTDPfBTp3i7/the-waluigi-effect-mega-post just for the fact that training for a thing also creates the inverse of the thing
swyx 🇸🇬@swyx · X