Is a fake summer reading list a harmless AI "hallucination" or a glimpse of something more troubling: a culture slowly surrendering to the smooth, convincing voice of unreality?
I'm glad you included the caveat that "It's too soon to despair" Steven - that's certainly where I was headed. There are times when I feel like the narrator in H G Wells' Time Machine helplessly watching the Eloi walk towards their doom.
More and more we hear similar stories; where laziness leads to lapses, and ignorance to indifference. The classic from a few years ago was the US lawyer who used AI to create a brief of evidence only to discover that it included fake case law. Fortunately, this too was discovered by the trial judge.
(Sadly) I don't imagine there's going to be a rush to introduce classes in epistemology and philosophy into schools to counter our drift into unreality.
I'm reading Simon Winchester's "Knowing What We Know" (not a made-up title!). It is a history of how knowledge is created and disseminated, going back to cuneiform clay tablets). He asks if we will still need to "know" anything when Google, AI, etc become not just capable of answering any question we might have, but of obviating the need for us to know things at all.
I view AI with as much tolerance as I can muster. Its uncanny ability to shorten the way in the arduous business of writing grant proposals, business reports, etc, is an enticement. However, I prefer to chip away at the block of writing by myself, always in the hope that what emerges will be something that might not have seen the light of day in any other way. And this is precisely what cannot be guaranteed by AI. That said, The rainmaker is a book that someone should be writing, a book about a future featuring artificially induced rain seems to me to be a sure fire winner.
Steven, by a stroke of luck, I've found the beginning of this story secreted in an invisible AI cache online:
It rained in October. It never rained in October. It was wet in January, February, and March each year: First of January to the Thirty First of March. Never in October. The clouds rolled in. The clouds stayed there. It rained, and it rained, and it rained, and it rained. After the 31st of March, the clouds rolled away and the sun came out, inexorable, swollen, and egg-like in size. The old sun aside, this wasn’t right. Someone would have to do something about it. He hoped it wasn’t him.
The rain was produced by an AI, Artificial Intelligence, that had done this job very well for some years now. As distinct from a FISH, or Flesh Intelligence Standard Hosting, which is what Cal was. Cal saw no reason why he should have to step in, an AI did it, and an AI could keep doing it. He was programmed otherwise.
I'm glad you included the caveat that "It's too soon to despair" Steven - that's certainly where I was headed. There are times when I feel like the narrator in H G Wells' Time Machine helplessly watching the Eloi walk towards their doom.
More and more we hear similar stories; where laziness leads to lapses, and ignorance to indifference. The classic from a few years ago was the US lawyer who used AI to create a brief of evidence only to discover that it included fake case law. Fortunately, this too was discovered by the trial judge.
(Sadly) I don't imagine there's going to be a rush to introduce classes in epistemology and philosophy into schools to counter our drift into unreality.
I remain optimistic, but some say it is already too late. For example, see: https://www.thefp.com/p/the-knowledge-system-collapse?utm_campaign=260347&utm_source=cross-post&r=uhxa5&utm_medium=email
I'm reading Simon Winchester's "Knowing What We Know" (not a made-up title!). It is a history of how knowledge is created and disseminated, going back to cuneiform clay tablets). He asks if we will still need to "know" anything when Google, AI, etc become not just capable of answering any question we might have, but of obviating the need for us to know things at all.
But what happens when AI is simply riffing, making things up?
I view AI with as much tolerance as I can muster. Its uncanny ability to shorten the way in the arduous business of writing grant proposals, business reports, etc, is an enticement. However, I prefer to chip away at the block of writing by myself, always in the hope that what emerges will be something that might not have seen the light of day in any other way. And this is precisely what cannot be guaranteed by AI. That said, The rainmaker is a book that someone should be writing, a book about a future featuring artificially induced rain seems to me to be a sure fire winner.
No worries, Peter. I am sure the AI Bot will write it someday.
Steven, by a stroke of luck, I've found the beginning of this story secreted in an invisible AI cache online:
It rained in October. It never rained in October. It was wet in January, February, and March each year: First of January to the Thirty First of March. Never in October. The clouds rolled in. The clouds stayed there. It rained, and it rained, and it rained, and it rained. After the 31st of March, the clouds rolled away and the sun came out, inexorable, swollen, and egg-like in size. The old sun aside, this wasn’t right. Someone would have to do something about it. He hoped it wasn’t him.
The rain was produced by an AI, Artificial Intelligence, that had done this job very well for some years now. As distinct from a FISH, or Flesh Intelligence Standard Hosting, which is what Cal was. Cal saw no reason why he should have to step in, an AI did it, and an AI could keep doing it. He was programmed otherwise.
Ailed it.
I meant nailed it.