We have the abundance. We have the technology. But we will not.
En un momento en que las democracias parecen ceder terreno ante el peso del dinero y el poder concentrado, la escritora Jeanette Winterson publica un ensayo que convoca a una elección civilizatoria: usar la tecnología y la abundancia para liberar a las personas, o permitir que una nueva clase de sultanes tecnológicos las encadene. Winterson observa que los derechos de las mujeres y las instituciones democráticas son conquistas históricamente recientes y, por tanto, profundamente vulnerables. Su advertencia no es un epitafio, sino una pregunta urgente sobre los valores que elegiremos antes de que la elección nos sea arrebatada.
- Winterson identifica una crisis de liderazgo global: figuras como Trump, Putin y Xi Jinping no son anacronismos del pasado, sino manipuladores modernos que explotan el malestar económico para consolidar poder.
- La democracia, recuerda la autora, apenas tiene décadas de existencia real —las mujeres en Reino Unido no podían abrir una cuenta bancaria hasta 1975— y esa fragilidad la hace peligrosamente fácil de desmantelar.
- La inteligencia artificial representa la bifurcación más decisiva: puede redistribuir la abundancia o convertirse en el instrumento definitivo de una oligarquía tecnológica que acumula riqueza mientras otros trabajan tres empleos para sobrevivir.
- La rabia de Winterson apunta también a la democracia falsa: políticos que mienten para ganar elecciones, manipulan a ciudadanos con desinformación y luego gobiernan en beneficio propio.
- Aun así, la autora se niega al pesimismo: sostiene que las sociedades tienen capacidad de elegir otros valores, pero advierte que la ventana para hacerlo se está cerrando a medida que quienes detentan el poder toman decisiones irreversibles.
Jeanette Winterson acaba de publicar "Aladino y dos lámparas", un ensayo híbrido que toma prestada la arquitectura de Las mil y una noches para examinar el presente político y tecnológico. A través de la figura de una mujer que transforma a un hombre violento no con violencia sino con algo más silencioso y radical, Winterson pregunta qué hemos olvidado de nosotros mismos.
El diagnóstico es severo: vivimos un momento en que quienes tienen poder toman decisiones y el resto improvisa. La democracia es frágil porque apenas ha existido. Las mujeres llevan menos de un siglo en las escuelas; en su propio país, no podían abrir una cuenta bancaria hasta 1975. Ese contexto hace comprensible —aunque no justificable— que la gente, angustiada por la economía y el futuro, se vuelva susceptible a líderes como Trump, Putin o Xi Jinping. Winterson los describe sin ambigüedad: personas manipuladoras que quieren dinero y poder, y que están ganando porque la izquierda no opone suficiente resistencia.
Donde la escritora ve la apuesta más alta es en la inteligencia artificial. Tenemos la abundancia. Tenemos la tecnología. Podríamos construir una sociedad que garantice seguridad, alimento y dignidad para todos. El ferrocarril fue imaginado alguna vez como un invento democrático; la IA podría serlo también. Pero no lo será, advierte, porque quienes deciden no quieren que lo sea. Si una máquina hace todo el trabajo y la riqueza que genera se concentra en unas pocas manos, habremos creado un sistema donde la tecnología que pudo liberar a las personas las esclaviza aún más.
Winterson está furiosa con la democracia de fachada: con los políticos que dicen lo que necesitan para ser elegidos y luego gobiernan para otros intereses, con las mentiras sobre el Brexit, con la manipulación sistemática de ciudadanos que merecían la verdad. Lo que reclama es sencillo y radical a la vez: líderes que digan lo que piensan y dejen decidir a la gente.
Sin embargo, se niega a cerrar con un epitafio. Cree que estamos exactamente en el momento de decidir qué valores y principios queremos. La pregunta que deja suspendida es si lo haremos antes de que quienes están arruinando las cosas hagan esa elección imposible.
Jeanette Winterson sits down with a cup of tea and a question that has been eating at her: What happens to democracy when the people who run things care only about money and power?
