Like railroads, AI promises immense progress but also concentrates power, creating public fear of being controlled by a new monopoly. The populist uprisings by farmers against railroad companies in the 1880s offer a historical playbook for how a widespread, grassroots political movement against Big Tech could form.

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The national political conversation on AI isn't led by D.C. think tanks but by local communities protesting the impact of data centers on electricity prices and resources. This organic, grassroots opposition means national politicians are playing catch-up to voter sentiment.

New technologies perceived as job-destroying, like AI, face significant public and regulatory risk. A powerful defense is to make the general public owners of the technology. When people have a financial stake in a technology's success, they are far more likely to defend it than fight against it.

After temporary alliances like 'Red and Tech vs. Blue', the next major political shift will unite the establishment left and right against the tech industry. Blues resent tech's capitalists, Reds resent its immigrants, and the political center blames it for societal ills. This will create a powerful, unified front aiming to curtail tech's influence and wealth.

Influencers from opposite ends of the political spectrum are finding common ground in their warnings about AI's potential to destroy jobs and creative fields. This unusual consensus suggests AI is becoming a powerful, non-traditional wedge issue that could reshape political alliances and public discourse.

A new populist coalition is emerging to counter Big Tech's influence, uniting politicians from opposite ends of the spectrum like Senator Ed Markey and Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene. This alliance successfully defeated an industry-backed provision to block state-level AI regulation, signaling a significant political realignment.

The political coalition of working-class voters and the tech/VC industry could shatter over AI. A plausible 2028 scenario involves a Republican primary lane dedicated to an anti-AI platform, framing it as a job-killer and electricity-price booster, creating a significant division within the party.

Public backlash against AI isn't a "horseshoe" phenomenon of political extremes. It's a broad consensus spanning from progressives like Ryan Grimm to establishment conservatives like Tim Miller, indicating a deep, mainstream concern about the technology's direction and lack of democratic control.

The moment an industry organizes in protest against an AI technology, it signals that the technology has crossed a critical threshold of quality. The fear and backlash are a direct result of the technology no longer being a gimmick, but a viable threat to the status quo.

An unexpected side effect of replacing human managers with "faceless AI systems" is the rise of collective action. When gig workers and others are managed by impersonal algorithms, it fosters solidarity against a common, non-human adversary, leading them to form unions and activist groups to reclaim human agency.

Tech professionals are becoming a modern 'market-dominant minority'—an identifiable class that wins economically but is outnumbered democratically. Like historical parallels (e.g., Jews in Germany, Chinese in Southeast Asia), this status makes the industry a target for backlash from a frustrated majority, fueled by envy and political opportunism from both the left and right.