The facts
On Tuesday, September 29, 2026, the White House released an AI safety accord that mistakenly listed the president’s title as “President of the Unites States.” The document was voluntarily signed by Donald Trump and six tech executives: Dario Amodei (Anthropic), Elon Musk (SpaceXAI), Greg Brockman (OpenAI), Jensen Huang (Nvidia), Mark Zuckerberg (Meta) and Sundar Pichai (Google). The accord, which Trump calls a commitment to “Super Intelligence,” outlines voluntary internal controls and external audits for AI companies to ensure systems operate as intended. It is unclear how the misspelling occurred or whether it will be corrected in the Federal Register. Trump told reporters the companies were showing “tremendous self‑policing.” Recent polls show 61% of voters oppose AI data‑center construction and 71% believe the government isn’t doing enough to regulate AI development.
Our take
Well, look at that. After gathering the tech elite for a photo‑op about steering the future of artificial intelligence, the most powerful office in the land can’t even spell the name of the country it runs. The typo - “Unites States” - now sits under Trump’s signature on a document promising to keep super‑smart AI from turning us into paperclips. It’s a perfect metaphor for an accord that relies on voluntary corporate promises as sturdy as wet toilet paper, signed by a president who has repeatedly brushed off AI risks. The White House touts “tremendous self‑policing,” yet the very word processor that drafted the pact apparently failed a basic spell‑check. The internal controls described sound impressive on paper, but the execution looks more like a Magic 8‑Ball than a robust safety net. While industry leaders warn that AI is evolving faster than regulators can keep up, the administration’s own paperwork suggests a deeper problem: a fucking government so preoccupied with ceremony that it can’t manage a simple typo. The real threat isn’t Skynet; it’s the staggering incompetence on display. If the robots ever get around to reading this accord, they’ll probably laugh themselves into oblivion before they even consider an “enslave humanity” button. In short, a typo has become the most memorable part of a policy meant to prevent an existential crisis. The end.