She has just published a new essay called "Aladino y dos lámparas"—a hybrid work that borrows from the classical tales of the Arabian Nights to examine the world we are building right now. The book is part literature, part philosophy, part urgent warning. Winterson writes in a voice that is both urbane and conversational, confident in its refusal to look away from what is happening. She uses the figure of a woman who resists and transforms a bloodthirsty man—not through violence, but through something quieter and more radical—to ask what we have forgotten about ourselves.
The moment we are in, she argues, demands a choice. We are at a point where people with power make decisions and everyone else does what they can. Women have only been allowed into schools for less than a century. In her own country, women could not open a bank account until 1975. Democracy itself is fragile because it has barely existed. And now, as people grow angry about the economy, about the cost of living, about the future, they become vulnerable to figures like Trump, Putin, and Xi Jinping—men who seem to belong to the past but who have revealed themselves to be disturbingly modern. Winterson is clear about what she sees: these are manipulative people who want power and money, and they are winning because the left is not pushing hard enough.
But she refuses to be a pessimist. She insists that we have the capacity to choose, that we have power. Everyone wants to be part of the conversation, to be involved in decisions that affect their lives. The problem is not human nature—people are not naturally cruel or full of hate. These things have been taught to us by people who want more money and more power. What angers her most is that the strong men of today do not use technology to involve people in decision-making. They use it to concentrate wealth and control.
This is where artificial intelligence enters the picture. We stand at a fork in the road. Technology could help us redistribute abundance, to ensure that everyone has security and food and a life that is not degrading. The railroad was once imagined as a democratic invention—a way to connect Europe, to bring people together. We have the abundance now. We have the technology. We could build a society that is not obscene. But we will not, Winterson says, because the people in charge do not want to.
The alternative is a technological dystopia where the benefits concentrate in the hands of a new class of sultans. If you invent a machine that does all the work, who keeps all the wealth? They do. We will have created a system where someone lives in a basement and works three jobs to feed their child, while the technology that could have freed them instead enslaves them further. This is not inevitable. It is a choice. And right now, the choice is being made by people who are obsessed with money and power.
Winterson speaks about the lies that have been told—about Brexit, about immigration policy, about what technology will do. She is angry about false democracy, about politicians who say whatever will get them elected and then do something entirely different. She is angry that people were not told the truth, that they were manipulated. She wants politicians who will say what they mean and let people decide. She wants a genuine democracy, not a performance of one.
Yet she does not believe this is the end of the story. If there is a war, we will have to imagine something from the ruins. We have lived through a golden period and forgotten the lessons we learned. But we can still change things. We are at the exact moment to decide what our values will be and what our principles will be. The question is whether we will do it before the men who are ruining everything make it impossible.
Notable Quotes
We need better politicians, politicians who are not obsessed with money and power.— Jeanette Winterson
We are at the exact moment to decide what our values will be and what our principles will be.— Jeanette Winterson
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
You keep coming back to this idea that we have a choice. But doesn't it feel like the choice has already been made for us?
That's the despair talking. Yes, the people in power are making choices that benefit themselves. But they're not the only ones making choices. The question is whether the rest of us will make ours consciously or just accept what we're told.
What does a conscious choice look like when most people are exhausted and angry?
That's exactly why Winterson is so insistent about truth-telling. When people are lied to—about Brexit, about what technology will do, about who benefits—they can't make real choices. They're choosing based on a false picture. Democracy requires that people actually know what's happening.
But technology could help with that, couldn't it? Better information, more connection?
It could. That's what makes it so infuriating. The technology exists to involve people in decisions that affect their lives. Instead, it's being used to manipulate them and concentrate power. It's a choice, not an accident.
So what would it look like if we chose differently?
A society where abundance is shared, where technology serves everyone, where people have security and dignity. Not perfect. But not obscene. The railroad was supposed to connect Europe. We could do that now with what we have. We just have to decide we want to.
And if we don't?
Then we get the dystopia. The new sultans with everything, everyone else with nothing. But Winterson won't accept that as inevitable. She says we can still change it. We're at the moment where we decide what we believe in.