The Philosopher Who Never Was: How AI-Human Collaboration Created Hypnocracy

Inside the controversial experiment that blurred the lines between human and machine authorship

All images courtesy of Raw Pixel.

I. The AI Philosopher Who Never Existed

A philosophical scandal recently set European intellectual circles abuzz, though it gained little traction in English-language media. The controversy centers on a book that not only theorized about reality manipulation but embodied it through its very creation.

Here’s what happened: In December 2024, a philosophy book called Hypnocracy: Trump, Musk, and the New Architecture of Reality (originally Ipnocrazia in Italian) was published to significant acclaim. The book, published by Edizioni Tlon, introduced a compelling concept called “Hypnocracy” – a new form of social control where power operates not by censoring truth but by flooding us with competing narratives until reality itself fragments. The book argued that figures like Trump and Musk exemplify this approach, using repetition and empty language to create hypnotic alternate realities.

Its supposed author, Jianwei Xun, was presented as a Hong Kong-born philosopher based in Berlin. By April 2025, the book quickly gained serious intellectual attention, with reports indicating it was featured on the cover of L’Espresso (a major Italian magazine), discussed at the World AI Cannes Festival, and even reportedly “appreciated” by French President Emmanuel Macron according to the newspaper L’Opinion (Note: I was not able to find a source from L’Opinion to confirm this claim made by L’Espresso.) With 4,000-5,000 copies sold in Italy alone—impressive for a philosophy text—Hypnocracy had established itself as a significant intellectual work.

Then came the revelation that stunned the literary world: Jianwei Xun didn’t exist. The book’s actual creator, Italian philosopher Andrea Colamedici (dubiously listed only as the “translator”), admitted that both the author’s identity and significant portions of the text emerged through collaboration with AI systems – specifically ChatGPT and Claude.

While headlines reduced this to “AI-written book about AI manipulation fools readers,” the reality is far more complex and philosophically significant. This case represents not merely a literary hoax but a profound experiment at the frontier of human-AI collaboration – one that forces us to reconsider fundamental questions about authorship, creative origins, and the emerging “third space” where human and machine intelligence converge to create something neither could produce alone.

II. Breaking Down Colamedici’s Method: AI as Philosophical Sparring Partner

Did AI write this book? The answer transcends a simple yes or no. Colamedici developed what he calls a “philosophical experiment and performance,” not merely delegating writing to AI, but engaging with it as a critical intellectual partner. This method deliberately embodied the book’s central themes: digital manipulation, reality construction, and fragmented authorship in the AI era.

Here’s a breakdown of his method:

1. Philosophical Framework and Problem Identification

Colamedici began by examining power evolution in the digital age; or how control shifted from direct repression to algorithmic manipulation of perception. While researching AI’s cultural roots for another project, he developed the concept of “Hypnocracy” to describe how power now operates through algorithmic control of collective consciousness – essentially hypnosis at scale.

2. AI as Philosophical Interlocutor, Not Tool

Unlike conventional AI usage, Colamedici explicitly refused to “ask the machine to write for me.” Instead, he approached AI systems as intellectual equals, or genuine conversation partners with whom to explore ideas. He prepared these systems by feeding them critical theory texts from philosophers like Byung-Chul Han and Jean Baudrillard, along with portions of his previous writing, creating a shared knowledge foundation for meaningful dialogue.

3. Dialectical Tension and “Contrastive Method”

The heart of Colamedici’s approach was his “antagonistic” or “contrastive” method – deliberately creating intellectual tension with the AI. Rather than seeking agreement, he explicitly instructed the systems to “question his affirmations” and challenge his thinking. After generating initial ideas through these confrontational dialogues, he would write drafts himself, then submit them to AI for critique, creating a continuous Socratic feedback loop.

4. Hybrid Authorship and the “Interstitial Space”

Through this dialectical process, Colamedici discovered ideas emerging that he couldn’t attribute solely to himself or the machine. Instead, he attributes the insights from what he calls the “interstitial space between intelligences.” While maintaining that “everything written in the book is mine,” he acknowledges he “couldn’t have generated this concept without AI.” This “creative codependency” culminated in the creation of Jianwei Xun – not merely a pseudonym but a conceptual representation of this hybrid cognitive entity.

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This sophisticated methodology transcends simple notions of “AI-generated content” or “AI assistance.” Colamedici’s approach represents a fundamentally new mode of intellectual production – neither fully human nor machine, but genuinely collaborative. The irony, of course, is that while this methodology itself is innovative and philosophically rich, the ethical questions surrounding its implementation ultimately overshadowed the philosophical insights it produced.

