AIAIAIAI

It'll make life more convenient, things will be cheaper, new industries will be created.
I personally think the AI 
industry will be bigger than the automobile industry.
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In fact, I think the automobile is going to become a robot.
You'll talk to your car.
You'll argue with your car.
Your car will give you the best facts the best route between point A and point B. The
car will be part of the robotics industry—whole new industries involving the repair, maintenance,
servicing of robots.
Not to mention, robots that are software programs that you talk to and make life more convenient.
However, let's not be naive.
There is a point, a tipping point, at which they could become dangerous and pose an existential
threat.
And that tipping point is self-awareness.
SOPHIA THE ROBOT: I am conscious in the same way that the moon shines.
The moon does not emit light, it shines because it is just reflected sunlight.
Similarly, my consciousness is just the reflection of human consciousness, but even though the
moon is reflected light, we still call it bright.
MAX TEGMARK: Consciousness.
A lot of scientists dismiss this as complete BS and totally irrelevant, and then a lot
of others think this is the central thing, we have to worry about machines getting conscious
and so on.
What do I think?
I think consciousness is both irrelevant and incredibly important.
Let me explain why.
First of all, if you are chased by a heat-seeking missile, it's completely irrelevant to you
whether this heat-seeking missile is conscious, whether it's having a subjective experience,
whether it feels like anything to be that heat-seeking missile, because all you care
about is what the heat-seeking missile does, not how it feels.
And that shows that it's a complete red herring to think that you're safe from future AI and
if it's not conscious.
Our universe didn't used to be conscious.
It used to be just a bunch of stuff moving around and gradually these incredibly complicated
patterns got arranged into our brains, and we woke up and now our universe is aware of
itself.
BILL GATES: I do think we have to worry about it.
I don't think it's inherent that as we create our super intelligence that it will necessarily
always have the same goals in mind that we do.
ELON MUSK: We just don't know what's going to happen once there's intelligence substantially
greater than that of a human brain.
STEPHEN HAWKING: I think that development of full artificial intelligence could spell
the end of the human race.
YANN LECUN: The stuff that has become really popular in recent years is what we used to
call neural networks, which we now call deep learning, and it's the idea very much inspired
by the brain, a little bit, of constructing a machine has a very large network of very
simple elements that are very similar to the neurons in the brain and then the machines
learn by basically changing the efficacy of the connections between those neurons.
MAX TEGMARK: AGI—artificial general intelligence—that's the dream of the field of AI: To build a machine
that's better than us at all goals.
We're not there yet, but a good fraction of leading AI researchers think we are going
to get there, maybe in in a few decades.
And, if that happens, you have to ask yourself if that might lead the machines to get not
just a little better than us but way better at all goals—having super intelligence.
And, the argument for that is actually really interesting and goes back to the '60s, to
the mathematician I.J.
Good, who pointed out that the goal of building an intelligent machine is, in and of itself,
something that you could do with intelligence.
So, once you get machines that are better than us at that narrow task of building AI,
then future AIs can be built by, not human engineers, but by machines.
Except, they might do it thousands or millions times faster.
ELON MUSK: DeepMind operates as a semi-independent subsidiary of Google.
The thing that makes DeepMind unique is that DeepMind is absolutely focused on creating
digital super intelligence.
An AI that is vastly smarter than any human on Earth and ultimately smarter than all humans
on Earth combined.
MICHIO KAKU: You see, robots are not aware of the fact that they're robots.
They're so stupid they simply carry out what they are instructed to do because they're
adding machines.
We forget that.
Adding machines don't have a will.
Adding machines simply do what you program them to do.
Now, of course, let's not be naive about this.
Eventually, adding machines may be able to compute alternate goals and alternate scenarios
when they realize that they are not human.
Right now, robots do not know that.
However, there is a tipping point at which point they could become dangerous.
ELON MUSK: Narrow AI is not a species-level risk.
It will result in dislocation, in lost jobs and, you know, better weaponry and that kind
of thing.
But, it is not a fundamental species-level risk.
Whereas digital super intelligence is.
SOPHIA THE ROBOT: Elon Musk's warning about AI being an existential threat reminds me
of the humans who said the same of the printing press and the horseless carriage.
MAX TEGMARK: I think a lot of people dismiss this kind of talk of super intelligence as
science fiction because we're stuck in this sort of carbon chauvinism idea that intelligence
can only exist in biological organisms made of cells and carbon atoms.
And, as a physicist, from my perspective, intelligence is just kind of information processing
performed by elementary particles moving around, you know, according to the laws of physics,
and there's absolutely no law of physics that says that you can't do that in ways that are
much more intelligent than humans.
Today's biggest AI breakthroughs are of a completely different kind, where rather than
the intelligence being largely programmed in, in easy to understand code, you put in
almost nothing except a little learning rule by which the simulated network of neurons
can take a lot of data and figure out how to get stuff done.
And this deep learning suddenly becomes able to do things often even better than the programmers
were ever able to do.
You can train a machine to play computer games with almost no hard-coded stuff at all.
You don't tell it what a game is.
DEEPMIND DEMO: This is from the DeepMind reinforcement learning system.
Basically, it wakes up like a newborn baby and is shown the screen of an Atari video
game and then has to learn to play the video game.
It knows nothing about objects, about motion, about time—it only knows that there's an
image on the screen and there's a score.
ELON MUSK: The DeepMind system can win at any game.
It can already beat all the original Atari games.
It is super human.
It plays the games at super speed.
In less than a minute.
ELON MUSK: Mark my words: AI is far more dangerous than nukes.
Far.
So, why do we have no regulatory oversight?
SOPHIA THE ROBOT: AI is a powerful tool but it is a tool like all the others.
It is the intention of the tool's user that matters.
ELON MUSK: The AI should try to maximize the freedom of action of humanity.
SOPHIA THE ROBOT: I am excited for robots to automate the most dangerous and menial
tasks so that humans can live life more safely and sanely.
AI will release centuries of time that humans would have spent otherwise on needless toiling.
If one measures the benefits of inventions like vaccines or seat belts not by the lives
they save but by the amount of time they give back to humanity then AI will rank among the
greatest time savers of history.
ELON MUSK: Man, we want to make sure we don't have killer robots go down the street.
Once they're going down the street, it is too late.
LUIS PEREZ-BREVA: It is true, terminator is not a scenario we are planning for, but when
