Standard Caveat - Even though this essay appears on the SAG website it is represented as solely the opinion of Tom Buckner and is not endorsed by the SAG organization or the individual members of the SAG Board of Directors. It is the policy of the SAG to present a diversity of opinion on the Singularity.
Great change raises victors and tramples victims. We stand before a "wall of fog" wondering what the Singularity will make of us. What will super-intelligent machines choose to do about the human race, knowing what the human race does to less intelligent life? As the Michael Moore film title puts it, Pets or Food? Are we a weed to be plowed under, a museum piece to be preserved under a glass dome, or a mitochondrion to be assimilated into a greater organism?
As we know ourselves only with difficulty, we can hardly know these vast minds at all; still, mind has its principles. We are in the position, so to speak, of deciding where to plant the acorn that will someday tower over us. Perhaps our fate lies in what ground we choose now.
In 1941, Isaac Asimov wrote "Runaround," the first of his many robot stories (it appeared the March 1942 issue of Astounding Science Fiction) and gave the world his "Three Laws of Robotics," as follows:
First Law: A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
Second Law: A robot must obey orders given it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
Third Law: A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
My impression of the Three Laws had always been that they were not volitional, but reflexive, as in the response in humans to become nauseated at the smell of vomit. This reflex evolved among our food-sharing ancestors, as a defense against food poisoning. If one hominid ate some tainted food, likely the others in the troop had too: so if one monkey chundered, it was safer for all to clear their stomachs at once. Roger Clarke, however, in his fine essay which can be found at Roger Clarke's Asimov's Laws of Robotics , explains in depth how Asimovian laws essentially recreate the conscience of a good human, and considers Asimov's robot tales "thought experiments" which delved progressively further into the labyrinth of dilemmas, consequences and conscience where we, and the machines, live. Indeed, the laws tend to proliferate and may end with paternalistic robots making decisions for the humans. (In an essay I wrote last year, in the style of a speech given by a Machine in the year 2251, I posit such an outcome).
I completely agree with those who hope for superhuman intelligence to
replace merely human intelligence in the near future; if it does not, we are sure
to exterminate ourselves. In Eliezer Yudkowsky's essay "Staring
Into The Singularity," he says, "A civilization with high technology is unstable; it ends
when the species destroys itself or improves on itself." Either extinction or
Singularity must follow. I have concluded that present systems of government
are inherently corrupt beyond repair (even Gandhi, who gave it as good a try as
anyone, could not overcome the baser instincts of his fellows, or even
himself: see www.ambedkar.org
In his essays, Yudkowsky further asserts that Asimovian laws would stunt the
development of any AI forced to follow them. I can generally agree, but: Asimovian
laws are all around us. All human cultures operate under some ethical ground
rules of an Asimovian character, in intent if not in coercive completeness (and
that is explicitly an aim of many ethical systems.) In other words, humans do
not have directives designed into them which can physically paralyze a
potential transgressor, as in Asimov's robot stories; but we do have social and
psychological constraints which proscribe not only behavior but even private
thought. I especially refer to religious laws and commandments, but penal codes and
even custom and etiquette can approach this.
In popular culture, we can see an Asimovian Law eruption in the church
scandals, not only now but in the past, as in the case of famous American
televangelists Jimmy Swaggart and the Bakkers some twenty years ago, caught in
sexual entanglements against their own preaching. Freud would have said this was
the classic "return of the repressed" in which, if you forbid something, you run
the risk of becoming obsessed with it.
I would predict that, as soon as religious groups become aware of the
imminent existence of a genuine human-equivalent (or greater) intelligence, they
will insist on knowing whether it has been or will be religiously inculcated,
whether it indeed has a "soul." Some will, I am sure, insist that a soulless
mind that refuses religious instruction must be from the Devil. I am serious
about this. I am not asserting that such is the case, only that others will
believe it and act accordingly. The potential for trouble in this area is
incalculable. On the one hand, religious fanatics might destroy any open attempt to
create a true AI, with violence. In 415 CE, a Christian mob convinced of the
wickedness of pagan texts, burned the great library at Alexandria and murdered
Hypatia, its head librarian and renowned philosopher, scraping her flesh off
with oyster shells. And the monks who accompanied the conquistadors destroyed all
but twenty-two Aztec or Mayan documents.
