So there I am, three bourbons deep on a Tuesday afternoon, reading about Sam Altman getting served with a subpoena while literally standing on a stage next to Steve Kerr, and I think to myself: this is the most San Francisco thing that’s ever happened.
The scene is almost too perfect. Altman’s up there doing his usual song and dance at some tech event, probably talking about how AI is going to save humanity or cure cancer or finally make a decent cup of coffee, when some guy just waltzes onstage, envelope in hand, and goes “Hey Sam, got something for you.” Not an autograph request. Not a pitch deck. A goddamn subpoena.
The balls on this investigator from the San Francisco Public Defender’s Office. The sheer audacity. I’m imagining this guy waiting in the wings like he’s about to deliver a singing telegram, except instead of “Happy Birthday,” it’s “Congratulations, You’re Now a Witness in a Criminal Trial.”
Here’s what kills me about this whole thing: they tried the normal routes first. They went to OpenAI’s headquarters. They used the online portal, which I’m sure is some sleek, AI-powered contact form that probably auto-replies with “Thanks for reaching out! Your message is important to us and will be ignored within 3-5 business days.” When the civilized methods failed, they went old school. They sent a guy to just hand him the damn thing in person, in front of hundreds of people and probably a dozen cameras.
That’s not serving a subpoena. That’s performance art.
The subpoena connects to a case involving Stop AI, an activist group that’s been protesting outside OpenAI’s offices. Some of their members are on trial for allegedly blocking entrances back in February. And now Altman has to show up in court as a witness, which means he’ll have to sit in a courtroom and answer questions under oath about people who think he’s literally trying to kill everyone on Earth.
Let me pour another one while I contemplate that statement from Stop AI, because it’s a doozy. They said their protests were “an attempt to slow OpenAI down in their attempted murder of everyone and every living thing on Earth.” Not some living things. Not most living things. Every living thing. Plants included, presumably. They’re out here blocking office entrances to save the ferns.
Look, I’m as skeptical about AI as anyone who’s spent too many years watching Silicon Valley hype cycles come and go like fashion trends. But “attempted murder of everyone and every living thing on Earth” is the kind of charge you usually see in comic books or really ambitious James Bond movies. It’s the villain’s endgame speech, not a criminal defense strategy.
And yet here we are, and Stop AI says this trial will be “the first time in human history where a jury of normal people are asked about the extinction threat that AI poses to humanity.” Which is technically true, I guess, though I suspect the actual legal question will be more like “Did these people block a doorway in February?” rather than “Will ChatGPT-7 turn us all into paperclips?”
The timing of this whole circus is what really gets me. This happened during a discussion about technology, inequality, and wealth. Someone asked Altman about the gap between Nvidia CEO Jensen Huang’s $179 billion fortune and millions of Americans losing food assistance. Altman’s response? Huang “isn’t responsible for people losing benefits” and has done “wonderful things for the country and the economy.”
Right. Because when people are choosing between paying rent and eating, what they really need to hear is how great it is that someone figured out how to sell graphics cards for training AI models. That’s like telling a drowning man about the wonderful advances in yacht design.
But that’s the moment when the process server struck. Right in the middle of Altman defending billionaire wealth inequality. You couldn’t script better timing if you tried. It’s like the universe said, “Oh, you’re explaining why extreme wealth concentration is actually good? Here, have a legal document reminding you that some people think you’re destroying all life on Earth.”
The contrast is what makes this beautiful. On one hand, you’ve got the sleek, polished world of tech conferences and celebrity basketball coaches and discussions about how AI will transform everything. On the other hand, you’ve got a guy with an envelope who just needs you to show up in court and answer some questions about protesters who blocked a door.
It’s the collision of two different realities. The reality where Sam Altman is the visionary CEO of one of the most important companies in the world, worth billions, shaping the future of humanity. And the reality where Sam Altman is just a guy who can be legally compelled to show up somewhere he doesn’t want to be, same as anyone else.
Money can buy you a lot of things. It can buy you the best lawyers money can find. It can buy you a PR team that can spin anything. It can buy you stage time with Steve Kerr. But it can’t buy you immunity from a process server who’s determined enough to walk onstage and hand you an envelope in front of God and everybody.
The San Francisco Public Defender’s Office tried the polite route. They tried the official channels. When those didn’t work, they adapted. They improvised. They went to where Altman was going to be, in public, on a stage, and they served him there. It’s almost refreshingly analog in its directness. No algorithms. No optimization. Just a guy with an envelope and a job to do.
What happens next is going to be fascinating. You’ve got a criminal trial where the defendants believe they’re on trial for trying to prevent human extinction. You’ve got the CEO of OpenAI being called as a witness. You’ve got a jury of “normal people” who are going to have to sort through questions about AI safety, civil disobedience, and whether blocking an office entrance counts as attempted species salvation.
I’m imagining the jury deliberation. “So, Dave, what do you think?” “Well, Susan, I think they definitely blocked the door. But did they have a good reason? That’s the question.” “Do you think AI is going to kill us all?” “I don’t know, but my nephew’s been using ChatGPT to write his college essays, and honestly, the results are pretty mediocre.”
The truth is, most people don’t spend their days worrying about AI extinction scenarios. They worry about paying bills, keeping their jobs, whether their kids are doing okay in school. The gap between “AI will transform everything” and “AI might kill us all” and “I just need it to help me write an email” is vast enough to drive a truck through.
But for a brief, shining moment last week, those worlds collided on a stage in San Francisco. The future of AI, the reality of legal process, the questions about wealth and inequality, and a guy with an envelope all met in one perfect, absurd tableau.
And somewhere, a process server went home knowing he’d done his job in the most memorable way possible.
Pour one out for the analog world. It’s not dead yet.
- H.C.
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Source: OpenAI’s Sam Altman was served with a subpoena live onstage