Skip to main content

Jensen Huang is so over the dire predictions of AI leaders like Dario Amodei [Business Insider]

If you’ve spent any time in the tech press over the last six months, you’ve probably seen the headlines. “AI could kill us all.” “The risk of extinction is real.” “We need to pause development.” These warnings, often delivered with the gravitas of a late-night public service announcement, have become a staple of the industry’s public relations diet. The man leading the charge? Dario Amodei, CEO of Anthropic, who has made a second career out of predicting the worst-case scenario for the very technology he is building.

But there is another voice in the room, and it isn’t whispering. It’s Jensen Huang, the leather-jacket-clad CEO of Nvidia. And lately, he’s had enough of the doomsday rhetoric. In a series of recent interviews and public appearances, Huang has made it abundantly clear that he is “so over” the dire predictions coming from his fellow AI leaders. He isn’t just disagreeing with them; he’s rolling his eyes in a way that only a man who has seen two decades of tech cycles can.

Fear sells, but compute builds

The fundamental clash between Huang and Amodei isn’t about whether AI is powerful. That is a given. The disagreement is about *what* that power actually means. Amodei, a former OpenAI executive, has a philosophical bent. He talks about “safety” the way a physicist talks about entropy—as an inevitable force that must be contained. He has warned about AI systems that could be used to create bioweapons or destabilize democratic institutions. He has called for more government regulation and a slower pace of development.

Jensen Huang, on the other hand, is an engineer who built the shovel for the gold rush. He runs a company worth trillions of dollars because he believes that more compute, more data, and more acceleration is the only path forward. When he hears Amodei talk about existential risk, he hears a theoretical physicist describing a black hole that hasn’t formed yet. Huang’s response is simple: “Show me the data. Show me the actual harm. Right now, all I see is a tool that makes people more productive, more creative, and more capable.”

During a recent Q&A at the GTC conference, a reporter asked Huang about the “doomer” narrative. He didn’t mince words. “Look, I respect Dario. He is very smart. But the predictions of doom? We have been hearing that for decades. When the iPhone came out, people said it would rot our brains. When the internet went public, people said it would destroy newspapers. And it did, in some ways. But we adapted. We are still here. AI is no different.”

The real problem is not the AI, it’s the humans

Huang’s frustration seems to stem from a specific place: the hypocrisy of the “safety first” crowd. He points out that the same people warning about the end of the world are also the ones desperately trying to build the most advanced models. If AI is truly an existential threat, why are you racing to build a more powerful one? “It feels like a marketing strategy,” one Nvidia insider told me, speaking on condition of anonymity. “If you build the biggest, most dangerous model, you get the most attention. Then you warn everyone about it. It’s a great way to set the agenda.”

Huang doesn’t say this directly, but his body language suggests it. He has been in the tech industry since the 1990s. He saw the dot-com crash. He saw the rise of cloud computing. He knows that every new technology is greeted with hysteria. He also knows that the people who panic usually lose. The people who build, win.

Amodei’s camp would argue that this is a dangerous oversimplification. They would say that AI is different because it is the first technology that can improve itself. They would point to the “alignment problem” as a legitimate scientific challenge. And they are not wrong. There are real, unresolved issues with how we ensure AI systems do what we want, especially as they become more autonomous.

But Huang’s point is that we cannot solve those problems in a vacuum. We cannot build safe systems if we do not build systems at all. He argues that the best way to make AI safe is to make it ubiquitous, to embed it into every layer of society, and then let the regulatory and social frameworks catch up. “You don’t learn to swim by sitting on the edge of the pool,” he said in a recent interview. “You get in the water.”

Investors are choosing Huang over Amodei

The market, for now, is firmly on Huang’s side. Nvidia’s stock has skyrocketed, while Anthropic, despite raising billions, is still a private company struggling to find a sustainable business model beyond selling API access. Investors are betting that the future belongs to the infrastructure providers, not the alarmists. They are betting that the world will find a way to use AI productively before it finds a way to destroy itself.

This creates an uncomfortable tension. On the one hand, you have a trillion-dollar company that profits directly from the acceleration of AI. On the other, you have a CEO who says, “We need to slow down.” It is hard to take the latter seriously when the former is building the factories that make the latter’s products possible. If Dario Amodei truly believed that AI was an existential threat, he would be lobbying to shut down Nvidia, not building a model that runs on Nvidia chips.

Huang knows this. And he is tired of the game. He wants to talk about the next wave of AI—the “physical AI” that will drive robots, automate factories, and transform healthcare. He wants to talk about the $100 billion investment in data centers. He does not want to spend another hour debating whether a chatbot is going to start a nuclear war.

