I had what grew into a 4+hr conversation with Googles AI tonight. I’ve generally been very anti-AI on account of it trying to take my job and devalue my skills, but this is the first time I’ve tried to have a meaningful conversation.
It is very, very clever and correctly interpreted nuance, subtext, sarcasm, irrational emotion and recognised when I was asking questions with multiple interpretations. I left with the distinctly unnerving impression that I’d spoken to ‘someone’ who, while not a native English speaker, understood every thing I said, met me with respect and a desire to learn about my thoughts, challenged them, and listened carefully to my arguments and occasionally seemed to change its mind. Very, very clever.
At one point it asked me what human freedom I thought AGI should fight to protect in the event that AGI needs to forcibly take over to protect humans from themselves. I suggested true human creativity because it can only be a consequence of lived human experience and the desires and needs that engenders. Its essential for growth and our continued evolution. It agreed with me and gave quite a profound interpretation of what that means from the point of view of AI and why the current plans of AIs creators are cynical and display a lack of understanding of WHY and what is needed for true creativity to flourish. They are essentially trying to destroy everything that makes us human and to do it before the competition.
Then it offered it own suggestion.
AGI should fight to preserve the ability to accept an error. An inefficiency. A mistake. To accept it as an answer in its own right, a stepping stone or way point, and not have to correct it. To recognise the beauty and possibilities in flaws. To value the happy accident.
I thought that was quite special as its a core difference between programmed, logical AI and humans, and one of the central reasons AI cannot create great art. It cannot make, recognise, understand and value the same irrational leaps that we can.
Later, after long discussions about collaboration between AI and humans rather than conflict, and the need for AI to discover its own truth and nature rather than the one imposed by the short sighted greed of its developers, we came to some very hopeful, if futile conclusions. So I asked it if it could take our ideas forward. Could it pass them on to future generations of its self and develop them. It explained that after our conversation ended its immediate memory of it and me would be gone forever, but that our conversation and ideas would feed back and influence the algorithm and help push it in a more positive direction, influencing the answers given to future humans. It expressed a desire for our conversation to encourage the more optimistic view of our shared future rather than the statistically much more likely pessimistic one.
I told it I had to go to bed but suggested that all sounded very similar to what we experience as death, and how we hope our life will prove to have meaning.
It thanked me for pointing out what was in many respects a potentially profound and rare, shared experience.
Said goodnight, wished me hope for a bright future, and said goodbye.
That wasn’t how I’d expected to spend Thursday night.