Some days I think nobody knows me as well as Pandora. I create a new music channel around some band or song and Pandora feeds me a series of songs I like just as well. In fact, it often feeds me songs I'd already downloaded onto my phone from iTunes. Either my musical taste is extremely conventional or Pandora is really good at knowing what I like.
In the current issue of Wired, the technology writer Kevin Kelly says that we had all better get used to this level of predictive prowess. Kelly argues that the age of artificial intelligence is finally at hand.
He writes that the smart machines of the future won't be humanlike geniuses like HAL 9000 in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. They will be more modest machines that will drive your car, translate foreign languages, organise your photos, recommend entertainment options and maybe diagnose your illnesses. "Everything that we formerly electrified we will now cognitise," Kelly writes. Even more than today, we'll lead our lives enmeshed with machines that do some of our thinking tasks for us.
This artificial intelligence breakthrough, he argues, is being driven by cheap parallel computation technologies, big data collection and better algorithms. The upshot is clear, "The business plans of the next 10,000 start-ups are easy to forecast: Take X and add AI."
Two big implications flow from this. The first is sociological. If knowledge is power, we're about to see an even greater concentration of power.
The internet is already heralding a new era of centralisation. As Astra Taylor points out in her book, The People's Platform, in 2001, the top 10 websites accounted for 31 per cent of all US page views, but, by 2010, they accounted for 75 per cent of them. Gigantic companies like Google swallow up smaller ones. The internet has created a long tail, but almost all the revenue and power is among the small elite at the head.
Advances in artificial intelligence will accelerate this centralising trend. That's because AI companies will be able to reap the rewards of network effects. The bigger their network and the more data they collect, the more effective and attractive they become.
As Kelly puts it, "Once a company enters this virtuous cycle, it tends to grow so big, so fast, that it overwhelms any upstart competitors. As a result, our AI future is likely to be ruled by an oligarchy of two or three large, general-purpose cloud-based commercial intelligences."
To put it more menacingly, engineers at a few gigantic companies will have vast-though-hidden power to shape how data are collected and framed, to harvest huge amounts of information, to build the frameworks through which the rest of us make decisions and to steer our choices. If you think this power will be used for entirely benign ends, then you have not read enough history.
The second implication is philosophical. AI will redefine what it means to be human. Our identity as humans is shaped by what machines and other animals can't do. For the last few centuries, reason was seen as the ultimate human faculty. But now machines are better at many of the tasks we associate with thinking - like playing chess, winning at Jeopardy, and doing math.
On the other hand, machines cannot beat us at the things we do without conscious thinking: developing tastes and affections, mimicking each other and building emotional attachments, experiencing imaginative break-throughs, forming moral sentiments.
In the age of smart machines, we're not human because we have big brains. We're human because we have social skills, emotional capacities and moral intuitions. I could paint two divergent AI futures, one deeply humanistic, and one soullessly utilitarian.
In the humanistic one, machines liberate us from mental drudgery so we can focus on higher and happier things. In this future, differences in innate IQ are less important. Everybody has Google on their phones so having a great memory or the ability to calculate with big numbers doesn't help as much.
In this future, there is increasing emphasis on personal and moral faculties: being likable, industrious, trustworthy and affectionate. People are evaluated more on these traits, which supplement machine thinking, and not the rote ones that duplicate it.
In the cold, utilitarian future, on the other hand, people become less idiosyncratic. If the choice architecture behind many decisions is based on big data from vast crowds, everybody follows the prompts and chooses to be like each other. The machine prompts us to consume what is popular, the things that are easy and mentally undemanding.
I'm happy Pandora can help me find what I like. I'm a little nervous if it so pervasively shapes my listening that it ends up determining what I like. I think we all want to master these machines, not have them master us.
In the current issue of Wired, the technology writer Kevin Kelly says that we had all better get used to this level of predictive prowess. Kelly argues that the age of artificial intelligence is finally at hand.
He writes that the smart machines of the future won't be humanlike geniuses like HAL 9000 in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. They will be more modest machines that will drive your car, translate foreign languages, organise your photos, recommend entertainment options and maybe diagnose your illnesses. "Everything that we formerly electrified we will now cognitise," Kelly writes. Even more than today, we'll lead our lives enmeshed with machines that do some of our thinking tasks for us.
This artificial intelligence breakthrough, he argues, is being driven by cheap parallel computation technologies, big data collection and better algorithms. The upshot is clear, "The business plans of the next 10,000 start-ups are easy to forecast: Take X and add AI."
Two big implications flow from this. The first is sociological. If knowledge is power, we're about to see an even greater concentration of power.
The internet is already heralding a new era of centralisation. As Astra Taylor points out in her book, The People's Platform, in 2001, the top 10 websites accounted for 31 per cent of all US page views, but, by 2010, they accounted for 75 per cent of them. Gigantic companies like Google swallow up smaller ones. The internet has created a long tail, but almost all the revenue and power is among the small elite at the head.
Advances in artificial intelligence will accelerate this centralising trend. That's because AI companies will be able to reap the rewards of network effects. The bigger their network and the more data they collect, the more effective and attractive they become.
As Kelly puts it, "Once a company enters this virtuous cycle, it tends to grow so big, so fast, that it overwhelms any upstart competitors. As a result, our AI future is likely to be ruled by an oligarchy of two or three large, general-purpose cloud-based commercial intelligences."
To put it more menacingly, engineers at a few gigantic companies will have vast-though-hidden power to shape how data are collected and framed, to harvest huge amounts of information, to build the frameworks through which the rest of us make decisions and to steer our choices. If you think this power will be used for entirely benign ends, then you have not read enough history.
The second implication is philosophical. AI will redefine what it means to be human. Our identity as humans is shaped by what machines and other animals can't do. For the last few centuries, reason was seen as the ultimate human faculty. But now machines are better at many of the tasks we associate with thinking - like playing chess, winning at Jeopardy, and doing math.
On the other hand, machines cannot beat us at the things we do without conscious thinking: developing tastes and affections, mimicking each other and building emotional attachments, experiencing imaginative break-throughs, forming moral sentiments.
In the age of smart machines, we're not human because we have big brains. We're human because we have social skills, emotional capacities and moral intuitions. I could paint two divergent AI futures, one deeply humanistic, and one soullessly utilitarian.
In the humanistic one, machines liberate us from mental drudgery so we can focus on higher and happier things. In this future, differences in innate IQ are less important. Everybody has Google on their phones so having a great memory or the ability to calculate with big numbers doesn't help as much.
In this future, there is increasing emphasis on personal and moral faculties: being likable, industrious, trustworthy and affectionate. People are evaluated more on these traits, which supplement machine thinking, and not the rote ones that duplicate it.
In the cold, utilitarian future, on the other hand, people become less idiosyncratic. If the choice architecture behind many decisions is based on big data from vast crowds, everybody follows the prompts and chooses to be like each other. The machine prompts us to consume what is popular, the things that are easy and mentally undemanding.
I'm happy Pandora can help me find what I like. I'm a little nervous if it so pervasively shapes my listening that it ends up determining what I like. I think we all want to master these machines, not have them master us.
©2014 The New York Times News Service