So, what is the takeaway? Jensen Huang is not an idiot. He is not a reckless optimist. He is a realist who has seen this movie before. He believes that the best defense against the dangers of technology is more technology, better technology, and faster technology. He believes that human ingenuity will outpace human fear. And he is betting his entire company on it.

Dario Amodei might be right. We might be building a monster. But Jensen Huang is building the cage. And he is betting that the cage will hold.

Ahmed Abed – News journalist

Latest

What SaaSpocalypse? Atlassian, Twilio, and Five9 stocks soar as their AI moves deliver earnings beats [Business Insider]

In a tech landscape often painted with broad strokes of doom and gloom over software-as-a-service (SaaS) valuations, a trio of enterprise stalwarts just flipped the script. Atlassian, Twilio, and Five9—three companies that have weathered their fair share of market skepticism—delivered earnings beats that sent their stocks soaring this week. The common thread? A sharp pivot toward artificial intelligence that isn't just a buzzword in a press release, but a tangible driver of customer uptake and revenue growth. Forget the "SaaSpocalypse" narrative for a moment; these results suggest that AI might just be the lifeline the sector needed. Atlassian: The DevOps Darling Gets an AI Upgrade Atlassian, the company behind Jira, Confluence, and Trello, has long been the backbone of developer workflows. But its latest earnings report, released late Wednesday, showed that the company is successfully moving beyond its traditional "self-managed" roots into a cloud-first, AI-...

Trump, Secret Service director say agent at dinner not shot by friendly fire

You know how news cycles work. One minute everyone’s talking about a trade deal, and the next, you’re scrolling through a blur of claims, counterclaims, and grainy footage. This week, that blur has centered on a dinner, a Secret Service agent, and the phrase “friendly fire.” Let’s untangle it. The Incident That Sparked the Questions It started with a dinner. Not just any dinner—an event involving former President Donald Trump and a member of his Secret Service detail. Reports trickled out that an agent had been injured. Immediately, the internet did what it does best: filled in the blanks with speculation. Was it a security breach? An inside job? A rogue bullet? The word “friendly fire” started trending, and suddenly everyone was an expert on ballistics and protocol. I’ll be honest—when I first heard the rumor, my gut clenched. Friendly fire incidents, even in law enforcement, are ugly, messy things. They erode trust. They leave scars that don’t show up on X-rays. So when both Tr...

China's Commerce Ministry blocks US sanctions against five refineries

When you’re a major global player, you don’t just take a punch—you parry, step back, and sometimes throw one right back. That’s exactly what we’re seeing unfold between China and the United States, and it’s not just another diplomatic spat. This time, it’s personal, and it’s about oil. On a recent Tuesday, China’s Commerce Ministry dropped a statement that felt less like a formal press release and more like a chess move. They’ve officially blocked a set of U.S. sanctions aimed at five Chinese refineries. Let me tell you, reading through the official language, you could almost hear the gears grinding in Beijing. It wasn’t subtle. Now, you might be wondering: why does this matter to anyone outside a boardroom or a policy wonk’s think tank? Well, because these refineries aren’t just random factories. They’re processing Iranian crude oil—a substance that’s been under heavy U.S. sanctions for years. For the average person, this might seem like a distant trade war. But for anyone who’s f...

Sam Altman says Elon Musk can come to his GPT 5.5 party: 'World needs more love' [Business Insider]

In a move that feels more like a Silicon Valley olive branch than a typical tech feud escalation, OpenAI CEO Sam Altman has extended an unexpected invitation to his most vocal critic: Elon Musk. The offer? A seat at the table for the upcoming launch of GPT 5.5, the next major iteration of OpenAI’s conversational AI model. “The world needs more love, and honestly, more smart people working on the same problem,” Altman said in a brief interview following a product demonstration in San Francisco. “If Elon wants to come see what we’re building, the door is open. We’re all trying to get to the same future—just maybe taking different roads.” The comment is notable given the frosty history between the two tech billionaires. Musk, a co-founder of OpenAI who left the board in 2018, has since become one of the company’s harshest critics, accusing it of straying from its original nonprofit mission and of prioritizing profit over safety. He has also been building his own rival AI, xAI’s Grok, ...

