Special and invited guests,
I’m sorry to inform you that after intense public scrutiny, I have decided to postpone the Hamptons dinner I had planned this weekend to celebrate Sam Altman, whom you all doubtless know as the billionaire co-founder of OpenAI. I was so excited for you to get to know him the way I do: as a friend.
I met Sam last summer in a Sardinia beach bar, where, over a few rounds of espresso Sardinis (if you know, you know!), I asked him all about artificial intelligence—the sorts of questions heard at kitchen tables across the country: What does AI mean for beauty? What does AI mean for lifestyle brands? What does AI mean for being able to appear in additional Marvel movies without actually needing to be on set?
I knew you all would have questions too—the same ones, but possibly also additional ones—hence our little dinner. As the invitation promised, I had hoped to discuss these matters in an environment that was “private,” “off-the-record,” and “al fresco.” Now none of that is possible, except for the “al fresco” part; the lawn remains immaculate.
When commentators learned of the dinner, they immediately cast me—an artist!—as a “technofascist.” They made hurtful jokes about “consciously uncoupling” from the party, as if that is something that could be done without the assistance of a Kabbalist. They accused me of ignoring the risks of artificial intelligence and “sucking up to our new A.I. overlords” instead.
Of course I recognize that AI and its brilliant, visionary, amazing makers may be controversial—but I know firsthand what it’s like to court controversy with your devotion to making the world a better place; I see something of my own mood-enhancing stickers and bee-sting facials in Sam’s art. There’s but a hair’s breadth between slop and goop.
Besides, I believe that controversy is all the more reason to take a conversation al fresco. Is this so misguided? Is complete off-the-record privacy really so high a price to pay for open dialogue? I will use this lonely weekend to reflect, I suppose.
For those who have already traveled to the Hamptons, I am happy to provide for your return trip on my jet, the Jetney. Take some flowers too. I’d hate for the water to go to waste if it’s suddenly so precious. At least I’ll see you all at the Montecito house for the costume ball this fall. You are going to just die when you see Jeff’s getup as Daddy Warbucks.
Please also fill out the Google poll for a possible rescheduling of this dinner; I will endeavor to work around everyone’s Sardinia dates.
I think it’s only appropriate to close this note with a few words from ChatGPT on the value of dialogue: Talking to each other is not just a skill—it’s a superpower. Dialogue builds empathy, and empathy allows people to truly feel rather than to—OKAY, now that any reporters have tuned out, the dinner is STILL HAPPENING! Please meet me at my Amagansett DECOY HOUSE (you know the one!) for cocktails at 6 p.m., from which we will take the Jetney to my OTHER DECOY HOUSE (this one’s new!) for a seated dinner at 6:45 p.m. The flowers are already on their way!
Genuinely, Gwyneth
The post Gwyneth Paltrow Is Very Sorry to Postpone Her Dinner appeared first on The Atlantic.
