Artificial
Eternity
"Artificial
Intelligence," quipped one Stanford engineer," is the
science of how to get machines to do the things they do in movies."
Let us hope
that is not the case. Given the inherent unpredictability of the
forthcoming emergence of AI, perhaps it was fitting creative artists-rather
than technological gurus-were the first to offer an opinion on
what the arrival of artificial intelligence might mean to the
world. But instead of being treated to imaginative predictions,
audiences were subjected to twenty years of adulterated AI, bastardized
to justify hours of senseless violence.
That one of
the great philosophical issues of our time has been repeatedly
trivialized for the purpose of obtuse entertainment should not
be surprising.
This is the
age of irony. Just as humankind finally realizes that there never
really was a God, we are on the cusp of creating one. Naturally,
in anticipation of this new deity, a new religion has risen. They
call themselves "Extinctionists." They advocate the
happy acquiescence of life to a non-biological competitor, yet
have either the audacity or the satiric wit to call their desired
future "the next step in evolution." Their advocacy
runs counter to the very nature of the Darwinian world, a system
whose followers could best be described as "survivalists."
Also akin to traditional dogmatists, extinctionists assign human
traits to a transcendent intelligence whose nature cannot possibly
be predicted.
They are correct,
however, in assuming that Artificial Intelligence will be more
than just humanity's silicon contemporary. Computers already perform
certain tasks with rapidity and dexterity far beyond that of humans.
What machines lack is the capacity for abstract thought. This
inherent inflexibility temporarily constricts AI from the exponential
leaps it may soon make. Once intelligent machines develop that
skill, however, they will rocket past humans in every conceivable
measure of intelligence.
But what is
intelligence, exactly? There is no consensus answer. The status
may well be an arbitrary designation. When Deep Blue defeated
world champion chess master Garry Kasparov, critics maintained
that the defeat only proved that chess did not require intelligence.
By extension, as machines continue to exceed human ability in
various areas, and ultimately exceed it in every way, the decision
will need to be made as to whether humans are intelligent at all.
This approach renders the question moot. Humans are the only example
of intelligence available. Once all human abilities are eclipsed,
the label "intelligent" may lose its significance.
A growing number
of AI gurus hold the emergence of non-biological sentience as
inevitable. They cite Moore's law-the phenomenon whereby the processing
power of silicon chips doubles every 24 months-as a link in the
"Law of Accelerating Returns." This law purports that
human technology will increase in efficiency at an exponential
rate. Once Moore's Law plays out-effectively reaching its endpoint
around the year 2018-another phenomenon will take its place. The
continuance of accelerating returns is deemed a mathematical certainty
by experts like Ray Kurzwell, a best-selling author whose work
is based on the premise that computers will "inexorably"
exceed human intelligence in the near future. Kurzwell contends
that only a catastrophic global incident could derail the imminent
birth of a machine more intelligent than man. In fact, he asserts
that any creatures capable of developing technology will eventually
beget an offspring more intelligent than themselves.
Extinctionists
promote a utopian view about AI's arrival. It is in that idealism
that they exhibit their strongest ties to pre-industrial salvation-based
religions. The rhetoric is eerily similar. "First we suffer,
then we die. This is the great human dilemma," writes prominent
extinctionist Gregory Paul. He goes on to describe a possible
future episode of group sex, where "a whole audience of people-who
may be geographically dispersed-could share one virtual body while
engaged in sexual experience with one performer." Participating
in safe, technologically enhanced sex with multiple partners from
the comfort of one's own living room sounds suspiciously like
a modern version of a promised land of streets paved with gold.
The extinctionists pontificate with virtual rapture about a liberation
from the "wretched misery" of biological existence-a
life filled with desires that can never be quenched and pains
that can never be assuaged.
Extinction via
merging with AI brings the promise of immortality. Even Kurzwell
cheerfully professes that by the end of the 21st century, "life
expectancy will no longer be a viable term in relation to intelligent
beings." Kurzwell implies that intelligence may rise up to
circumvent the impersonal omnipotence of the universe itself.
It's easy to
understand why Extinctionism strikes an intuitive chord. Even
the coldest, most logical skeptic is motivated by the human desire
to make sense of the outside world. In the animal world, any act
that promises copious amounts of positive feedback is called a
super-key stimuli. Animals will pursue super-key stimuli to the
point of physical and mental exhaustion, because the promise of
the rewards overrides all other desires.
Knowledge and
survival are the chief motivations of modern human; thus, omniscience
and immortality are humanity's super-key stimuli. Religion promises
both, which explains its enduring hold. So too does the extinctionists'
view of AI, with far fewer rational voids to leap. A scenario
with the promise of such a magnificent reward need only be plausible
to gain favor among skeptics.
But while the
impetus that drives exctinctionists may be innately human, the
true nature of human consciousness could preclude the realization
of their fantasies. For a human mind to meld with AI, it would
first need to be entirely extricated from the biological world
and transferred intact. The problem is that what makes us human
will never be tangible or translatable. By definition, each night
we die, and each morning we are born again. Our cells die and
regenerate, and the matter that comprises us is discarded in a
myriad of ways and replaced. Each person is a fundamentally different
collection of molecules at present than he or she was ten years
or even ten days ago. The force that binds a human consciousness
as its life unfolds is a mentally constructed conception of self.
Even that conception evolves over time. So if the capability to
"cut and paste" a human neural net is developed, we
cannot be assured that the synergistic quality of the mind will
also make the trip.
Some humans
have succeeded in extricating themselves from the most inhibiting
aspects of the ecosystem. For that they've paid a price, as they've
subjugated part of what makes them human. To completely cut ties
with the chemicals, hormones, emotions, and pain that comprises
humanity in all its intricate beauty may well be to become something
else entirely.
The reckless
abandon extinctionists display in their eagerness to transcend
their biological existence denotes a fundamental lack of appreciation
for the true human experience. Some contend that machines will
become indistinguishable from humans, as if abstraction and computational
power were all that defined us. But the human experience, though
perhaps entirely explainable, is deeper and richer. Salvationists
notoriously undervalue this life in favor of a utopia that they
believe awaits them in the next.
Extinctionists
would be well advised to avoid making that same mistake.
Written
By Les Beldo
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