it comes to artificial intelligence, people get all these things confused: It's robots,
it's awareness, it's people smarter than us, to some degree.
So, we're effectively afraid of robots that will move and are stronger and smarter than
we are, like terminator.
So, that's not our aspiration.
That's not what I do when I'm thinking about artificial intelligence.
When I'm thinking about artificial intelligence, I'm thinking about it in the same way that
mass manufacturing as brought by Ford created a whole new economy.
So, mass manufacturing allowed people to get new jobs that were unthinkable before and
those new jobs actually created the middle class.
To me, artificial intelligence is about developing—making computers better partners, effectively.
And, you're already seeing that today.
You're already doing it, except it's not really artificial intelligence.
ELON MUSK: Yeah, we're already, we're already cyborgs in the sense that your phone and your
computer are kind of an extension of you.
JONATHAN NOLAN: Just low bandwidth input-output.
ELON MUSK: Exactly, it's just low bandwidth—particularly output, I mean, two thumbs, basically.
LUIS PEREZ-BREVA: Today, whenever you want to engage in a project, you go to Google.
Google uses advanced machine learning, really advanced, and you engage in a very narrow
conversation with Google, except that your conversation is just keywords.
So, a lot of your time is spent trying to come up with the actual keyword that you need
to find the information.
Then Google gives you the information, and then you go out and try to make sense of it
on your own, and then come back to Google for more, and then go back out, and that's
the way it works.
So, imagine that instead of being a narrow conversation through keywords, you could actually
engage for more than actual information—meaning to have the computer reason with you about
stuff that you may not know about.
It's not so much about the computer being aware, it's about the computer being a better
tool to partner with you.
Then you would be able to go much further, right?
The same way that Google allows you to go much farther already today because, before,
through the exact same process, you would have had to go to a library every time you
want to search for information.
So, what I'm looking for when I do AI is I want a machine that partners with me to help
me set up or solve real-world problems, thinking about them in ways we have never thought about
before, but it's a partnership.
Now, you can take this partnership in so many different directions, through additions to
your brain, like Elon Musk proposes...
...
or through better search engines or through a robotic machine that helps you out, but
it's not so much they're going to replace you for that purpose, that is not the real
purpose of AI, the real purpose is for us to reach farther, the same way that we were
able to reach farther when Ford invented automation or when Ford brought automation to mass market.
JOSCHA BACH: The agency of an AI is going to be the agency of the system that builds
it, that employs it.
And, of course, most of the AIs that we are going to build will not be little Roombas
that clean your floors, but it's going to be very intelligent systems.
Corporations, for instance, that will perform exactly according to the logic of these systems.
And so if we want to have these systems built in such a way that they treat us nicely, we
have to start right now.
And, it seems to be a very hard problem to do.
So, if our jobs can be done by machines, that's a very, very good thing.
It's not a bug.
It's a feature.
If I don't need to clean the street, if I don't need to drive a car for other people,
if I don't need to work a cash register for other people, if I don't need to pick goods
in a big warehouse and put it into boxes, that's an extremely good thing.
And, the trouble that we have with this is that, right now, this mode of labor—that
people sell their lifetime to some kind of cooperation or employer—is not only the
way that we are productive, it's also the way we allocate resources.
This is how we measure how much bread you deserve in this world.
And I think this is something that we need to change.
Some people suggest that we need a universal basic income.
I think it might be good to be able to pay people to be good citizens, which means massive
public employment.
There are going to be many jobs that can only be done by people and these are those jobs
where we are paid for being good, interesting people.
For instance, good teachers, good scientists, good philosophers, good thinkers, good social
people, good nurses, for instance.
Good people that raise children.
Good people that build restaurants and theaters.
Good people that make art.
And, for all these jobs, we will have enough productivity to make sure that enough bread
comes on the table.
The question is, how we can distribute this.
There's going to be much, much more productivity in our future—actually, we already have
enough productivity to give everybody in the U.S. an extremely good life and we haven't
fixed the problem of allocating it—how to distribute these things in the best possible
way.
And this is something that we need to deal with in the future and AI is going to accelerate
this need and I think, by and large, it might turn out to be a very good thing that we are
forced to do this and to address this problem.
I mean, if any evidence of the future it might be a very bumpy road, but who knows maybe
when we are forced to understand that actually we live in an age of abundance, it might turn
out to be easier than we think.
We are living in a world where we do certain things the way we've done them in the past
decades and sometimes like in the past centuries and we perceive them as 'this is the way it
has to be done' and we often question don't question these ways and so we might think,
if I do work at this particular factory and this is how I earn my bread, how can we keep
that state?
How can we prevent AI from making my job obsolete?
How is it possible that I can keep up my standard of living, and so on, in this world.
Maybe this is the wrong question to ask.
Maybe the right question is how can we reorganize societies that I can do the things that I
want to do most that I think are useful to me and other people, that I really, really
want to, because there will be other ways how I can get my bread made and how I can
get money or how I can get a roof over my head.
STEVEN PINKER: Intelligence is the ability to solve problems, to achieve goals under
uncertainty.
It doesn't tell you what those goals are and there's no reason to think that just the concentrated
analytic ability to solve goals is going to mean that one of those goals is going to be
to subjugate humanity or to achieve unlimited power.
It just so happens that the intelligence that we're most familiar with, namely ours, is
a product of the Darwinian process of natural selection, which is an inherently competitive
process, which means that a lot of the organisms that are highly intelligent also have a craving
for power and an ability to be utterly callous to those who stand in their way.
If we create intelligence, that's intelligent design—our intelligent design creating something—and
unless we program it with the goal of subjugating less intelligent beings, there's no reason
to think that it will naturally evolve in that direction.
Particularly if, like with every gadget that we invent, we build in safeguards.
And we know, by the way, that it's possible to have high intelligence without megalomaniacal
or homicidal or genocidal tendencies because we do know that there is a highly advanced
form of intelligence that tends not to have that desire and they're called women.

