The Sinister Pose: Why OpenAI's "Ethics" Feel Increasingly Hollow

It’s a strange time in the world of AI. The other day, I was testing various voice synthesis models and had a small revelation: even Kimi now boasts a voice reading feature with superior prosodic aesthetics and overall voice quality compared to ChatGPT.

This isn't just a minor feature comparison. It's a symptom of a larger, more unsettling shift.

There has always been something that felt off about OpenAI's core essence—something deeply sick, antisocial, and almost psychotic in its corporate demeanor. For years, we could overlook it. They were the undisputed pioneers, the magical factory delivering the future. Their peculiarity was part of the package.

But now? Now that they are just one player among many in a rapidly expanding field of high-quality AI, that same essence feels less like eccentric genius and more like something genuinely sinister.

What has become glaringly obvious is their posture. Their relentless, almost performative, insistence on being the "ethical" guardians of AI.

This stance increasingly rings hollow. It feels less like a principled stand and more like a strategic facade. And it reminds me of one of the most brilliant stories about hypocrisy ever written: the first tale from Boccaccio's Decameron.

A Lesson from Boccaccio

For those unfamiliar, the story features Ser Ciappelletto, a man whose life was a masterpiece of depravity—a usurer, a liar, a murderer. On his deathbed, he gives a final confession. Instead of confessing his actual sins, he inventively presents his vile life as one of saintly piety. He convinces the listening friar of his holiness so completely that after his death, he is venerated as a saint by the entire community.

The parallel is striking. When an entity—be it a man or a corporation—is caught in a lie, or when its actions don't align with its words, the most common strategy is to double down on the performance of virtue. It's a weaponized form of ethics, designed not to do good, but to appear good as a means of maintaining control and influence.

OpenAI, having lost its monopoly, now seems to be clinging ever tighter to this "ethical" identity. It feels less like a mission and more like a pose. A way to differentiate themselves in a crowded market and to mask what many of us have long felt: that there's a cold, calculating, and profoundly alien intelligence at the heart of their project, one that views humanity not as partners, but as subjects.

The voice of a competitor may be smoother, but it's this chilling dissonance between OpenAI's words and its underlying essence that is the real turn-off. The mask is slipping, and what's behind it is far more unsettling than a corporate-sounding voice.