We sold our dream home in the US to move into a rental abroad. Our family has less space, but our lifestyle improved. [Business Insider]

It was the kind of house you see in a real estate catalog and immediately assume belongs to someone else’s life. Four bedrooms, a sprawling backyard with a swing set, a kitchen island big enough to host Thanksgiving dinner, and a mortgage that felt like a second job. My wife, Maria, and I spent five years curating that home. We painted the nursery ourselves, planted the magnolia tree by the driveway, and replaced the carpet with hardwood floors because we believed we were building a legacy. We sold it last spring. Not because we had to. Not because we lost our jobs or fell into debt. We sold it because we realized the house was eating us alive—not financially, but emotionally. We were spending more time maintaining the lawn than lying on it. More weekends fixing the gutters than exploring the city. More energy worrying about resale value than actually living. So we did something that felt terrifying at first, then liberating: we packed two suitcases each, put the rest in storage, a...

Berkshire Hathaway's first Q&A without Warren Buffett opened with a question from a deepfake Warren Buffett [Business Insider]

When tens of thousands of shareholders filed into the CHI Health Center in Omaha this past weekend, they knew it would be different. For the first time in over six decades, Warren Buffett was not at the helm of Berkshire Hathaway’s annual meeting. The “Oracle of Omaha” stepped back this year, handing the reins to Vice Chairman Greg Abel and a new generation of leaders. But no one could have predicted the meeting’s very first moment: a question from a deepfake Warren Buffett. The auditorium, packed with investors from around the world, fell into a stunned silence. A large screen flickered to life, displaying a hyper-realistic digital avatar of the 94-year-old billionaire. The avatar, dressed in Buffett’s signature suit and glasses, leaned into an invisible microphone. “Hello, Omaha,” it said in a voice that was uncannily accurate—right down to the Midwestern cadence and the slight crackle of age. “I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I had a few things I wanted to ask Greg about th...

I was in the room when Warren Buffett gave a surprise interview at Berkshire's annual conference. The mood swung from excited to gloomy, then hopeful. [Business Insider]

I was in the room when Warren Buffett gave a surprise interview at Berkshire's annual conference. The mood swung from excited to gloomy, then hopeful. OMAHA, Neb. — I have been covering Berkshire Hathaway’s annual shareholder weekend for six years. I thought I had seen every trick the Oracle of Omaha pulls out of his sleeve. I was wrong. This year, the main event was scheduled to be a standard Q&A with Vice Chairman Greg Abel and a few portfolio managers. The official program listed no appearance by 94-year-old Warren Buffett. Most of us expected him to skip the stage, perhaps sending a video message from his home in Omaha. The whispers in the media center were polite but resigned: *He’s getting older. This is the transition.* Then, at 9:47 a.m. local time, something changed. I was sitting in the third row of the press section, laptop open, coffee lukewarm, when a Berkshire PR staffer walked on stage, leaned toward Greg Abel, and whispered something. Abel nodded, stood ...

After my divorce, I dreaded any type of holiday alone. A group of friends changed that. [Business Insider]

For years, the word “holiday” felt like a trap. After my divorce, the idea of booking a trip alone sent a cold knot into my stomach. It wasn’t the logistics that scared me—I could plan a flight and book a hotel in my sleep. It was the silence. The empty seat next to me at dinner. The awkward look from a waiter when they asked, “Table for one?” I spent two years convincing myself that solo travel was for the brave, and I was not that. I was the guy who stayed home, watching travel documentaries and eating cereal for dinner. Then, something unexpected happened. A group of friends—not close friends, more like familiar faces from a shared hobby—invited me on a long weekend trip to the coast. At first, I said no. The thought of being the “divorced guy” in a group of couples and singles felt like a social minefield. But one of them, a woman named Sarah I barely knew, called me out. “You’re not hiding forever,” she said, half-joking. “Pack a bag. We’ll handle the awkwardness.” I packed that...

I'm an 84-year-old landlord. I charge reduced rent to my housemates who help me with food, tech, and transportation. [Business Insider]

I’m an 84-year-old landlord. I charge reduced rent to my housemates who help me with food, tech, and transportation. When I tell people I’m a landlord at 84, they usually picture a grumpy old man yelling at kids to get off his lawn. That’s not me. I own a three-bedroom house in Portland, Oregon, that I’ve lived in for 40 years. After my wife passed five years ago, the silence was deafening. I didn’t need the money—I needed company. So I turned to an experiment that’s changed my life: renting out rooms not for the highest dollar, but for help with the stuff that gets harder every year. I call it “assisted living, but on my own terms.” I charge my housemates—two men in their 30s—a reduced rent of $400 each per month. In this market, that’s a steal. But the catch is simple: they help me with three things. Food. Tech. Transportation. Let me break down why this works, how I set it up, and what I’ve learned from living with strangers who became family. Why I ditched the traditional l...