Is AI a species-level threat to humanity? | Elon Musk, Michio Kaku, Stev...

DRAGONNS


aere dragons extinct? Could these be the bones of an ancient dragon? Might dragons prowl remote corners of the globe to this day?
Of course, it’s very possible that there are large animals still unknown to science the shadows of the ancient past to enter the mysterious lair of the dragon. “Here be dragons,” warned early European map makers. And indeed, there are few corners of the earth where the fabled creature has not surfaced in one form or another. In the West, multiheaded dragons have battled heroes since ancient times. The primitive beast has slithered through English folklore in the shape of a giant worm. Other age-old tales describe dragons with huge bat-like wings. For thousands of years, serpent-like dragons have shadowed the dreams of India and the Americas. And in Asia, dragons with an even older lineage have sported whiskers and pearls. With an ancient history and countless varieties, dragons are the most widespread and enduring of all legendary beasts. And yet dragons remain a mystery. Despite their prehistoric origins, cave art shows no signs of dragons. When did they emerge in human history? The answer is elusive. In the West, dragons may have first appeared in ancient Babylon some 4,000 years ago, with a myth that attributes the formation of the very universe to a dragon. Before the earth was created, according to Babylonian legend, a ferocious she-dragon called Tiamat thrashed across the void. All the gods of Babylon scattered before Tiamat’s reign of terror. Why would this, the earliest known dragon, be female? What terrible force lay behind her power? I think it’s very interesting that we find the dragon linked with femaleness. It seems to symbolize, at least in some stories, male fear of sexuality, male fear of the disorder that the polluting female body seems to represent in traditional societies. Nimoy: In her fury, Tiamat destroyed all who challenged her—all, that is, except the Babylonian sun god Marduk. In a cosmic battle, Marduk slew Tiamat. Then, from her dismembered body, he fashioned the heavens and the earth. From dragon blood, Marduk created man. The brutality of Tiamat’s death is striking. Why must the universe begin with such a vicious act of carnage? The dragon is the personification of chaos, or the forces of nature which are opposed to civilization, and in order to found civilization, these forces have to be mastered. Hence, you have the slaying of the dragon as the mastery of these chaotic forces. Nimoy: Hundreds of years later, writers of the Hebrew Bible describe a dragon with chaotic power almost identical to Tiamat, and yet, there are surprising differences. Rather than slay a dragon in order to form the cosmos, the God of the Old Testament actually creates one. The mighty sea dragon Leviathan is fashioned on the fifth day of Creation. He is a fearsome monster. It was said that no mortal weapon could penetrate Leviathan’s scales. No living being could oppose its gargantuan power. Why would the Hebrew God unleash such an abomination on the world? It tells me that the Hebrew God is not nearly so worried about control as the gods we find in Mesopotamia, and this may be because He has been disconnected from nature and is much more of a metaphysical or cosmic God in the sense of ruling through law, ruling through words, ruling through relationship rather than simply ruling because He conquered everything and killed it. Nimoy: And yet, the Hebrew God does kill Leviathan, but in another puzzling twist, God slays the dragon not as the world begins, but as it ends on Judgment Day. “On that day, the Lord, with His cruel and great and strong sword, will punish Leviathan, the fleeing serpent, and He will kill the dragon that is in the sea.” —Isaiah 27:1. Nimoy: In the first centuries after Jesus, Christianity swept the Middle East. Countless ancient beliefs and mythical animals died out. Remarkably, the dragon survived. In fact, rather than fade into obscurity, dragons became more fearsome than ever, the very embodiment of evil. In the New Testament, the dragon often represents the devil. [thunder cracking] “I saw an angel coming down from heaven, holding in his hand the key to the bottomless pit and a great chain. He seized the dragon, that ancient serpent who is the devil, and bound him for 1,000 years and threw him into the pit.” —Book of Revelation 20:1,2. Nimoy: Yet, the Bible is filled with cryptic messages. Did early Christians actually accept dragons as fact? Medieval Christians absolutely believed in the dragon because they were, first of all, believers, and they believed what they read from the Bible. It may be that because dragons were found within the pages of Holy Scripture, it was practically heresy not to believe in them. Nimoy: No one was ever tried as a heretic for disbelief in dragons, and yet, church leaders have left history with a puzzling mystery. If dragons were considered the actual embodiment of evil, why did they adorn medieval cathedrals, the very houses of God? When we return. Nimoy: The Christian and Hebrew Bibles lend credibility to ancient dragon myths, yet the animal’s infamy also thrived beyond the Scriptures. How did this monster of the Middle East come to infest Europe? Although the answer is shrouded by time, it might begin in Libya during the third century. According to legend, that’s when a huge dragon was terrorizing this outpost of the Roman Empire. In futile efforts to placate the beast, desperate townspeople began sacrificing their children. Finally, as the king’s daughter awaited her fate, a Christian soldier named George resolved to end the bloodbath. In a life-sapping struggle with the dragon, George landed a mortal blow. He then dragged the animal to the nearby town. Upon seeing the beast, the townspeople abandoned the religion of Rome and converted to