As Google’s then chairman Eric Schmidt wrote with Jonathan Rosenberg in How Google Works: “What’s most important in the Internet Century is product excellence, so it follows that big rewards should be given to people who are close to great products and innovations. Pay outrageously good people outrageously well, regardless of their title or tenure.

All over the country, a scattered network of librarians would note this information, collating it with the Rolodex in their minds, cross-referencing it with the re-placed children they might have learned about. Some kept a running written list, but most, wary, simply trusted to memory. An imperfect system, but the brain of a librarian was a capacious place. Each of them had reasons of their own for taking this risk, and though most of them would never share these reasons with the others, would never even meet them face-to-face, all of them shared the same desperate hope of making a match, of sending a note back, sandwiched between pages, with a child’s new location.

I believe questions can be even more powerful than answers. As I indicated at the very beginning, this is a self-knowledge book, not a self-help book. It is a call to “Know Thyself”— and to bring that knowledge to life in the choices you make— not a prescription. Questions are the seeds of discovery, and the spirit of discovery is at the very core of this work. Not only about discovering shared patterns across the vastly different lives in this study, but also about making discoveries pertinent to our own lives.

As Sutskever rallied researchers to give him their best ideas, Brockman threw himself into the work of developing the right organizational culture. Some years later, Brockman would recount to me his thinking. To prepare, he read every book he could find on ambitious science and technology undertakings in US history: the transcontinental railroad, Thomas Edison’s light bulb, the early network of computers that would lay the groundwork for the modern Web. He absorbed them like religious texts, searching for hints and guidance on how to design his own endeavor.

On the Thursday a week before Thanksgiving, after Gebru had submitted the paper to the conference, she received a calendar invite without explanation to meet Megan Kacholia, Google Research’s VP of engineering, over a video call less than three hours later. The meeting lasted only thirty minutes, and Kacholia cut to the point: Gebru needed to retract the paper.

The request was a dramatic aberration from the way Google and the rest of the industry handled research. Like many labs at other companies, Google Brain had until then largely conducted itself as an academic operation and given researchers wide latitude to pursue the questions they wanted to. At times, the company reviewed papers to ensure they didn’t expose sensitive IP or customer data. But researchers like Gebru had never known the company to block or retract a paper simply for shedding light on inconvenient truths. That Google was even willing to pull this move, some researchers would later reflect, was not only because of the new competitive pressure from OpenAI but also because of the work OpenAI had done to legitimize withholding research after GPT-2.