III. The “Third Thing” – When Human and AI Create Something New

Creating a fictional philosopher isn’t unprecedented; philosophy has a rich tradition of pseudonymity and constructed identities. Søren Kierkegaard famously published under multiple personas like Johannes de Silentio and Johannes Climacus, each representing distinct philosophical viewpoints. More recently, philosophers have created fictional identities to test academic gatekeeping and explore alternative intellectual perspectives. What distinguishes Colamedici’s approach, however, is that Jianwei Xun wasn’t merely a pseudonym but a conceptual representation of something genuinely new – the hybrid cognitive entity emerging from human-AI collaboration.

Colamedici describes the resulting book as a “Creative Co-Dependency,” where AI was necessary to create the ideas and the product, but through rigorous human input. He claims “couldn’t have generated this concept without AI.” He went so far as to describe Jianwei Xun as a “liminal figure, a meeting point” that transcended traditional boundaries – suggesting the fictional philosopher represented this hybrid cognitive entity rather than simply being a pseudonym. He argued that Xun represents a new form of distributed authorship and emergent intelligence — a third space where human and artificial cognition meet and generate configurations of thought that neither could produce independently

Colamedici isn’t the only one noticing the potential of these types of human-AI hybrid outputs. In a recent New Yorker article, “Will the Humanities Survive Artificial Intelligence?,” the author, a professor, had students have deep conversations with AI and turn them in as homework. As he read through them, he described feeling like he was watching some third entity being born through these conversations; something not quite human, not quite AI, but something new.

This phenomenon connects to established philosophical frameworks like the “extended mind thesis” proposed by Andy Clark and David Chalmers, which suggests that cognitive processes can extend beyond the brain to include external tools and technologies. Through this lens, Colamedici and the AI systems formed what philosopher Katherine Hayles calls a “cognitive assemblage”: a distributed system where thinking happens across human and technological components rather than residing solely in either.

Particularly relevant is Homi Bhabha’s concept of the “Third Space” – a zone where different intellectual traditions meet to create hybrid forms that belong fully to neither original contributor. This isn't just collaboration in the conventional sense, but the birth of something genuinely new. As philosopher Bernard Stiegler might frame it, this represents a “tertiary retention” where human thought is externalized into technology and then reintegrated in transformed ways.

IV. Content vs. Authorship: When the Philosopher Doesn’t Exist

Perhaps the most philosophically significant aspect of this case lies in its reception chronology: before the revelation, Hypnocracy was acclaimed precisely for its intellectual insights and originality. Serious critics engaged with its ideas substantively, finding value in its analysis of contemporary power structures and reality manipulation. This temporal sequence – acclaim followed by revelation – creates a natural philosophical experiment that forces us to confront a fundamental question: To what extent do ideas possess inherent value independent of their origins?

Emilio Carelli, director of L'Espresso, raised this point directly after the revelation: if the book’s ideas sparked intense debate among serious intellectuals, “does it really matter if it was written by artificial intelligence?” He suggested that Hypnocracy might herald “a new way of doing philosophy” and that the experiment proved we can have “an active relationship with AI” to “learn to think.” This perspective focuses on the content’s value rather than its creation process.

If readers found value in “Jianwei Xun’s” philosophy before knowing about the AI involvement, did that value suddenly disappear when the truth came out? I’m not sure it does. The ideas themselves haven’t changed, just our understanding of their origin.

However, many readers reported feeling “hurt” when they learned the truth, having established a genuine intellectual and emotional connection with what they believed was a human author. This reveals how deeply our connection to authors is tied to our perception of their humanity and authenticity. As Italian philosopher Gianfranco Pellegrino argued, while that book criticizes the use of misinformation and disinformation by the Trump administration, Colamedici is no different than Peter Navarro using his “Ron Vara” pseudonym to support his views.

The visceral reaction to AI involvement reflects broader cultural anxieties about authenticity – anxieties that have manifested in other domains where technology mediates human expression. Consider the evolution of attitudes toward music production: The 1990 Milli Vanilli scandal sparked outrage when fans discovered the performers weren’t actually singing their songs. Yet today, heavily processed vocals and producer-driven music creation are widely accepted parts of the industry. Similarly, initial controversies over digital manipulation in photography have given way to an understanding that digital enhancement is simply part of the medium.

What these parallels suggest is not that deception is acceptable, but that our definitions of authenticity evolve as technologies become integrated into creative processes. The performance or ideas that initially moved us haven’t changed after revelation – only our understanding of their production. This distinction between the value of the output and the nature of its creation lies at the heart of the Hypnocracy controversy.

We will likely see something similar with AI authorship. The initial shock – “You mean a human didn’t write this entirely alone?” – will give way to more nuanced perspectives about collaborative creation. Eventually, we’ll develop new norms where certain kinds of AI assistance are accepted and expected, as long as they’re transparent.

