The AI Debate

With technology such as Siri and miniature unmanned areal vehicles with self-adjusting capabilities on the rise, a fairly difficult question is becoming more and more prevalent. While all of these programs are undoubtedly smart and they do what they where meant to do well, but do they count as AI? For that matter, what would be true AI?

TED is trying to answer this, by giving a challenge to engineers worldwide. To build and program a robot capable of delivering a TED talk. This project is still in it's infancy, and TED is still using polls to set the rules for what constitutes, in the public's mind, as AI. After all, you can always program something to give  pre-written speech, but that wouldn't be considered AI. So just giving a speech and walking off stage, in my mind at least, does't cut it.

What would be cool is to program a robot to preform in a debate. Instead of regurgitating information, the program would have to adapt and counter an actual, live human being in a verbal spar. It doesn't have to win, even humans have to loose debates, but it should at least put up enough adaptability to be an actual threat to it's opponent's point of view.

But even that has limits. That AI would be good for it's intended purpose, but what then? You couldn't stick the robot in, say, a rescue mission. That's not what it's built for. So, what are we supposed to do?

Well, the smartest and most complex thing we humans know about is our own brain. If we where to scan our brains, every minute detail, every neuron and synapse, and where to translate that into binary, and run THAT as a program, then that, in my opinion, would be as complex as we could conceivably make AI.

The perils of being an absolutionist.

People generally think in very black-and-white terms, even when they try not to. I catch myself doing it all the time. That's a tree and thats a dog.  If I get shot in the head I die. Just looking around, you'd be surprised what you take for granted. Most of us think that way because it's easier to solve complex problems when you're not worrying about the littler stuff. That's just evolution. But it's fun to ponder these thing once in a while.

For example, when does someone die? When they are declared dead by a doctor? When their heart stops? When their brain stops functioning correctly? When they stop breathing? Or somewhere in between all these points and more?

In chemistry, this sort of thing used to bother me all the time when you're measuring something. Ideally, all our measurements would contain the same amount of representative particles, ad guessing or error. But we are human, after all, and even if we were to measure out everything drop by drop, there would still be a difference between drops because of the smallness of water molecules. Of course, it is a consolation that any error would be so minute that it wouldn't matter to our perception, but it still bugs me like an itch at the back of my mind.

Here's another one for you. Are you really a human being? Merryman-Webster defines it as: "a person". The Oxford dictionary is a little more in depth.

"A man, woman, or child of the species Homo sapiens, distinguished from other animals by superior mental development, power of articulate speech, and upright stance."

Of course, even this leaves loopholes. What about someone who is comatose? Are they not people too? Or what the other way around? If we were to encounter another sentiment alien race in the future who met all the biological criteria and even called themselves people, the what are they? And besides, everyone is genetically different in some way. According to Darwin, we will eventually produce children with enough genetic diversity to escape the definition of human, but exactly when will that be?

The details are endless. If you look around, partiality is everywhere. It's only a matter of seeing through the illusion.

A Source of Personal Pride

Ah, Bill Waterson is one of my favorite cartoonists.

Mr. Card, you have a new fan.

Recently, I've been reading Orson Scott Card's first Ender's Game book, and it's one of the best books I've ever read. Not because it's an action-packed adventure book or a fun paperback that will keep you happy for a few hours, but because it's so thought provoking. And I don't mean to sound cheesy when I say that. It's one of those books that allows you to pull your head out of your ass for a bit and look around to see what the world really looks like for a change.

And I'm only a third of the way through the first book, for the love of god. Funniest thing, though, it's written from the point of view of children. Intelligent children who are so dammed clever I'm surprised that in the book there's not more of a fuss made about them (probably has something to do with a basically totalitarian global government), but children non the less. And I suppose that the frankness of children mixed with the maturity of adults brought on by their astute mentalities is what makes this novel's philosophy so compelling.

I haven't read the whole book yet, so I don't know the end moral, but whatever it is, I look forward to the entirety of the series.

My heart almost stood still...

I found this, read it, and it's amazing. Hellen Keller was both blind and deaf when she wrote this letter. She "heard" a song through feeling the vibrations on the stereo, and wrote this beautiful letter of thanks. You can find more here.

93 Seminole Avenue,

Forest Hills, L. I.,

February 2, 1924.

The New York Symphony Orchestra,New York City.
Dear Friends:
I have the joy of being able to tell you that, though deaf and blind, I spent a glorious hour last night listening over the radio to Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony." I do not mean to say that I "heard" the music in the sense that other people heard it; and I do not know whether I can make you understand how it was possible for me to derive pleasure from the symphony. It was a great surprise to myself. I had been reading in my magazine for the blind of the happiness that the radio was bringing to the sightless everywhere. I was delighted to know that the blind had gained a new source of enjoyment; but I did not dream that I could have any part in their joy. Last night, when the family was listening to your wonderful rendering of the immortal symphony someone suggested that I put my hand on the receiver and see if I could get any of the vibrations. He unscrewed the cap, and I lightly touched the sensitive diaphragm. What was my amazement to discover that I could feel, not only the vibrations, but also the impassioned rhythm, the throb and the urge of the music! The intertwined and intermingling vibrations from different instruments enchanted me. I could actually distinguish the cornets, the roll of the drums, deep-toned violas and violins singing in exquisite unison. How the lovely speech of the violins flowed and plowed over the deepest tones of the other instruments! When the human voice leaped up trilling from the surge of harmony, I recognized them instantly as voices. I felt the chorus grow more exultant, more ecstatic, upcurving swift and flame-like, until my heart almost stood still. The women's voices seemed an embodiment of all the angelic voices rushing in a harmonious flood of beautiful and inspiring sound. The great chorus throbbed against my fingers with poignant pause and flow. Then all the instruments and voices together burst forth—an ocean of heavenly vibration—and died away like winds when the atom is spent, ending in a delicate shower of sweet notes.
Of course, this was not "hearing" but I do know that the tones and harmonies conveyed to me moods of great beauty and majesty. I also sensed, or thought I did, the tender sounds of nature that sing into my hand—swaying reeds and winds and the murmur of streams. I have never been so enraptured before by a multitude of tone-vibrations.
As I listened, with darkness and melody, shadow and sound filling all the room, I could not help remembering that the great composer who poured forth such a flood of sweetness into the world was deaf like myself. I marvelled at the power of his quenchless spirit by which out of his pain he wrought such joy for others—and there I sat, feeling with my hand the magnificent symphony which broke like a sea upon the silent shores of his soul and mine.
Let me thank you warmly for all the delight which your beautiful music has brought to my household and to me. I want also to thank Station WEAF for the joy they are broadcasting in the world.
With kindest regards and best wishes, I am,
Sincerely yours, 

HELEN KELLER