johnmaconline

Think of a moment you were proud of yourself.

I did my first triathlon in my mid-40’s. It was a short (800m swim, 10-ish mile bike, 5k run) XTERRA race. This distance is child’s play in the triathlon world. It’s a wednesday night training session. XTERRA races are off-road, so in addition to swimming, the bike leg is mountain biking, and the run leg is trail running — up and down the Bear Creek Mountain ski resort. 

I wasn’t a swimmer. Prior to this race, I had practiced for about four weeks, in a nice, clean, and clear pool. And I sucked (still do). But 800m. Come on, anybody can finish 800m.

For the race, we waded into a retention pond to begin the two laps around. Here’s what my nice, clean, and clear pool didn’t have and couldn’t prepare me for: weeds; murk; mud; and the elbows, feet, and assess of a couple hundred other swimmers all vying for the same piece of marine real estate.

I melted down 100m into the race. A panic attack as I’ve never before, or since, experienced. My brain froze, and then so did my limbs. I just pulled up and tread water. It was all I could do. I was toast less than 2 minutes into the race. 

But once nobody else was around, I calmed my mind and willed myself to continue. I was the last one out of the water. Not the last male or the last of my age group, or even the last adult. The very last human. 

Then I hopped on my mountain bike and kicked ass the rest of the way. 

I was proud of myself. Not for the result but for how I’d gotten there — the journey. What I overcame mentally, emotionally, and physically. I was proud that I had risen to the challenge. 

There’s something to a challenge. Something uniquely human. Something requiring at least the illusion of free will because a challenge presents a choice, or choices. You choose how you will handle that challenge. There are no objectively right or wrong choices or outcomes.

Would an AI ever think to itself, “I’m proud.”

AI will most definitely be more intelligent than any human.

Here’s what ChatGPT says about intelligence versus smart:

“Intelligence,” is a broad and complex concept. It can refer to a range of mental abilities, including problem-solving, critical thinking, logical reasoning, and abstract thinking. Intelligence is often associated with academic achievement, IQ scores, and cognitive abilities.

“Smart” usually refers to quick thinking, cleverness, or practical knowledge. It often implies the ability to think on one’s feet, come up with creative solutions to problems, or acquire practical skills that are useful in everyday life.

When I was in high school, we knew who the intelligent kids were. They aced the tests, remembered the formulas, and were the ones we asked to help us understand the homework. 

Although by no means at the top of the heap, I was pretty intelligent and did well in high school without much effort. 

College, though, separated the intelligent kids from the smart ones, and I learned right away that I wasn’t very smart. After my third semester, I barely scratched it into my major (EE) and then barely hung on for the rest of the ride. The high watermark for my cumulative grade point average was 2.99. I never cracked a 3.0. 

I learned that the smart kids weren’t just intelligent. They also had a genuine curiosity about their line of study. 

Luckily, I’ve gotten smarter. Following my various curiosities has made me smarter.  

Would AI ever think to itself, “I’m curious.”

Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. 

I worked on the road crew for my local township for two summers while in college. I learned a lot of skills during those two summers — driving a 12-speed dump truck, laying asphalt, operating all kinds of machinery, and making road signs. These were fun and interesting skills to learn, but I haven’t used most of them since. 

I did, however, gain a bunch of wisdom that I apply every day — maintain your machines, find a rhythm of work and rest, the benefit of shooting the crap together, and your job doesn’t have to be your purpose in life. 

But the big one was, “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

“You can claim ‘not my job,’ but should you?”
“You can lean on your shovel while others work, but should you?”
“You can cut corners, but should you?”

ChatGPT defines wisdom as follows:

Wisdom is a combination of knowledge, experience, and good judgment. It is the ability to make sound decisions and give advice based on a deep understanding of the world and people. A wise person is someone who has gained insight and understanding through experience and reflection, and can apply that knowledge to navigate difficult situations, solve problems, and help others.

ChatGPT

No doubt AI will acquire the knowledge and skills to do just about anything we can do and do it better. 

But would an AI ever think to itself, “I can, but should I?”

What gives you purpose?

I hope that’s a complex and nuanced topic, but you likely find purpose in one or more of the following aspects of your life:

• work or contribution
• family, friends, connection or service to others
• philosophy or religion

I also suspect that you’ve struggled at times in your life with purpose. I’m going through it a bit right now.

As we slog through life transitions, we sometimes feel like we’ve lost our purpose. If we work at it, and if we’re lucky, we find some new purpose. 

This struggle is uniquely human. It follows from our (illusion of) free will. We can choose. We can choose our work, what we spend time on, who interact with, and how we see the world. 

Would an AI ever struggle with its purpose?

AI is coming for your work. 

Much of our work is utility. The things we do to keep life on this planet moving forward. 

Work is tilling the ground, fixing the roof, and hauling goods. It’s also filing taxes, developing software, and diagnosing diseases. And it’s also defending in court, proposing a merger of companies, and mental health counseling. 