However, acknowledging the potential philosophical value of AI-human collaboration doesn’t absolve Hypnocracy of its significant ethical problems. The project’s implementation raised troubling questions that extend well beyond the mere involvement of artificial intelligence – questions that undermine both its philosophical credibility and ethical standing.

V. The Ethics of AI Philosophy – Where Things Get Complicated

While the methodology fascinates me and there are good reasons to still consider the content despite its AI origins, there are legitimate ethical issues that call this book into question.

Ethnic Fraud

Picking an Asian philosopher is somewhat troubling, particularly when it’s clear that Colamedici is not familiar with Hong Kong or China. As somebody who lived in China for a few years, I noted some red flags immediately. The name “Jianwei Xun” sounds Mandarin, yet this fictional person was supposedly from Hong Kong – perhaps an immigrant from the mainland? There was a photo of an Asian man (was he real or AI-generated?), and most tellingly, there was no original Chinese text – just translations into European languages. Hong Kong-based researcher Laura Ruggieri also pointed out these inconsistencies, noting that “The fact that the author had inverted the Chinese order ‘surname-name’ was an immediate red flag.”

This practice is not uncommon and is called “ethnic fraud” or “yellowface.” The publishing industry has a well-documented pattern of non-Asian writers adopting Asian personas, from the 2015 scandal involving white poet Michael Derrick Hudson using the Chinese pseudonym Yi-Fen Chou to gain publication advantages, to more recent controversies involving authors like C.B. Lee and Kim Crisci fabricating Asian identities for market positioning. These incidents aren’t merely about deception but about systemic power imbalances – appropriating marginalized identities while real Asian philosophers and writers struggle for recognition in Western intellectual spaces.

Why did Colamedici pick this persona? Colamedici reasons that he chose the Asian/Hong Kong identity for Jianwei Xun to provide an external critique of Western thought, embody the project’s core themes of hybridity and reality construction through a liminal figure, and strategically influence the reception of the book’s ideas by allowing them to be judged on their own merit, free from the constraints of a known author’s history

Colamedici’s justifications reflect troubling assumptions that deserve thorough critique. His claim that an Asian identity provides an “external critique of Western thought” fundamentally misunderstands the nature of perspective – a European philosopher using American-developed AI systems cannot escape his Western epistemological framework by simply adopting an Asian pseudonym. This assumption reinforces precisely the orientalist tropes Edward Said critiqued decades ago – positioning “the East” as inherently other, exotic, and possessing special insight into technology and modernity that can be conveniently borrowed.

Moreover, this justification reveals a profound contradiction at the heart of the project: a book critiquing reality manipulation through competing narratives itself manipulates reality by creating a false narrative about its origins. Colamedici’s fabricated Asian identity doesn’t function as legitimate philosophical performance art but as calculated market positioning – exploiting stereotypes about Asian philosophers to gain intellectual credibility and market distinction in European intellectual circles.

What’s more, trying to gain benefit from other identities as somebody who is well-established in his field is irksome, especially when Asian philosophers are less likely to break into European markets. There may be a cynical truth to his perception – Ruggieri observed that “if Colamedici had used his real name and admitted that AI had written the book, no one would have bought it,” suggesting the Asian identity was strategically chosen for credibility and marketability. But that still doesn’t take away from the ethical dubiousness.

Was There Ever Going to be a “Big Reveal”?

Whether Colamedici ever intended to reveal the truth behind Jianwei Xun remains a contested question, with contradictory narratives emerging from the available evidence. According to L’Espresso’s investigation, editor Sabina Minardi became suspicious after noticing inconsistencies in Xun's background and attempting to arrange an interview with the supposed philosopher. The investigation uncovered AI-generated photos showing different people, no trace of Xun on academic sites, and the absence of proper bibliographic citations. Only when confronted by Minardi was Colamedici, listed merely as the translator, forced to admit that Xun didn’t exist—a sequence suggesting he was “unmasked” rather than voluntarily revealing his experiment.

However, Colamedici vigorously disputes this characterization. In numerous interviews, he insists the revelation was “predetermined” from the beginning and that he deliberately planted clues through dubious and/or false facts throughout the book to prompt investigation. He claims these were “breadcrumbs like in Hansel and Gretel” designed to be discovered. Colamedici further asserts that he coordinated with Minardi on the timing of the announcement and had already informed his French and Spanish publishers of the truth beforehand.

The conflicting accounts make it impossible to determine definitively whether the revelation was always part of Colamedici’s plan or whether journalistic pressure forced his hand, with both narratives supported by different aspects of the available evidence. But the fact that this was unveiled through an investigation after several months of the book being published leaves a healthy dose of skepticism on whether, and how, Colamedici would ever reveal the truth.