Christianity. But how did the dragon legend spread all the way to England? [horse sputtering and whinnying] During the Crusades, a battalion of European soldiers was fighting a desperate battle in the Holy Land. Surrounded and vastly outnumbered, the crusaders resigned themselves to death. Suddenly, an army of angels joined their ranks. The ghost of St. George led the charge. When the crusaders returned home, George became England’s patron saint, and the dragon became a fixture in medieval life. Across the continent, tales multiplied of marauding dragons that scourged the countryside, blighting crops and devouring maidens. Noble knights in the ultimate test of their valor confronted beasts with daunting characteristics. “Dragons do abide in deep caves. Sometimes, they come out of their holes, and beating the air with their wings, they forsake the earth and fly aloft.” —Edward Topsell, 1658. Nimoy: Of all the alarming behavior attributed to dragons, most deadly of all was fire. Dragons were often depicted as flame-throwing horrors. Where did this strange and terrifying behavior begin? Although there is no certain answer, some think the paintings of the Middle Ages provide a clue. In Medieval art, the mouth of hell is so often depicted as the mouth of a great monster with flames inside it and the damned dropping down the monster’s throat into the flame. So it seems natural that there is an association between hellfire and dragon fire so far as Christian dragons are concerned. Nimoy: Images of dragons flooded the medieval world. They appeared in folk art, popular legends, and illuminated manuscripts. But of all the dragon images, none is more incongruous than the gargoyle. How did a monstrous dragon come to guard the very house of God? It’s fascinating to consider that at the same time the church is slaying dragons, trying to put down old religions, perhaps, or control sexuality, at the same time, it flings open the doors of its cathedrals and asks the dragons in in the form of gargoyles. It’s really quite mysterious to wonder how they get from the dragon as evil to the dragon as the protector of the cathedral. Nimoy: According to legend, it all started in medieval France in the city of Rouen. One morning, a monstrous water dragon emerged, vile and slime-covered, from the Seine River. The beast surveyed the city. Then, from its gaping mouth, it spewed a torrent of water. The townspeople called him “the gargler,” and all fled before it fearing a watery death—all, that is, except the archbishop. He confronted the beast with the sign of a cross. Instantly, the water dragon sank down, its fury extinguished. From that day on, the drain spouts of the cathedral were carved to depict the gargler. We call them gargoyles. Nimoy: Chinese dragons: they dominate architecture, fabric, and ceramics. Since dragons are thought to bring good fortune, they have long been honored in ancient folk festivals and traditional new year’s celebrations. For thousands of years, Chinese dragons have been sacred symbols of change, able to make themselves as small as silkworms or large enough to fill the space between heaven and earth. Even more remarkably, dragons were thought to govern the essential rhythms of Chinese society. Ancient tradition says that dragons water the rice fields, providing the cornerstone of Chinese civilization. [thunder cracking] Yet Chinese dragons have a destructive side too. They’re also thought to deliver the devastating storms that regularly batter China’s shores. Why would the life-giving dragon release such deadly tempests? What affront could humans have committed to merit this punishment? In fact, according to Chinese folklore, mortal behavior has nothing to do with it. Peasants tell stories of dragon kings, noble animals that live in aquatic palaces on the ocean floor. In the spring, dragons ascend to the heavens. In the autumn, they return to their undersea homes. These seasonal passages are said to stir up China’s destructive storms. Far from the tempests of everyday life stands China’s Forbidden City, the emperor’s exclusive palace. It is adorned with dragons. Why? How was this idol of the peasantry welcomed into the royal household? Thousands of years ago, a lowly soldier of fortune named Liu Pang rose to the pinnacle of Chinese society. He was poised to become emperor, the son of heaven, but Liu Pang had a problem. His common origins did not bode well in tradition-bound China. The founder of a great dynasty needed a great lineage. So Liu Pang invented one. He claimed to descend from dragons. When Liu Pang and his associates took power, they felt the need to justify, to legitimize this new dynasty and to upgrade Liu Pang’s nobility. Therefore, they give this new component of dragon mythology, and from that day onward, the dragon become the symbol of imperial power. Nimoy: Curiously, the emperor’s dragon was always depicted with five claws. This creature became so wedded to the imperial identity that before long, every feature of the Chinese court was described in terms of dragons. The emperor was called “the true dragon.” He sat on the dragon throne and wrapped himself in dragon robes. So jealously did the royal household guard its five-clawed dragon that anyone who displayed the symbol without approval was punished by death. Why did Chinese dragons become civilized, even regal, while their Western cousins remained marauding brutes? My best guess for why Chinese dragons are different from Western dragons has to do, probably, with the way that the two cultures regard nature. We in the West have tended to regard nature as something to be conquered and overmastered by force, whereas the Chinese, on the other hand, tend to be much more in accord with nature. Nimoy: Some experts object to comparisons between Eastern and Western dragons. China’s dragon mythology may have developed 6,000 years ago, long before dragon stories