Since the dawn of our species, we’ve found purpose in our work. We take pride in our utility. Some have even defined themselves as humans by the work they did. 

We choose our work (if we have free will and the ability to choose) based on preferences, worldviews, and circumstances. You may love your work, or you may hate it. Regardless we understand our work’s importance, or at least necessity in our life.

But let’s face it; AI can do just about anything you or I can do. Maybe not today or in our lifetimes, but it’s coming. Eventually, anything we do that provides utility, AI will probably do. 

We might be in for a reckoning when it comes to work as we know it today. 

But would an AI ever think to itself, “I’d like to help this other AI.”

I love the discussion about whether art is creation or discovery.

Artists use both mechanisms to describe their process, how a particular piece came together, or how the arc of a character’s story played out. They’ll use words like find, seek, imagination, journey, intuition, inspiration, and experiment. 

What do you think?

Have you ever been listening to a song for the first time, yet you somehow knew the next lyric, note, or sound? It just made sense.

Have you ever been reading a novel and intuitively knew what a character said next? Of course, she would say that.

We can sometimes attribute that intuition to our shared experiences in the world — learned experiences. We’ve seen similar people, heard similar patterns, and observed similar actions. We know how this goes because we’ve seen it before. The artist plays along.

But not always. Sometimes we’re surprised. 

AI is already creating art. ChatGPT writes (and codes), DALL-E creates images, Imagen creates video, and Jukebox generates music. You’ve already read, seen, and heard creations from these platforms. 

Because AI can learn anything that we can from history. Shared experiences, discovery, and even novel applications of interconnection are all learned. 

Although art is hard to define, we know it comes together through both creation and discovery. We also know art has intention. It has a voice and point of view.

Would an AI ever think to itself, “I have something to say.”

Will AI machines think freely?

Well, do humans think freely?

If someone asks you to describe a chair, how would you do it? You and I might describe it differently, but we’d know what each was talking about. 

AI can also describe a chair, and it does a great job. Here is the beginning of how Google’s Bard describes a chair:

“A chair is a type of furniture with a raised surface supported by one or more legs, typically used to seat a single person.”

Google Bard

(Then it goes on to describe different types of chairs, uses, materials, settings, etc.)

But would AI know a chair if it saw one? 

You and I would even if the chair wasn’t typical. We might come across a ledge, a tree stump, or a car bumper shaped and sized just right for us to park our butts on. A chair, if not in the traditional sense.

Because we understand “chairness.” 

If we want to sit, we scan all of the objects and formations around us, looking for something to serve as a chair, if not a specific-built chair. If we don’t see a human-made chair, we think about what we could use as chair. Our thoughts are guided by our intention.

If an AI wanted to sit, could it recognize chairness in the objects and formations around it? Could it think about what could be used as a chair?

Would an AI ever think to itself, “I’d really like to sit down.”

Your dishwasher doesn’t know how to wash dishes.

Even if you have a smart dishwasher, it still knows nothing about washing dishes. All your dishwasher knows how to do is blast heated water and soap around the inside of its box and then drain it at all out at the end. 

We, the humans, have found that if we design a specific type of blasting water pattern, combine the water with a special chemical compound, and then (and this is so critical) arrange the dishes inside that box in just the right way, the “dishwasher” will wash our dishes. 

Now we make smart dishwashers that connect to the cloud for pseudo-autonomy and have some rudimentary sensing capabilities. Maybe, just maybe, if the human still does the things that the human needs to do, you’ll get more thoroughly clean dishes with less energy, water, etc. 

Or not.

You have found still-dirty dishes in your dishwasher a million times. In fact, your dishwasher doesn’t even know what a dish is. You could put anything in its box. 

Because your dishwasher still doesn’t know how to wash dishes. 

In theory, with AI, a future exists where your dishwasher does know how to wash your dishes. You just hand your dirty dishes to it, and sometime later, they all get clean. Every time. No more reliance on you to do your job correctly.

True dishwasher autonomy. 

But the question remains:

Would your dishwasher ever decide that it just doesn’t want to?

Does or will AI have free will?

Your level of fear about AI likely corresponds with your belief in free will.  

I don’t mean the fear of AI supplanting humans in jobs, or creating deep fakes, or being used to manipulate and influence us. Those are child’s play (and absolutely true). 

I mean the fear that AI becomes cognizant and sentient — a free-thinking, new species of life. 

Does the drone take off because it has learned through training data and experience that now is the right time? Or does it take off because it wants to fly?

Does the social media platform feed you what you want to see because it has learned what keeps you engaged (or some other objective)? Or does it show you what it wants you to see?

Does the health detection system give you a diagnosis because it has learned that your symptoms, blood markers, genetics, and epigenetics indicate a particular condition? Or does it give you a diagnosis because it cares about you?

The outcomes are the same, but the intentions are completely different. That is the subtle yet significant difference. 

With AI, as is true with humans, intention matters.