AI's greasy little voice

Click here to watch a short video with Katherine Rundell, who writes amazing books for children and young (and older) adults. 

 

The grandchild reads during breakfast, when sitting down with a snack after a long day at school, before and after dinner, before bedtime, in bed and basically whenever possible. Several times a week, the grandchild reads to me over social media, we then discuss the books. Currently it's Harry Potter of which I know shamefully little, book four, halfway through. The grandchild's mother, my daughter, would never leave the house without a book, never ever. One of my most vivid parenting memories is the exact moment she stopped moving her lips while reading, when I watched her, book in hand, her body slipping down along the wall until she sat on the floor, totally absoberd. The book was James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl.

In hindsight, I retired at the right time - three years ago now. Not that it felt like the wrong time, not ever. But as my work mostly involved translating and editing science manuscripts, the arrival of AI translation and editing apps meant that almost all study groups and researchers started to use them, happy to be able to cut costs and time. It took all involved maybe six months to realise that the software was just a tool and not always up to the task. Which made my job harder and more time consuming because editing AI generated stuff most of the time meant I had to go all the way back to the source, i.e. the actual human author, to figure out what the heck they wanted to say. Not always, mind you, sometimes the software produces excellent, succinct texts. Anyway, it's all in the past and I understand that most science publishers, especially the big ones, now use their own AI software to detect AI generated texts which they then reject as not original work. Go figure.

I haven't wasted much time on AI but the recent apocalyptic warnings made me laugh. 

The performance of these systems involves computing power, training data and energy resources.

Software that fails to deliver the desired results or even causes damage is a not a superpower taking over the world, it is actually a faulty product, not a masterpiece. The big AI firms are producing malware on a massive scale and are attempting to shift the blame for their poor production standards onto others by warning of a fictional future apocalypse when in reality they are trying to force others to take action. 

But AI does pose a very real threat to the survival of humanity. Large language models are extremely inefficient, and their now ubiquitous use is exacerbating the climate crisis. Their land use is vast, their energy and water consumption is enormous. Add to that the mass theft of copyright-protected works feeding the software, the even more rapid spread of disinformation and the financial overextension, which is beyond my understanding but I figure people are now speculating on profits that are mathematically hardly possible, risking a global economic crisis. 

So there are plenty of good reasons to join forces globally to stand up to the tech giants. But none of them is a super-intelligent robot seeking to seize world domination.

 

democracy

Imagine we live in a country where millions of people live together, differing in many ways. They speak different languages, believe in different gods or in none at all, and live alone, as couples, in families or in shared accommodation. They argue about what is fair, how much tax is right,  . . .  how they want to love and die. Because these differences cannot be reduced to a common denominator, they have to reach agreement time and again: in families and workplaces, in market squares, in parliaments and courtrooms. Most of the time, the result is something that nobody quite wanted, but which as many people as possible can live with.

Imagine we live in a country where this diversity is not regarded as an unfortunate incident. Where people cannot simply impose their ideas of what is right – not even if they are in the majority. Where every person has dignity and rights that are particularly valuable precisely when others do not like the way someone lives, thinks or speaks. People are free to criticise their government, to join forces with others and to take legal action against the state before independent courts. Majorities can make decisions, but they cannot do as they please. And minorities remain protected, especially when the majority disapproves of them.

Imagine we live in a country where people are allowed to be different. Muslim, Christian, Jewish or atheist. Straight or queer. Cis or trans. Tradwife or feminist. With or without a family, with two passports, multiple languages and affiliations that don’t have to end at a national border. Progressive or conservative.  . . .  Nobody has to approve of all of that.  Acceptance does not mean having to adopt everyone else’s way of life, but rather granting others the same space that you claim for yourself – as long as your own freedom does not come at the expense of the same freedom and dignity of others.

Imagine we live in a country . . . (where) political opponents are not enemies – in a country that derives its own vision of harmonious coexistence not merely from what it is against. A country that does not look on with envy at the power of authoritarian slogans and believes that only hatred can stir people’s emotions. Freedom moves us. Justice moves us. Diversity brings joy. Solidarity inspires. And the experience of achieving something together, despite fundamental differences, instils pride.

Many things are going well, many badly, and some are unbearable. People face discrimination, opportunities are distributed unfairly, and institutions are failing. No liberal society has a guarantee of its continued existence; rather, it must protect and defend itself. But we live in a country where decisions must remain open to correction. And where everyone belongs – despite all our differences.  . . . The community we aspire to become has long been taking shape within the community we are: unfinished, contradictory, unjust, yet capable of change. What matters is that we continually re-establish what we have in common through collective action. 

 Olaf Zenker