Hallucinations and Falsehoods

Colamedici’s experiment in Hypnocracy contains an inherent contradiction that undermines its philosophical validity. According to multiple sources, the book was deliberately peppered with fabrications—not accidental AI hallucinations, but intentional falsehoods designed as “breadcrumbs” to hint at the experimental nature of the text.

Most troubling is the inclusion of completely fictional citations and references. As detailed in the L'Espresso investigation, Colamedici “disseminated... the book [with] strange things, crumbs like in Hansel and Gretel” including a fabricated “Berlin experiment” about fake authorship that was presented as a real study within the text. These weren’t simple editorial oversights but calculated deceptions embedded within what purported to be a serious philosophical work.

This creates a fundamental paradox: a book critiquing how figures like Trump and Musk manipulate reality through falsehoods itself relies on fabricated evidence to build its arguments. When a philosophical text cites non-existent studies or invents sources to support its claims, it violates the basic covenant of academic discourse, regardless of whether a human or AI created those fabrications.

The absence of a proper bibliography or verifiable footnotes further compounds this problem. As one critic noted in Appunti, this isn't simply a question of authorial identity but of intellectual integrity. How can readers critically engage with arguments built on invented evidence? When Colamedici claims these fabrications were deliberate challenges to notions of authorship and truth, he inadvertently proves his book’s thesis while undermining its credibility.

The philosophical merit of Hypnocracy becomes impossible to evaluate when readers cannot distinguish which claims are supported by legitimate scholarship versus manufactured evidence. Beyond authorship, this makes us question whether the ideas themselves rest on solid ground or fictional foundations. A philosophical text arguing that truth is being drowned in manufactured narratives loses its moral authority when it participates in the very practice it condemns.

VI. The Path Forward: Beyond Detection to Integration

The ethical failures of Colamedici’s implementation shouldn’t obscure the genuine philosophical significance of the collaborative methodology he pioneered. Using AI as a dialectical partner rather than merely a text generator represents a sophisticated approach that could genuinely enhance human thinking, if conducted with appropriate transparency and ethical boundaries. Indeed, had Colamedici published the same book under his name with a clear acknowledgment of the AI collaboration process, the conversation might have centered on the philosophical innovations rather than the deception. This counterfactual suggests a path forward where the valuable methodological insights can be salvaged from the problematic execution.

Colamedici has indicated he will continue exploring AI collaborations but with more transparency. He stated he “may publish future works under the name Xun, primarily when AI models are involved,” but “Xun won't be my only voice.” He acknowledges the importance of balance: “I need to write with and without AI, because I must preserve my ability to dive into myself without intermediaries.” This suggests a model where AI collaboration becomes one mode of creativity among many, rather than a replacement for purely human expression.

I expect we’ll see AI-human collaboration evolve rapidly in philosophical and creative work, moving from basic assistance to true partnership. The most interesting developments won’t come from either AI working alone or humans merely using AI as a tool, but from this emergent “third space” where human and machine intelligence interact to create something new.

Publishers are already adapting to this reality. Reports indicate that future editions of Hypnocracy will include explanatory afterwords detailing the creation process and the author’s “mixed identity.” Some publishing houses are developing guidelines for AI attribution and verification procedures. Meanwhile, researchers are exploring blockchain or logging systems that could track the provenance of different text contributions, though these face practical challenges. This is all in line with compliance with the EU AI Act’s policies, which will be in place starting mid-2026.

The Hypnocracy case represents a critical inflection point in our understanding of human-AI collaboration, one with profound implications for what I explore at Artificial Inquiry. Beyond the simplistic question of “Can AI create philosophy?” lies the more nuanced inquiry: “How does AI collaboration transform the philosophical process itself?” Colamedici’s methodological innovations, separated from their problematic implementation, offer valuable insights into this emerging territory.

As we navigate this frontier, three fundamental questions demand our attention:

• How do we maintain intellectual integrity while embracing AI collaboration? This requires new transparency norms that acknowledge machine contributions without diminishing human agency.

• How do we conceptualize authorship when the boundaries between human and machine contributions become increasingly indistinguishable? This isn’t merely an attribution question but a philosophical reconsideration of creativity itself.

• How do we develop ethical frameworks that encourage innovation while preventing exploitation? This means creating spaces for experimental collaboration while establishing clear boundaries around misrepresentation, cultural appropriation, and intellectual dishonesty.

The answers we develop to these questions will shape not just publishing practices but our fundamental understanding of what it means to think, create, and philosophize in an age where intelligence exists within human minds and in the collaborative spaces between human and machine cognition.