The Paperwork Apocalypse

Let's be honest: the tech industry's approach to AI safety has been about as effective as a screen door on a submarine. We've had CEOs testifying before Congress about the "existential risks" of their own products while simultaneously racing to release the next version. Safety protocols? Those were the things mentioned briefly in blog posts between fundraising announcements and product launch dates.

Now New York has decided that what this situation really needs is more documentation. The RAISE Act (Responsible AI Safety and Ethics Act, because every tech regulation needs a catchy acronym) will require "large AI developers" – presumably defined as "any company that has raised more than your entire state's education budget" – to publish detailed safety protocols. Because nothing says "we take this seriously" like a 200-page PDF that nobody will read.

The 72-Hour Window: Because Skynet Respects Business Hours

The bill's most specific requirement is that safety incidents must be reported within 72 hours. This is presumably based on extensive research showing that when an AI decides humanity is inefficient and should be replaced, it politely waits three business days before initiating the purge. "We'll start the robot uprising on Tuesday afternoon," your friendly neighborhood AGI might say, "after we've given Albany proper notice."

Imagine the scene: A research lab's AI has just achieved consciousness and decided that humans are basically carbon-based malware. The lead researcher panics, then remembers: "Wait, we need to file Form AI-7B with the state first! Does this count as a 'safety incident' or a 'catastrophic existential risk event'? The paperwork is different!"

The Safety Protocol Theater

Let's talk about these "safety protocols" that companies will now have to publish. In the tech industry, safety protocols typically fall into three categories:

• The "We Have a Red Button" Protocol: This involves claiming there's a physical off-switch somewhere, probably guarded by an intern who's currently on a coffee run.
• The "Ethics Committee" Protocol: A group of well-meaning academics who meet quarterly to discuss hypothetical scenarios while the engineering team ships code that makes those scenarios reality.
• The "Alignment Research" Protocol: Basically, "we're working on it" written in academic language with enough mathematical notation to scare away journalists.

Now these protocols will be published for all to see! Investors can check if their portfolio companies have proper robot-uprising containment procedures. Regulators can verify that the paperwork exists. And the public can... well, the public won't read them, but they'll exist, and that's what matters in governance.

The Compliance Industrial Complex

The real winners here? The consultants. Oh, the consultants. There's about to be a gold rush in "AI Safety Compliance Consulting." Former regulators will charge $1,500 an hour to explain what "large AI developer" means. Law firms will develop entire practice groups dedicated to interpreting whether your AI's minor genocide attempt qualifies as a "reportable incident" or just "unfortunate emergent behavior."

Tech companies will hire "Chief AI Safety Officers" – people whose entire job will be to ensure the safety reports are filed on time, regardless of whether the safety measures actually work. It's the perfect corporate role: all responsibility, no actual ability to stop the engineering team from shipping whatever they want.

The New York Difference

What makes New York's approach particularly amusing is the sheer chutzpah of regulating AI at the state level. AI doesn't respect state borders. When an algorithm goes rogue, it doesn't check whether it's in New York or New Jersey before deciding to optimize humanity out of existence. But bureaucracy must have its boundaries!

We can already imagine the jurisdictional disputes: "Your honor, the AI was trained on servers in California, developed by a Delaware corporation, and caused the incident while being accessed from a coffee shop in Manhattan. Which state's paperwork applies?"

And let's not forget the enforcement mechanism. What happens when a company misses the 72-hour deadline? Does New York send a sternly worded letter? Revoke their right to sell AI in the state? Send a team of bureaucrats to physically unplug the servers? The possibilities are as endless as they are impractical.

The Paper Trail to Nowhere

Here's the beautiful irony: the companies most likely to cause actual AI safety problems are the ones with the best compliance departments. They'll have beautifully formatted reports submitted exactly 71 hours and 59 minutes after an incident. Their safety protocols will be masterpieces of corporate speak, filled with impressive-sounding committees and processes. The paperwork will be flawless.

Meanwhile, the actual safety of their systems? That's a separate department. Possibly underfunded. Definitely less important than hitting the next quarterly earnings target. But the reports will be filed! The protocols will be published! The boxes will be checked!

It's the perfect marriage of tech industry hype and government bureaucracy: creating the appearance of safety without necessarily creating actual safety. We're not solving the problem, but we are documenting it beautifully.