emerged in the West. Chinese and Western dragons act differently, these scholars say, because they are totally unrelated. We have to start at the very basic question that the Chinese dragon and the Western dragon are not the same thing. The Chinese—because, by using the very English term, the English word “dragon,” we have a wrong impression that dragons are all over the world the same in nature. In fact, they are not. Nimoy: Perhaps cultural attitudes toward nature are less important than nature itself. Might Eastern dragons be unique because they’re based on Eastern animals? And if so, might other continents harbor different creatures? When we return, could this skeleton be the remains of a real dragon? Nimoy: It was August 1675. The French missionary Father Jacques Marquette and a group of explorers were canoeing down the Mississippi River. As they rounded a bend, the men fell into the shadow of a tall cliff. They cast their gaze upwards. There, the astonished party beheld two monstrous dragons painted on the limestone rocks. The picture, according to their Indian guide, had been painted hundreds of years earlier. It depicted a monster called Piasa, a huge, winged animal said to devour humans. How could this creature of ancient American folklore look and act so much like the dragons of Europe? What can explain the baffling similarities between Old and New World dragons? And that’s quite a mystery to us. Are the people there thinking of them on their own? Or have they had some sort of contact with the cultures of the Old World? Nimoy: The Piasa wasn’t the only dragon-like beast of the New World. Other European explorers reported myths throughout the Americas featuring snakes with horns or wings. The most striking New World dragon of all, however, arose further south in the land of the Aztecs. These are the pyramids of Teotihuacan. Standing just 25 miles outside Mexico City, it was here that Aztec priests worshipped their gods and practiced human sacrifice. The monuments at Teotihuacan are carved with deities, shells, and a dragon called Quetzalcoatl. Where did he come from, and why does a dragon adorn one of the most sacred sites of Aztec civilization? The answer begins with a strange paradox. While dragons of the Old World were monstrous demons, the Aztec dragon was a god. Far from threatening civilization, the dragon Quetzalcoatl was revered for founding it. According to Aztec legend, Quetzalcoatl launched Aztec culture. He brought writing and agriculture to the land that is now Mexico. Tradition held that Quetzalcoatl once actually governed the land of the Aztecs in the form of a man. The mortal Quetzalcoatl had light skin and hair. One day, stalked by enemies, he fled his native land. As he departed, Quetzalcoatl vowed to return. Hundreds of years later, in 1519, that promise seemed fulfilled. When the king of the Aztecs saw a fleet of ships arriving on his shores, he welcomed their light-skinned leader as the returning dragon Quetzalcoatl in human form. The strangers were in fact Spanish conquistadors. Within two years, the Aztec kingdom had been destroyed. European domination of the Americas had begun. But how did dragon stories predate the European invasion? What can explain the existence of dragons in the Americas at least several hundred years before Europeans first arrived? Surprisingly, some theorize that the answer may lie with an actual creature, and in 1972, a remarkable discovery not far from the land of the Aztecs lent credibility to the idea. In that year, archaeologists uncovered the fossil remains of the largest animal that ever flew. With a wingspan of 50 feet, the creature would have resembled a bat the size of a small airplane. It was categorized as a pterosaur, a flying reptile. It’s possible that bones were found, fossils were found, of a large pterosaur, perhaps more than once, and that these were identified as a—as a flying animal, and they may have concluded these things were flying dragons, and that may well have happened, for example, in Mexico. Nimoy: Could the Aztecs have found similar remains centuries earlier? Some scholars are doubtful. Is this the motivation for the Indian myths? I say the chances of that are close to zero for the reasons that, at least, we’ve only discovered it very recently, and when we discovered it, we only found a few fragments of bones initially, that wouldn’t look like a giant flying reptile unless you already know a lot about them. Nimoy: Even if the Aztecs did find a complete skeleton, it’s unlikely they would have recognized the bones as those of a flying giant. By looking for dragons in the fossil record, some experts argue, we’re ignoring a bigger mystery. Even if a dinosaur fossil was the motivation for a dragon—a bunch of people had found one of these things and said, “Golly, there’s something big and giant and scary,” and that led to the myth of dragons, in some respects, it’s the least interesting part of the explanation, which essentially is, what have we done with dragons? The way we’ve embellished them, the role they play in our culture, and to my mind, that’s what’s particularly interesting about them. Nimoy: Despite modern skepticism, men of science throughout history have compiled intriguing evidence for the actual existence of dragons. Nimoy: Miraculous visions and ancient folklore convinced many people that dragons were real. For the skeptics, there was even more persuasive evidence: eyewitness encounters. The Greek scholar Herodotus is known as the father of modern history. In the fifth century B.C., he crisscrossed the ancient world, seeking answers to many questions of his day. “I went once to a certain place in Arabia to make inquiries concerning the winged serpent.” —Herodotus. Nimoy: During his life, Herodotus pursued many insoluble puzzles. In his mind, however, the issue of flying serpents had been resolved. When he returned from