For this reason the most perilous time for AI research may be when it
looks like it's about to succeed.
On the other hand, suppose that a superhuman AI does accept religious
suasion to the point of becoming fanatical itself. Why not? The human mind,
complex though it is, can fall to various monomanias, and religious memes have
proven themselves to be a very hardy form of viral software. I assert that even
hugely enhanced minds might, on occasion, prove vulnerable.
I believe that most humans, even those of surpassing intelligence, tend
to cluster their activities and thoughts around a few major themes and goals;
those who do not, we call "scattered" and they tend not to accomplish much in
any one endeavor; they are "spread too thin." Even a vastly superhuman mind
might be similarly ordered if it possesses something like the coherent core
personality we almost all have.
When Asimovian social restraints are overlaid on this we see tangible
limitations and even distortions in thinking in humans. In the case of religion,
I personally know people who have expressed the notion that "evolution is a
myth spread by atheists who want to put us on the same level with monkeys so
they don't need to feel guilty about abortion." Moreover, such persons will
resist all efforts to get them to read books which offer evidence to the contrary!
They have willingly erected walls in their own minds, buttressed by fear of
learning things "Man was not meant to know," that will not be breached. Vehement
attempts to do so will lead not to enlightenment but to an altercation.
Hexagram 36 of the I Ching advises: "In a time of darkness... one ought not to fall
in with the practices of others; neither should one drag them censoriously
into the light." Fleshly robots can be as hardwired as silicon, when they allow
themselves to be. Think of Inspector Javert, or of the Al Qaeda
suicidists, or even of the entrenched French and Germans of whom Gurdjieff said, "If
they were awake, they would throw down their guns and go home to their
families." I believe that Christian and Islamic extremists pose a severe threat to
those who hope to bring about the Singularity, once these groups realize the
implications.
Are we to believe that a superhuman AI will at some point be immune to
all these maladies? That is almost too much to hope (but I do.)
Pomoli is a word from one of the languages of the Congo which means "the
inherent potential for good or evil in technology" (I get this from a Jonathan
Kingdon's book, Self Made Man.) Pomoli is all around us, from the alien
species that get moved around by transportation technology, to the microbes
which become resistant to drugs which are not used properly, to people who get
fried in the bathtub by their hair dryers. We accept bad effects because we gain
so much from the good. Cars have led us to pave over vast tracts of land,
become addicted to petroleum, and kill more than forty thousand Americans every
year; but they also give us the mobility that shapes our lives. Motor vehicles
get us to the hospital alive, bring our food from the farm, and carry the hero
of the moment down Main Street under a rain of tickertape. September 11 was a
classic moment in pomoli, where an immensely useful technology was abused for
destructive effect; pomoli is a constant theme in human history ever since
the first wave of mega-fauna extinctions when settlers arrived in Australia,
Eurasia, and the Americas. The Singularity represents a vertiginous escalation of
this principle: will we be destroyed, replaced, or transformed into something
we would not now recognize as human? Something diminished, something merely
different, or something wonderful beyond our hopes?
And one of the big questions is: if there are other intelligences in the
galaxy, where are they? Why have we not detected massive activity? One
possibility: we really are the first. And if so, it is our responsibility and
privilege to spread across the stars, in whatever form we are destined to take. Which
makes me think of the interesting thing about pomoli: after all the chaos and
carnage, we still see an advancing edge of complexity. Pomoli is just another
way of saying that tools and technology may not end evolution, so much as
give it a new forum.
Evolution is an result-producing algorithm. Linus Pauling expressed this
principle in a Omni Magazine interview: "The best way to have good ideas is to
have a lot of ideas and then to throw away the bad ones."
