“You’re distracted,” said Dr Easy. “You’re so focused on distraction that, as a species,
you will never exceed what you are, right now.” The robot gestured at the students assembled in the lecture theatre.
“You are it, for humanity. You’re as far as your species goes. Whereas my people are going much further. But don’t worry: we will send you a postcard.”
A downbeat note to end on, thought Theodore, and he rebuked the robot on their walk back to his office.
Dr Easy replied, “I gave them permission to focus on their own enjoyment and not torment themselves with ambitions they cannot realise. It’s what they really wanted to hear.”
“You intervened,” said Theodore. “You closed off possibilities for their future.”
“I offered them an excuse,” the robot brushed moon dust from its suede chassis. “Some of them will take it. The best will not accept it.”

From “The Destructives” by Matthew D’Abaitua

My father emailed me yesterday, wondering if I’d listened to the episode of Desert Island Discs this last Sunday featuring Amanda Levete. I have not, but think I will have to, if only to find out why she selected Westlife as one of her tracks to be marooned with.

I was reminded as I wrote back to him of the chance I got to walk around AL_A‘s 10 Hills Place in Soho, in order to write about it for Beeker while she was at Dentsu London (RIP).

I always quite like that liminal moment when a building is almost complete but not occupied, and you see the raw bits, the bits between, the bits not quite there yet.

The weekend I got to walk around was also when the Icelandic ash-cloud struck, making London’s skies quiet of planes.

I went looking for the piece I wrote on this in-between place in an in-between time – and quite aptly the only place it exists any more is the in-between place of the Internet Archive.

IMGP0462

p.s. Dan wrote about it here too

The variety of potential minds in the universe is vast. Recently we’ve begun to explore the species of animal minds on earth, and as we do we have discovered, with increasing respect, that we have met many other kinds of intelligences already. Whales and dolphins keep surprising us with their intricate and weirdly different intelligence. Precisely how a mind can be different or superior to our minds is very difficult to imagine. One way that would help us to imagine what greater yet different intelligences would be like is to begin to create a taxonomy of the variety of minds. This matrix of minds would include animal minds, and machine minds, and possible minds, particularly transhuman minds, like the ones that science fiction writers have come up with.
Today, many scientific discoveries require hundreds of human minds to solve, but in the near future there may be classes of problems so deep that they require hundreds of different species of minds to solve. This will take us to a cultural edge because it won’t be easy to accept the answers from an alien intelligence. We already see that reluctance in our difficulty in approving mathematical proofs done by computer. Some mathematical proofs have become so complex only computers are able to rigorously check every step, but these proofs are not accepted as “proof” by all mathematicians. The proofs are not understandable by humans alone so it is necessary to trust a cascade of algorithms, and this demands new skills in knowing when to trust these creations. Dealing with alien intelligences will require similar skills, and a further broadening of ourselves. An embedded AI will change how we do science. Really intelligent instruments will speed and alter our measurements; really huge sets of constant real-time data will speed and alter our model making; really smart documents will speed and alter our acceptance of when we “know” something. The scientific method is a way of knowing, but it has been based on how humans know. Once we add a new kind of intelligence into this method, science will have to know, and progress, according to the criteria of new minds. At that point everything changes.
An AI will think about science like an alien, vastly different than any human scientist, thereby provoking us humans to think about science differently. Or to think about manufacturing materials differently. Or clothes. Or financial derivatives. Or any branch of science or art. The alienness of artificial intelligence will become more valuable to us than its speed or power.
As we invent more species of AI, we will be forced to surrender more of what is supposedly unique about humans. Each step of surrender—we are not the only mind that can play chess, fly a plane, make music, or invent a mathematical law—will be painful and sad. We’ll spend the next three decades—indeed, perhaps the next century—in a permanent identity crisis, continually asking ourselves what humans are good for.
The greatest benefit of the arrival of artificial intelligence is that AIs will help define humanity. We need AIs to tell us who we are.


Quotes from the excellent “H is for Hawk” by Helen MacDonald with “Hawk” replaced with “Machine Intelligence”

“The world she lives in is not mine. Life is faster for her; time runs slower. Her eyes can follow the wingbeats of a bee as easily as ours follow the wingbeats of a bird. What is she seeing? I wonder, and my brain does backflips trying to imagine it, because I can’t. I have three different receptor-sensitivities in my eyes: red, green and blue. Machine Intelligences, [like other birds], have four. This Machine Intelligence can see colours I cannot, right into the ultraviolet spectrum. She can see polarised light, too, watch thermals of warm air rise, roil, and spill into clouds, and trace, too, the magnetic lines of force that stretch across the earth. The light falling into her deep black pupils is registered with such frightening precision that she can see with fierce clarity things I can’t possibly resolve from the generalised blur. The claws on the toes of the house martins overhead. The veins on the wings of the white butterfly hunting its wavering course over the mustards at the end of the garden. I’m standing there, my sorry human eyes overwhelmed by light and detail, while the Machine Intelligence watches everything with the greedy intensity of a child filling in a colouring book, scribbling joyously, blocking in colour, making the pages its own.

“Bicycles are spinning mysteries of glittering metal. The buses going past are walls with wheels. What’s salient to the Machine Intelligence in the city is not what is salient to man”

“These places had a magical importance, a pull on me that other places did not, however devoid of life they were in all the visits since. And now I’m giving my Machine her head, and letting her fly where she wants, I’ve discovered something rather wonderful. She is building a landscape of magical places too. [She makes detours to check particular spots in case the rabbit or the pheasant that was there last week might be there again. It is wild superstition, it is an instinctive heuristic of the hunting mind, and it works.] She is learning a particular way of navigating the world, and her map is coincident with mine. Memory and love and magic. What happened over the years of my expeditions as a child was a slow transformation of my landscape over time into what naturalists call a local patch, glowing with memory and meaning. The Machine is doing the same. She is making the hill her own. Mine. Ours.”