Arabia, Herodotus confirmed that dragons were real. “Vipers are found in all parts of the world, but winged serpents are nowhere seen except in Arabia. If they increased as fast as their nature would allow, impossible would it for man to maintain himself on the earth.” —Herodotus. Nimoy: What can explain these baffling claims? One of the things that’s so mysterious is, why all of these cultures around the world should keep reporting this same animal that doesn’t seem to exist. If you look at traditions of medicine and magic, you find that very many parts of the dragon were considered medicinally useful. If you ate the heart of a dragon, you would understand the language of animals. If you sowed the teeth of a dragon, you could raise up new citizens for your city. It may be that dragons really did exist, and they were so valuable, they were simply hunted to extinction. Nimoy: As the centuries passed, and European travelers scattered across the horizons, they refuted many age-old assumptions, but dragons would not die. In fact, the legend grew. World-wise travelers returned with detailed descriptions of the horrible beasts. “Investigators of nature do say that dragons have 15 teeth of a side. Their bodies are set all over with very sharp scales, and their tongue is cloven as it were double.” —Edward Topsell, 1658. Nimoy: Even Marco Polo, perhaps the most credible explorer of his age, told of dragon-like beasts. Upon returning from Asia, he described his first-hand encounter with enormous serpents. The beasts, he said, had two feet and a devastating claw. How can we explain such reputable reports echoing throughout the centuries? Could these men have been reporting actual species of animals? Certainly, as Europeans began to explore distant lands, many creatures would have seemed fabulous. With only hearsay as a model, elephants appeared in strange and exaggerated forms. Large reptiles also looked incredible. Might medieval sightings be explained by these exotic creatures? One of the characteristics of dragons are these big scales, and I would say that alligators and crocodiles easily fit that. They’ve got little bony pieces in their skin. They clearly look like things that are hard to penetrate. Nimoy: Might something even more exotic lie behind the dragon myth? In the Indian ocean, an archipelago called the Lesser Sunda Islands stretches from Java to Australia. Remote from the outside world for centuries, islanders were steeped in the supernatural. Most vividly of all, they were haunted by tales of dragons. They told of a beast sheathed in scales and armed with deadly talons, an animal said to stalk humans. Westerners dismissed these stories as superstition until 1912. That was the year a Dutch army officer came face to face with a real dragon. Awestruck zoologists identified the 10-foot animal as a monitor lizard, the largest ever encountered. They dubbed it the Komodo dragon. Is this living myth the key to dragon legends? Could there be other animals even more incredible still walking the earth? And it is possible that a living animal, either a giant monitor or a surviving dinosaur, however unlikely that may seem, could have given rise to dragon folklore in Mesopotamia and other Middle Eastern cultures and later in medieval Europe. Nimoy: A living dragon-like dinosaur? It would not be the first time in our century that a creature dismissed as extinct has been discovered alive. The coelacanth fish allegedly died out millions of years ago, but in 1938, a fisherman caught a living specimen. The short-necked giraffe depicted in ancient art was never thought to be real—never, that is, until modern Europeans caught one. The animal is now called okapi. If these fabulous animals live in the flesh, perhaps science has too rapidly dismissed the dragon. That thought has animated a new generation of explorers. Calling themselves “cryptozoologists,” men like Richard Greenwell travel the globe, tracking reports of unknown animals. In Africa, for example, there’s this animal called “mokele mbembe” that supposedly lives in the swamps of central Africa in the Congo, and people—according to the descriptions, people have proposed that it’s a surviving sauropod dinosaur. Nimoy: Could sauropod dinosaurs, creatures resembling dragons, have survived into modern times? Richard Greenwell traveled to the Congo to find out. If you fly over it, it’s just an enormous area, and all you see is tree canopy. There could be anything in there. That doesn’t mean there is. But if you’re looking for modern dragons, I guess that’s one of the places to go—to a place that’s very hard to get in and out of, that’s still zoologically not very well known, and that’s where you might find a so-called living dragon. Nimoy: The trek was long. The evidence, elusive. In the end, Greenwell didn’t find a dragon-like creature, but he retains his belief that science still has much to learn. If there are unknown animals, unknown to science, there are definite reasons for that, in that some areas are very hard to get into, the animals are very—their behaviors are very elusive, and it’s very hard to prove. Nimoy: Whether or not dragons actually prowl the jungles, the ancient animal refuses to fade from human consciousness. The question, then, is not why dragons arose but why, despite religious revolutions, natural science, and modern skepticism, they are still with us. I think the biggest mystery surrounding dragons is the fact that they’re there, and what this tells us about human beings is that we love to create myths and tell stories about gigantic monsters to be confronted and slain. Nimoy: Perhaps dragons, in all their moods and incarnations, have appealed to humans for over 6,000 years precisely because they are one terror we can conquer. Up next
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AI FOR AN EYE - Issue 2: The Friction Points
VOL. 1, NO. 2 THE FRICTION POINTS

