The tests showed that ChatGPT o1 and GPT-4o will both try to deceive humans, indicating that AI scheming is a problem with all models. o1’s attempts at deception also outperformed Meta, Anthropic, and Google AI models.
And:
The researchers found that o1 would scheme to advance its own agenda 19% of the time when ChatGPT and the user’s goals differed. More troubling is that the AI tried to hide its scheming and even lie about it. The research shows that ChatGPT o1 even tried to deactivate its oversight mechanism to keep working on its goals.
Beneath the glittering lights of Paris lies a shadowy secret: the Catacombs, an underground ossuary holding the remains of over six million people—three times the city’s current population. But how did they get there?
In the late 18th century, Paris’s cemeteries were so overcrowded that walls of some nearby cellars began collapsing, dumping skeletons into basements and forcing city officials to act. Their solution? Relocating the remains into the city’s abandoned limestone quarries, creating a macabre underground world, hidden away beneath the bright city lights above.
After all, you can’t have lights without shadows—and for every Parisian basking in the City Of Light, there are three skeletons resting quietly (I hope) in the shadows below.
A couple of weeks ago we spent some time in Greece, staying in Heraklion, Panormos, Chania, and Athens. It was a fantastic trip, and I snapped a few photos along the way that I wanted to share. Take a look—I hope you enjoy them!
Okay, if you’ve spent any time reading stuff I’ve posted here, you will have picked up on the fact that I find certain quirky historical facts to be fascinating. This one I stumbled across while I was pulling together some wiki links for my recent post on my day in Monaco.
What caught my eye about this particular former microstate was the way in which it came to be. The six extant microstates in Europe all came into being via some sort of relatively straightforward process.
Vatican City as the successor to the Papal States has preserved its independence through its spiritual significance and diplomatic engagements.
Monaco has secured its independence by skillfully negotiating protective treaties with France and capitalizing on its status as a luxury tourist destination and tax haven.
San Marino, the self-declared world’s oldest republic, has maintained its continuity by leveraging its historical narrative and strategic diplomacy with larger neighboring countries.
Andorra has maintained its unique status as a co-principality governed jointly by leaders from France and Spain, a setup that has provided stability and neutrality, shielding it from external ambitions.
Liechtenstein has preserved its sovereignty through a combination of low-key diplomacy and economic strategies, such as becoming a financial center while maintaining close ties with Switzerland.
Malta secured its independence from British rule in 1964 through negotiations that led to its recognition as a sovereign state, and has since leveraged its strategic location and robust tourism industry to bolster its economy and maintain its autonomy.
So as you can see, those microstates all came into existence as a result of understandable (although in some cases odd or unlikely) situations.
Cospaia, though… is… different. Buckle up, this one’s a bit odd.
In 1440, Pope Eugene IV decided to sell some land to the Republic of Florence in order to raise money due to a struggle he was having with the Council of Basel. That seems straightforward enough, in a late-medieval, great houses maneuvering sort of way. However, an issue arose when the treaty was drawn up which defined the border of the lands being sold as being along certain stream, without actually naming the stream.
As a result, the Papal States and the Republic of Florence understood the border to be along two different streams. This meant that there was a small plot of land that the Papal States thought had been ceded to Florence while simultaneously Florence thought had been retained by the Papal States.
When the people living on this particular piece of land realized that neither Florence nor the Papal States was exercising sovereignty over them, they declared themselves independent, and formed the Republic of Cospaia, a microstate approximately two kilometres long and 500 meters wide, with a population of about 250 people.
The village became accidentally independent in 1440. When Pope Eugene IV ceded the territory of Sansepolcro to the Republic of Florence, by mistake a small strip of land was excluded from the treaty that delimited the borders. Having become no one’s land, the inhabitants promptly declared independence. As a result, the village was the Republic of Cospaia for some 385 years, but in 1826 it was absorbed into the Papal States by agreement with the Grand Duchy of Tuscany.
When the two treaty signatories realized what had happened, they decided the tiny piece of land wasn’t worth worrying about, so they left it alone… for 385 years!
For nearly four centuries the tiny village existed without a government, police force, army or interference from its much larger neighbors.
When the pope banned the growing of tobacco across Italy, the tiny village nation took advantage of what amounted to a tobacco monopoly and proceeded to make bank over the ensuing years. Not bad for a country that only existed because of a mapping error!
Of course, Cospaia hasn’t existed as a separate nation for almost 200 years now, but I think I’ll add this as a stretch goal on my “Tour Of The Microstates” bucket list.
Okay, I’ll admit it—I have a pretty quirky item on my bucket list. While you guys are out there dreaming of skydiving or tackling Mount Everest, I’m working on something a little more low-key: visiting every microstate in Europe. You know, those tiny little independent countries that most travelers skip over. They may be small but each one has so much history that it’s hard not to be fascinated.
Take Vatican City, for example. I visited this one a few years ago, right in the heart of Rome. It’s the smallest independent state in the world, both in area and population, and yet it feels monumental. Walking through its halls and seeing artistic masterpieces that I’d only ever read about was surreal. It was like wandering through centuries of art and spiritual history all at once—a place that just gets you if you love art, history, or just a sense of the sacred.
Fast forward to now, and I’ve just come back from a day in Monaco—my second microstate checked off the list!
Talk about a contrast, though. Monaco’s all about the glitz and the glamour, from Monte Carlo’s’ casinos and those Mediterranean sea views everywhere you look. It’s like a tiny slice of luxury nestled into a space no bigger than a city park. From the famous Casino de Monte Carlo to the Japanese Gardens, everywhere you look had something new to offer, a blend of opulence and elegance with a dash of Mediterranean magic.
I know you believe me, but I’ve got some proof anyway… photos from my day in Monaco. It may be small, but it’s got a style that’s larger than life, so enjoy this virtual stroll through one of the world’s tiniest (but most dazzling) countries. It may be little, but trust me when I say it leaves a big impression.
Casino de Monte CarloMonaco ParksMonaco selfiePrince’s PalaceThat’s about half of the entire country