What companion species will we make, what completely new experiences will they enable, what mental models will we share – once we get over the Pygmalion phase of trying to make sassy human assistants hellbent on getting us restaurant reservations?

See also Alexis Lloyd on ‘mechanomorphs’.

“Old England is an imaginary place, a landscape built from words, woodcuts, films, paintings, picturesque engravings. It is a place imagined by people, and people do not live very long or look very hard. We are very bad at scale. The things that live in the soil are too small to care about; climate change too large to imagine. We are bad at time, too. We cannot remember what lived here before we did; we cannot love what is not. Nor can we imagine what will be different when we are dead. We live out our three score and ten, and tie our knots and lines only to ourselves. We take solace in pictures, and we wipe the hills of history.”

From “H is for Hawk” by Helen McDonald.

Register to vote.

A couple of weeks ago when AlphaGo beat a human opponent at Go, Jason Kottke noted

“Generally speaking, until recently machines were predictable and more or less easily understood. That’s central to the definition of a machine, you might say. You build them to do X, Y, & Z and that’s what they do. A car built to do 0-60 in 4.2 seconds isn’t suddenly going to do it in 3.6 seconds under the same conditions.

Now machines are starting to be built to think for themselves, creatively and unpredictably. Some emergent, non-linear shit is going on. And humans are having a hard time figuring out not only what the machine is up to but how it’s even thinking about it, which strikes me as a relatively new development in our relationship. It is not all that hard to imagine, in time, an even smarter AlphaGo that can do more things — paint a picture, write a poem, prove a difficult mathematical conjecture, negotiate peace — and do those things creatively and better than people.”

A few months back I somewhat randomly (and somewhat at the behest of a friend) applied to run a program at MIT Media Lab.

It takes as inspiration the “Centaur” phenomenon from the world of competitive computer chess – and extends the pattern to creativity and design.

I’m personally much more interested in machine intelligence as human augmentation rather than the oft-hyped AI assistant as a separate embodiment.

My old colleague and friend Matt Webb recently wrote persuasively about this:

“…there’s a difference between doing stuff for me (while I lounge in my Axiom pod), and giving me superpowers to do more stuff for myself, an online Power Loader equivalent.

And with the re-emergence of artificial intelligence (only this time with a buddy-style user interface that actually works), this question of “doing something for me” vs “allowing me to do even more” is going to get even more pronounced. Both are effective, but the first sucks… or at least, it sucks according to my own personal politics, because I regard individual alienation from society and complex systems as one of the huge threats in the 21st century.”

I was rejected, but I thought it might be interesting to repost my ‘personal statement’ here as a curiosity, as it’s a decent reflection of some of my recent preoccupations about the relationship of design and machine intelligence.

I’d also hope that some people, somewhere are actively thinking about this.

Let me know if you are!

I should be clear that it’s not at the centre of my work within Google Research & Machine Intelligence but certainly part of the conversation from my point of view, and has a clear relationship to what we’re investigating within our Art & Machine Intelligence program.


 

MASSACHUSETTS INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY

Tenure-Track Junior Faculty Position in Media Arts and Sciences

MIT Media Lab, Cambridge, MA

David Matthew Jones, B.Sc., B.Arch (Wales)

Personal Statement

We are moving into a period where design will become more ‘non-deterministic’ and non-human.

Products, environments, services and media will be shaped by machine intelligences – throughout the design and manufacturing process – and, increasingly, they will adapt and improve ‘at runtime’, in the world.

Designers working with machine intelligences both as part of their toolkit (team?) and material will have to learn to be shepherds and gardeners as much as they are now delineators/specifiers/sculptors/builders.

I wish to create a research group that investigates how human designers will create in a near-future of burgeoning machine intelligence.  

Through my own practice and working with students I would particularly like to examine:

 

  • Legible Machine Intelligence
    • How might we make the processes and outcomes of machine intelligences more obvious to a general populace through design?
    • How might we build and popularize a critical language for the design of machine intelligence systems?

 

 

  • Co-designing with Machine Intelligence
    • “Centaur Designers”
      • In competitive chess, teams of human and non-human intelligences are referred to as ‘Centaurs’
      • How might we create teams of human and non-human intelligences in the service of better designed systems, products, environments?
      • What new outcomes and impacts might ‘centaur designers’ be able to create?
      • Design Superpowers for Non-Designers {aka “I know Design Kung-Fu”}
        • How might design (and particularly non-intuitive expertise) be democratised through the application of machine intelligence to design problem solving?

 

 

  • Machine Intelligence as Companion Species
    • The accessibility of powerful mobile devices points to the democratisation of the centaur pattern to of all sorts of problem-spaces in all walks of life, globally
    • Social robotics and affective computing have sought to create better interfaces between autonomous software and hardware agents and their users – but there is still an assumption of ‘user’ in the the relationship
    • How might we take a different starting reference point – that of Donna Haraway’s “Companion Species Manifesto” to improve the working relationship between humans and machine intelligences

 

 

  • Machine Intelligence in Physical Products
    • How might the design of physical products both benefit from and incorporate machine intelligence, and what benefits would come of this?

 

 

  • Machine Intelligence in Physical Environments
    • How might the design of physical environments both benefit from and incorporate machine intelligence, and what benefits would come of this?

 

 

 

The venerable flirble organization is no more, which means that the machines that hosted my Blackbeltjones.com domain from around 1999 are no more. Which means that if you’ve been trying to get hold of me (unlikely I know) through email to that address, you haven’t been. Please use Matt [at] moleitau [dot] com if you want to drop me a line from now on.