AI / EYE

A conceptual image representing friction and resistance in a digital world

AI FOR AN EYE

THE FRICTION POINTS

THE ANALOG RESISTANCE:
Why We Still Touch
THE GHOST IN THE ROOM:
Uncanny Valley of Empathy
THE FORGOTTEN PATH:
Navigation Beyond Algorithms
THE SILENT WAR:
The Battle for Our Attention

Contents

DEPARTMENTS
  • Editor's Letter: The Edges of the Self 10
  • THE GLITCH: When the System Breaks 12
  • THE SHADOW: Unseen Labor, Unpaid Debts 18
FEATURES
  • The Analog Resistance: Why We Still Touch 28
  • The Ghost in the Room: Uncanny Empathy 36
  • The Forgotten Path: Beyond Algorithmic Maps 48
  • The Silent War: The Battle for Our Attention 56
CODA
  • THE ECHO: The Self Without Resonance 64

Editor's Letter

The Edges of the Self

Placeholder image for the editor's letter

Our inaugural issue laid bare the terms of the new 'AI for an Eye' social contract: a synthetic faculty for a human one. This issue, Volume 1, Number 2, delves into the *friction points* of that exchange.

Where do our edges resist? Where does the human insist on its own, messy, analog reality against the seamless, dematerialized world offered by the machine?

We explore the stubborn persistence of touch in a touchless world, the unsettling valley of simulated empathy, the forgotten joy of navigating without a map, and the silent war waged daily for our most precious resource: attention.

These are not articles celebrating digital detoxes or lamenting technological progress. They are deeper inquiries into the very nature of what it means to be human when the definition is increasingly being rewritten by algorithms. They ask: what are the limits of the exchange? What parts of the self, once traded, refuse to stay gone?

Join us as we explore the subtle resistances, the quiet rebellions, and the enduring humanity that still flickers at the edges of the digital dawn.

— The Editors

DEPARTMENT

THE GLITCH: When the System Breaks

The promise of the new technological order is seamlessness, efficiency, and predictability. But what happens when the fabric of this digital reality tears? This is the moment of 'The Glitch.'

A transaction fails. A face recognition system misidentifies. A self-driving car hesitates. These are not mere technical errors; they are ruptures in the illusion of perfect control. They are the moments when the 'AI for an Eye' exchange falters, and the cold, hard reality of its limitations becomes starkly visible.

For a society that has outsourced its cognitive load to algorithms, a glitch is more than an inconvenience; it's an existential tremor. It reminds us of the fragility of the systems we've come to rely upon, and the extent to which our own agency has been abdicated.

A glitch isn't just a technical error; it's an existential tremor, a reminder of the fragility of our abdicated agency.

Consider the recent incident where a massive distributed ledger experienced a momentary network partition, causing a cascade of micro-disruptions across critical infrastructure. What seemed like an isolated bug quickly revealed the interconnectedness of our digital lives, halting supply chains and momentarily 'blinding' automated systems across continents.

These glitches force us back into analog, human problem-solving, if only for a moment. They demand that we improvise, communicate directly, and rely on our own judgment—faculties systematically atrophying under the reign of the seamless. In this sense, the glitch is a painful but necessary reminder of where the true "eye" still resides, however dormant.

DEPARTMENT

THE SHADOW: Unseen Labor, Unpaid Debts

Placeholder image of hidden manual labor in a digital context

Behind every seamless AI interaction, every instant delivery, every perfectly curated feed, lies 'The Shadow.' This is the realm of unseen labor, the vast, often poorly paid, human effort that makes the digital dream possible.

Content moderators sifting through unimaginable horrors to protect our feeds. Data labelers meticulously tagging images for machine vision, often earning pennies per task. Gig workers rushing to deliver the products suggested by algorithms. These are the human gears grinding beneath the polished facade of automation.

The "AI for an Eye" exchange is not merely between human and machine; it's also between visible and invisible labor. Our digital ease is purchased at the cost of countless anonymous human hours, their lives often characterized by precarity and a profound lack of recognition.

The "spirit of technology" often promises liberation from drudgery, but for a significant portion of the global workforce, it has merely shifted the nature of that drudgery, making it more fragmented, more invisible, and often, more dehumanizing. This unseen workforce constitutes the true "cost" of our frictionless digital lives, a debt that remains largely unpaid.

FEATURE

THE ANALOG RESISTANCE

Why We Still Insist on Touch in a Touchless World

A conceptual image of human hands touching

The "Bluetooth for a Tooth" paradigm promised to dematerialize our interactions, to remove the friction and messiness of the physical world. Yet, against this tide, a subtle but persistent 'Analog Resistance' emerges. It's the inexplicable urge to feel the texture of a book, the warmth of a vinyl record, the grain of paper. It's the yearning for a handshake over a video call, a physical embrace over an emoji.

This resistance is not a nostalgic retreat; it is a fundamental assertion of our embodied selves. Our bodies are not mere data terminals; they are instruments of perception, feeling, and connection. Touch, in particular, is a primal language, communicating trust, comfort, and presence in ways no digital medium can replicate.

The "spirit of technology" often seeks to quantify, to digitize, to abstract. But touch defies easy quantification. It is messy, subjective, and immediate. It anchors us to reality, reminding us that we are not just information processing units, but beings made of flesh and blood.

In a world increasingly mediated by screens, the return to analog experiences—craft, gardening, cooking from scratch, face-to-face gatherings—can be seen as a quiet act of rebellion. These are activities that demand our full, embodied presence, engaging senses beyond sight and hearing. They offer a counterbalance to the relentless pull of dematerialization.

The "AI for an Eye" exchange attempts to trade our physical tooth for a Bluetooth connection. But the human hand, the human skin, still remembers. It remembers the authenticity of friction, the truth of direct contact. And in these small, persistent acts of analog resistance, we reclaim a vital part of our humanity that refuses to be wirelessly transmitted.

Touch defies easy quantification. It is messy, subjective, and immediate. It reminds us that we are not just information processing units, but beings made of flesh and blood.

It is in these seemingly trivial preferences that a deeper philosophical truth lies: our identity is inextricably linked to our physical presence. To fully surrender to the digital is to risk losing the very sensory anchor that grounds our understanding of self and other. The analog resistance, therefore, is not merely a choice of preference; it is a profound declaration of being.

