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I want you to watch a video. It’s a Tesla, navigating a busy grocery store parking lot. It loops once, patiently, processing the chaos of shopping carts and distracted pedestrians before identifying a suitable spot and backing in perfectly. There's no magic here, not really. But it feels like it. It’s a little glimpse of a future we’ve been promised for decades, unfolding right now on a random Tuesday afternoon. When I first saw the demo, I honestly just sat back in my chair, speechless. This is the kind of breakthrough that reminds me why I got into this field in the first place.
But as we marvel at these machines learning to think, we too often forget the most important question: who taught them? What is the invisible architecture—not of silicon, but of human spirit—that makes this possible? The answer, it turns out, is more fragile than we think.
Let’s talk about Jensen Huang. You know him as the leather-jacket-clad CEO of Nvidia, the company whose silicon brains are powering this entire AI revolution. He’s a titan. But recently, he said something that cuts right to the heart of everything we’re seeing. In a statement that cuts to the heart of the issue, Jensen Huang said his family wouldn't have been able to afford the $100K H-1B visa fee when they immigrated to the US.
Think about that for a second. Jensen Huang, the man whose company is fundamentally reshaping our world, might never have made it to the United States. He arrived at age nine, an immigrant from Taiwan with a story that sounds like the blueprint of the American dream. He said it himself: "Immigration is the foundation of the American dream."
This isn't a political argument; it's a fundamental equation of innovation. The incredible progress we see in AI is an engine, but that engine is useless without fuel. And the highest-octane fuel on planet Earth is human talent, ambition, and a diversity of perspectives. When Huang says, "The miracle of Nvidia… would not be possible without immigration," he's giving us the secret formula. We are watching the output of that formula every time a Tesla FSD system makes a complex decision, but we're dangerously close to restricting the input. What other miracles are we putting at risk? How many future Jensen Huangs might be turned away, their potential never unlocked?

This is the ghost in the machine. It’s the human story behind the code, the dream behind the data. The progress isn’t inevitable. It’s built, painstakingly, by people. People who often come from somewhere else, seeking a place where their ideas can flourish.
Now, let's go back to that Tesla. The latest version, FSD v14.1, isn't perfect. It sometimes gets confused, signaling a turn for no reason or taking an illogical route out of a parking lot. But look at what it can do. It can now handle unprotected turns with more confidence, navigate around road debris, and even make a judgment call at a tricky intersection—choosing to reverse out of the intersection on a red light instead of pushing through. Some drivers would have gone, some would have backed up. The fact that the car could even weigh those options is the breakthrough.
This is the messy, beautiful reality of progress. It’s not a clean, linear ascent; it’s a series of brilliant, flawed, and constantly improving steps. Each of those improvements in the FSD software—every single line of code that makes the car a little bit smarter, a little bit safer—is the direct result of a team of brilliant minds. Minds that were assembled from all over the world.
Think of the neural network at the heart of the FSD. In simpler terms, it’s a computer system modeled on the human brain, designed to learn from vast amounts of data. It learns from experience, just like we do. But for it to learn, it first had to be created. That creation is an act of human genius. The speed of this is just staggering—it means the gap between what was science fiction yesterday and what is a beta feature in your car today is closing faster than we can even comprehend.
This moment feels like the early days of the automobile, when cars were unreliable and strange, but you could just feel they were about to change everything. We are right there again. And with this power comes immense responsibility. We have to ensure these systems are developed safely and ethically. But the first responsibility, the one that precedes all others, is to make sure we don’t choke off the supply of talent that makes any of it possible in the first place.
Ultimately, the future isn’t just about lines of code written into a machine. It’s about the unwritten code of a society—our values, our openness, our belief in human potential. The incredible technology we see emerging is a direct reflection of that code. A self-driving car is not just an achievement of engineering; it is an achievement of a culture that attracts and empowers the world’s brightest to build the impossible. If we want to continue seeing these miracles, we have to protect the source. The dreamers. The builders. The immigrants. They are the ones writing the future.