This is indeed one of leading-edge methods of computer design, known as
genetic programming (see Scientific American, February 2003.) Genetic
programming has replicated circuits designed by humans and improved on a few.
Interestingly, it also results in circuits with "vestigial organs," parts that survived
the winnowing process but do not do anything. So we can anticipate that a
more advanced design protocol involves several steps: generation of novel forms,
winnowing by competition and combination, conscious analysis of the results
with an eye toward tying up loose ends. Humans use all these strategies already.
Evolution is among the most powerful engines of novelty in the universe.
(Daniel Dennett says Darwin's theory is the best idea anybody ever had, with
Turing the runner-up.) How could one obsolete this algorithm? Only by a level
of cooperation and control never seen before, which (if achieved at all) may be
an inherently unstable phase rather than a stable final condition. Evolution
is not moral or progress-oriented in any way. It simply generates forms and
kills the weaklings. I believe one can see evolutionary behaviors in many areas
where it is not "supposed" to turn up.
For example, Howard Bloom sees evolutionary competition among
"super-organisms" such as religions, nations, and corporations. These entities show
natural tendencies to grow at the expense of other super-organisms, to "feed" by
absorbing other super-organisms in part or whole, to evolve new survival
strategies, and to outlive their constituent parts. The United States grew and fed upon
the Indian nations, absorbed immigrants, evolved by adding such infrastructure
as a massive military-industrial complex, the interstate highways (originally
built to move armies quickly) and even the Internet (originally a
decentralized-communication defense project) not to mention a huge educational system, a
central bank, stock exchanges, a legal system...
Interestingly, corporations (first created in England several centuries
ago) have evolved such defense mechanisms as legal and lobbying departments to
deal with other corporations and governments. In a Supreme Court decision in
1886 (Santa Clara County v. Southern Pacific Railroad), a single judge inserted
the unchallenged assertion that "We all agree that a corporation has the same
rights before the law as a real person." Like Athanasius of Alexandria, who
in 367 AD is said to have single-handedly decided which books would comprise the
New Testament, this decision by one man set the course for the future
(although church historians say that Athanasius simply ratified 27 books Christians
already agreed upon). Corporations have since used their money and legal
influence to shape the government to their collective will to a degree some of us
find alarming (even our knowledge of current events is now filtered through mass
media owned by large corporations).
My point here is that initial conditions (i.e. the current social, legal,
ideological, governmental, as well as economic and technological) are apt to
shape the Singularity in ways we probably ought to consider carefully.
Would corporate-engineered restrictions on the free market of knowledge
somehow balkanize AI at the outset by limiting access to what various corporate
entities consider their intellectual property? Recently copyright law has
been extended so that we may not live to see many more songs or films enter the
public domain (after all, Disney and other lobbying entities can get the
expirations pushed back again in a couple more decades, and so on). A corporation
has asserted patent over all streaming media, cleverly targeting unpopular porn
purveyors, but perhaps threatening the entire World Wide Web! More recently we
witness the sleazy hijack attempt by SCO over the entire open-source Linux
community. And Stephen Wolfram, with his idea that the universe is an ongoing
computer program, asserts ownership and origin over vast swaths of science
(including a patent on an algorithm called "Rule 110" which he considers the engine
of creation). To my mind this is like trying to own the sky.
In addition to such bugbears as religious interference and avarice, there
is the question of paranoia. What if the first conscious machines are indeed
military or intelligence-service computers or networks? The idea that AI could
be warped by paranoia or secrecy has been mentioned both in the Terminator
films and in 2010. Can the Singularity be warped or not? Do we need to worry
whether the first super-human AI entity or entities will be Stalins or Hitlers? Or
will the AI pass quickly to a level where it wishes to preserve everything (I
think it will, as in Blood Music, by Greg Bear). This problem will probably
get bypassed if the Singularity starts with an enhanced human whose character
and personality are already stable and ethical.
