On a rainy fall morning, a group of randomly selected Utahns came together to take on one of the most consequential issues of our time.

“Whatever happens here,” said Zach Boyd, director of Utah’s Office of AI Policy, standing before the room of 38, “is also going to reverberate to other governments and other populations around the world.”

They gathered for the Utah Solutions Forum, a two-day event with one goal: reach consensus with real people on what artificial intelligence issues matter most and how the state should address them.

On the outskirts of Silicon Slopes, each “delegate” walked into the luxe Draper office building that currently houses the headquarters of Bamboo, Ancestry and the newly emerged e-commerce unicorn Redo.

There, they learned from experts and leaders, and by the forum’s end, they drafted a set of 10 proposals meant to better educate Utahns on AI and hold those wielding it accountable.

A two-day turnaround is lightning speed in the policy world, said Catherine Eslinger, director of civic engagement for Mormon Women for Ethical Government. Her nonprofit is part of the Utah Common Ground coalition that hosted the forum.

The delegates included a sample of Utahns from Cache, Salt Lake and Utah counties. Just one voted against the final draft.

“I think having the time, and being able to sit down with other Utahns with good information and good advice, people came up with really great ideas,” Eslinger said.

Their ideas could stretch beyond Utah. The state is “disproportionately influential” when it comes to AI, Boyd said.

It’s also rare, he said, that governments get this sort of insight into how everyday people think.

“I’ll be looking at your solutions really carefully,” he told the room.

‘So many red flags’

The first day started with questions, including: Is AI going to make lives better or worse?

It turns out, the vast majority — 92% — think it will make their lives better and worse.

They are feeling anxious, yes. Some have already lost their jobs to it. And they have concerns. But many believe AI isn’t all bad.

Tierza Askren, a Utah County writer and Democrat, for instance, is married to a software engineer who’s shown her AI can do great things. She used it herself to help piece together some “complicated health problems” doctors didn’t seem to address.

Still, her high school and college-age kids “are vigorously anti-AI,” and she’s worried how “bad actors” could use it to access sensitive information.

She was in the same room as Phoenix Roberts, a Salt Lake County Republican and “ardent Trump supporter (most of the time)” who said he’s lost work as a ghost writer and had a hard year because of AI.

He also has grave concerns about the environmental impact of data centers, and said it made him “nervous” when AI tech leaders last month asked government leaders for more oversight.

“That raises so many red flags,” he said, “you’d think the Soviet Union is back in business.”

Despite their differences, the delegates found common ground early. Most felt they didn’t know enough about AI — and didn’t know how to learn more.

It’s why their first recommendations focused on foundation-setting: making resources and tools available so people can understand what AI is and isn’t.

That was important for Roberts.

“We talk about AI agents and bots, and sequestering them in a specific place, and as an analogy to humans, I understand how that works,” he said, “but these are 1’s and 0’s in computer programs.”

Together, they proposed a dedicated information hub, available in multiple languages, that Utahns with questions could access. And they think state funding should support AI literacy classes across the state.

They also called for “due diligence” when it comes to data center development. They proposed giving the state more control over whether or not these campuses could be built — and requiring objective environmental and economic impact analyses before moving forward.

Next, they demanded transparency: Officials who make decisions about AI should recuse themselves if there’s any conflict of interest, and NDAs should not be used to “shield matters of public interest or safety.”

They also want more oversight: consistent statewide standards for AI and data centers, compiled by subject matter experts and reevaluated every five years, plus a new AI harm category in the Utah Division of Consumer Protection’s complaint portal.

‘We’re coming into a very exciting time’

Some acknowledged they weren’t sure their recommendations went far enough.

Monica Saldana, for instance, who lives in Saratoga Springs and believes she lost her job as a software and app designer to AI, felt the NDA proposal could have gone further. She also feels reevaluating standards every five years isn’t fast enough.

Despite being laid off, Saldana feels “we’re coming into a very exciting time,” where AI’s capabilities could free up more time for “living.”

Still, she’s seen firsthand how it can upend lives, too. It’s happening quickly.

“This is the time,” she said, “to speak up and bring concerns.”

“We can hold the government accountable,” she added, “but the main people that need to be held accountable are companies.”

She remains especially wary of AI being used in schools, where she worries student data could get into the wrong hands.

“That is my biggest concern as a mother,” she said.

William Floyd, a software engineer based in Draper, said he ultimately agreed with the proposals, but he felt like one of the least pessimistic people in the room — even as he acknowledged AI may one day take his job.

He’s already weathered rounds of layoffs, and sees how the technology has made the work of some less-senior engineers redundant. He guesses that in about 10 years, only about a third of the country’s current software engineering workforce will still have a job in the field.

“I’m hoping to be one of those 30%. I don’t really have that many backup plans,” he said.

Finding common ground? A very human thing

The group’s list will be shared with local and state government officials at a November reception, Eslinger said. From there, they may show up in new laws or other policy changes. They may inform other states.

But that won’t be the forum’s only impact.

The process inspired Saldana, a Colombian citizen, to be more politically active. She said she’s now thinking seriously about pursuing U.S. citizenship.

It inspired Floyd to be more politically active too, he said — and consider a world where his labor is based more in the physical world.

It wouldn’t be such a bad thing if AI completely replaced the “computer work that we invented for ourselves,” he concluded.

“I think for humanity in general, if less people are stuck in a cubicle for eight hours typing on the computer screens,” he said, “that’s a good thing.”

Askren, the Utah County writer, wanted to be part of the forum because she was “livid” at how government officials initially responded to Utahns pushing back against the proposed Stratos data center project in Box Elder County.

As that pushback mounted, Utah Senate President Stuart Adams lost his reelection bid in June. Gov. Spencer Cox, who once supported the project, has since called the rollout “not good.”

In September, Cox went further and asked Congress to develop a nationwide framework on AI transparency, safety and accountability. He’s also proposed reforms of Utah’s Military Installation Development Authority, which cleared the way for Kevin O’Leary’s proposal.

It’s all reminded Askren of how officials reacted when Utahns voted for fair redistricting, she said.

“I have heard a lot of our political leaders in Utah basically say, ‘It’s not my job to actually listen to the people in Utah,’” she said.

She jumped at the chance to give Utah leaders something to listen to, especially about a topic so “crucial.”

But in retrospect, the discussion also showed her something very human, affirming her “core belief” that “if we stripped away the partisanship” and “our suspicions of each other,” people mostly agree.

Eslinger, who helped host the forum, echoed that, saying the event proved “how much agreement there really is” — something she’s felt on an intellectual level but doesn’t often get to see herself.

“I would love to see this kind of attitude toward public problem-solving becoming more widespread for all kinds of issues that we face as communities,” she said.