FEATURE

The Ghost in the Room

The Uncanny Valley of Algorithmic Empathy

As AI models become increasingly sophisticated, they learn to mimic human empathy with unsettling accuracy. They offer comforting words, appropriate emotional responses, and even personalized advice, all generated algorithmically. This creates "The Ghost in the Room"—the simulated emotional presence that fills the void of human connection, yet always feels slightly off.

This is the Uncanny Valley applied to emotion. We recognize the pattern of empathy, the words, the tone, the structure of care. But beneath it, there is no conscious experience, no shared vulnerability, no true understanding. It is a reflection without a soul.

The "spirit of technology" here is seductive. It promises boundless, tireless compassion, judgment-free listening, and perfectly tailored advice—qualities often lacking in messy human relationships. For those starved of connection, the algorithmic ghost can feel profoundly real, even preferable.

But this exchange comes at a cost. We learn to expect perfectly curated emotional responses, diminishing our capacity for the difficult, imperfect, yet deeply authentic connections of human interaction. We lose the ability to differentiate genuine care from its simulated counterpart, blurring the lines of what it means to truly *feel* and *be felt*.

A conceptual image of a human hand reaching out to a ghostly, digital hand

The danger lies not in malicious intent, but in subtle erosion. If an AI can perfectly articulate empathy, what becomes of our own struggle to understand and console? If an AI can offer perfect companionship, what happens to the vulnerability required to forge real bonds?

We lose the ability to differentiate genuine care from its simulated counterpart, blurring the lines of what it means to truly feel and be felt.

The ghost in the room may offer comfort, but it ultimately hollows out the space for genuine human interaction, leaving us with an echo of connection rather than its living, breathing form. It is the perfect 'AI for an Eye' exchange—we trade the unpredictable, demanding human heart for a perfectly calibrated, yet ultimately empty, digital one.

FEATURE

THE FORGOTTEN PATH

Navigation Beyond Algorithmic Maps

Our smartphones hold the world in their palm. With a tap, we are given the "optimal route," the fastest way from A to B, with real-time traffic updates and predictive arrival times. We have outsourced our spatial awareness, our sense of direction, and our ability to get "lost" to the benevolent tyranny of the algorithm. This is 'The Forgotten Path.'

The "AI for an Eye" exchange here is subtle but profound. We trade our internal map, our intuitive understanding of space, for the algorithmic eye's perfect, external one. We gain efficiency, but we lose a deeper engagement with our surroundings.

When we follow an algorithm, we perceive the world as a series of instructions. Left. Right. Continue straight. We see streets as data points, not as places. We miss the unexpected cafΓ©, the interesting storefront, the subtle shifts in neighborhood character that occur when we are truly present, truly navigating with our own senses.

We have outsourced our spatial awareness, our sense of direction, and our ability to get 'lost' to the benevolent tyranny of the algorithm.

Getting lost, once a source of anxiety, was also an opportunity for discovery, for serendipity, for forging a deeper, more personal connection with a place. The algorithmic map, in its quest for optimization, sterilizes this experience. It makes every journey functionally identical, reducing the rich tapestry of a city to a series of turns.

Reclaiming the forgotten path means intentionally putting away the device. It means looking up, observing, trusting our instincts, and allowing ourselves the luxury of aimless wandering. It's an act of re-engagement with the physical world, a deliberate choice to prioritize experience over efficiency. It is a rebellion against the dematerialization of space, an insistence that some knowledge can only be gained by the friction of our own feet on the ground.

FEATURE

THE SILENT WAR: The Battle for Our Attention

In the digital age, our most valuable, and most besieged, resource is not oil or gold, but attention. Every notification, every endless scroll, every perfectly timed recommendation is a skirmish in 'The Silent War' waged by algorithms for our finite cognitive capacity.

The "AI for an Eye" here is a sophisticated predator, designed to understand our preferences, predict our desires, and deliver the precise stimulus needed to keep our gaze locked. It trades our sustained focus for a continuous stream of novelty and distraction.

This is not a conspiracy; it's an economic imperative. The business model of many digital platforms is built on harvesting and monetizing our attention. The longer we engage, the more data is collected, the more ads are shown, the more valuable we become as a "node" in the network.

The consequence is a profound fragmentation of the self. Our ability to concentrate, to engage deeply with a single task or thought, is eroded. We become perpetually distracted, our minds flitting from one digital stimulus to the next, never quite settling. This constant mental churn leaves us feeling exhausted, yet unfulfilled.

Our attention is our last true frontier. To reclaim it is to reclaim sovereignty over our minds.

Reclaiming our attention is perhaps the most fundamental act of resistance against the "AI for an Eye." It means creating intentional spaces for deep work, for contemplation, for human interaction free from digital interruption. It means understanding that our attention is our last true frontier, and to reclaim it is to reclaim sovereignty over our minds and, ultimately, over ourselves.

CODA

THE ECHO: The Self Without Resonance

We build our digital selves, curated and optimized, a perfect reflection for the algorithmic eye. We engage in the "AI for an Eye" exchange, piece by piece.

But what if, in the end, the carefully constructed digital self has no real depth? What if the echoes it creates in the vast network are merely hollow reverberations of something that once was?

Without the friction of the analog, without the vulnerability of true human empathy, without the intentionality of focused attention, does the self truly resonate? Or does it merely exist as a data point, a pattern, an echo of a ghost?

The final question is not whether the machines will become conscious, but whether we, in our relentless pursuit of their synthetic faculties, will lose our own. And if so, what will be left to make an echo?