AI policy

Phil McCracken here, checking the kitchen pass in Washington, where the national AI strategy is being prepared by people whose professional networks already know the technology industry’s preferred recipe. A recent Revolving Door Project report focuses on Sriram Krishnan, describing his technology and venture-capital background, his role as a White House AI adviser, and his continued advisory connection to the administration. That is not proof of misconduct. It is, however, a reminder that the revolving door now spins fast enough to generate its own electricity.

The administration’s AI Action Plan calls for faster deployment, expanded data-center construction, permitting reform, government procurement, and reduced regulation. Each item can be defended as a national priority. Each can also produce very agreeable weather for technology companies, investors, contractors, and the lobbyists who help translate public urgency into private opportunity. When the same policy menu serves the public mission and the industry ecosystem, the public deserves more than a chef’s hat and a promise that nothing is burning.

Then comes the invoice-shaped detail. A 2024 lobbying disclosure reports $100,000 in lobbying income for Cornerstone Government Affairs work on behalf of Andreessen Horowitz, covering technology, blockchain, cryptocurrency, energy, and related issues. That filing does not prove a particular policy was purchased, and nobody should turn alignment into an ethics verdict by vibes alone. But it does establish the kind of money trail voters are entitled to inspect when public officials are shaping rules that can affect private investment.

This is the practical problem with calling every acceleration “necessity.” Data centers require land, power, water, roads, permits, workers, and eventually somebody else’s utility bill. Procurement decisions determine whose systems enter public agencies. Deregulation determines who bears the risk when the promised miracle arrives with a maintenance contract. The country may need serious AI policy, but seriousness includes disclosing the relationships around the recipe, not merely announcing that dinner is patriotic.

“Let them cook” is the only slogan honest enough for this arrangement. Fine—but let taxpayers see who supplied the ingredients, who wrote the menu, and who receives the catering bill. Public service should not be disqualified by an industry résumé, yet industry influence should never be hidden behind national urgency. Follow the invoice, and the kitchen gets less mysterious.