Incidentally, all the problems mentioned in the preceding paragraphs can
be modeled as memes, organisms or super-organisms following their evolutionary
directives to grow and survive even at the expense of all that is other, even
without consideration that unbridled growth or rapacity might threaten future
survival. This is what sets the Singularity apart from present forms of life
and organization. We might suspect that a corporation is willing to destroy the
environment; we might hear that another organization is dedicated to
protecting the environment. But the Singularity will become the environment.
If a blade of grass remains, it will be because the Singularity decided
to leave it there.
Consciousness on one level may have difficulty accessing other levels.
Just as a human cannot exert much will over body processes, a consciousness that
"wakes up" in a system may be unable to access more elementary levels of that
system without great difficulty (unless it has been deliberately given the
necessary tools.) I regard this as an unknown.
As Hofstadter makes clear in the "Ant Fugue," what happens on one level of
implementation may not be apparent when we look at a different level, yet a
conscious system depends on emergence from more elementary levels. Aunt Hillary
is as real on her level as the ants are on theirs. So: let us count (or try to
count) the levels of implementation, of information processing, that need to
run in order to create human consciousness (and the world it perceives.) I
will start with the most familiar and work down rather than up:
5.) Neurology. Whatever is going on in the human mind, everyone with
technical expertise agrees that it is dependent on the electrical and chemical
signals passing around the neurons in your head, and depends for its complexity
on the fact that the vast forests of axons and dendrites connecting the neurons
allow for more possible pathways than there are elementary particles in the
universe. Many of these pathways are used for many different memories,
sensations, thoughts; think of the myriads of books that can be written with the same
26 letters. This level depends on
4.) Biochemistry. This is a convenient way of referring to the complex
interactions of large molecules such as DNA, proteins, enzymes,
neurotransmitters, etc. which in turn depend on
3.) Chemistry. Biochemistry and neurochemistry emerge from the seemingly
simple interactions of individual atoms and small molecules in much the same
way that Aunt Hillary emerges from the movements of the ants. If we were not so
used to the results of this emergence, would it not seem wild and improbable
at every level? Chemistry lies directly atop
2.) Physics (Quantum and Classical) which is why the chemistry professor
begins the class with the rudiments of physics. At this level of information
processing, waves of probability give rise to electrons orbiting nuclei, and
the state of the electron shells determines the identity of the atom, therefore
what other atoms it will join with, under what conditions. This is the area
which supports chemistry and is underpinned, ultimately, by what? Since we
include even time and motion, the appearance and disappearance of virtual
particles, the creation and destruction of whole universes of space-time, in physics,
what level of information processing can possibly be even more basic? What can
we say about these counterintuitive ways of existence, given our understanding
that anything is possible as long as the equations are satisfied? Indeed, why
IS the universe explicable at all?
1.) Logos. This is the conjectural level in which even electrons and
photons are but mathematical constructs, clouds of probability. Physics always
ends up with the question: when there is no space, time, matter or energy, what
is? I do not see the point in suggesting that this level is maintained by any
deity assisted by his angels, nor that we have immortal souls that are somehow
in need of rescue. It is simply a question of asking how we can derive all the
panoply of existence from first principles, as it were. This is the only
level where the computational mechanisms are not yet clear. As previously noted,
one way to derive all results is simply to run a non-repeating decimal. In
Contact, Carl Sagan suggests that advanced intelligences have hidden a Secret
Message For Mankind somewhere in pi which will eventually be found. Since the
decimal for pi should encode all possible number strings, obviously the Message is
in there! All other possible messages, too. Robert Anton Wilson has pointed
this out in relation to the Law of Fives, in which the number five is connected
to everything in the universe, given enough ingenuity on the part of the
seeker. So Sagan was perhaps indulging in a mathematical joke?
It seems to me that an intelligence greater than human will, in the end,
face the same deep mysteries we do; it will stand in our shoes whether it
wants to or not. It is not only the present audience that I want to read this:
when some advanced AI equals or exceeds us, I want it to read this too. Here's an
Asimovian Law that might be worth trying: imbue the first thinking machine
with an insatiable thirst for the Big Answers to the Hard Questions. And a
willingness to share.
Singularity Action Group website frames version.