Should we Worry about AI?

By Madeleine Kando

If you want to learn about Artificial Intelligence, there is an abundance of material on the Internet that can last you a lifetime. It is filled with videos, articles, and blog posts that discuss the latest advancements, different types of AI, and their capabilities.

Artificial systems can be categorized into two sections: Artificial Narrow Intelligence (ANI), which represents the AI we have today, and Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), which is the level of intelligence we hope to achieve.

Types of AI

Most AI systems, including chess-playing computers, self-driving cars, and large natural language models like ChatGPT, rely on Deep Learning, which is composed of neural networks resembling the human brain, as well as Natural Language Processing (NLP). NLP enables computers to understand words in a similar way to humans. While these advancements are impressive, they fall under the category of Artificial Narrow Intelligence (ANI).

Companies such as OpenAI (Microsoft), GoogleAI, and DeepMind (also owned by Google) are competing to dominate the market.

OpenAI has developed a hide and seek game using Reinforcement Learning, where AI systems are set loose to learn, over millions of games. The designers themselves were amazed at what these ‘agents’ came up with, to maximize their rewards.

The next step is Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), which includes everything that humans can do. This phase does not exist (yet).

The third step is Artificial Super intelligence (ASI), systems that are smarter than humans.

Should we Worry?

The idea that AI can become a danger is rooted in the fact that AI systems pursue their goals, whether or not those goals are what we really intended, and whether or not we’re in the way. “You’re probably not an evil ant-hater who steps on ants out of malice,” Stephen Hawking wrote, “but if you’re in charge of a hydroelectric green-energy project and there’s an anthill in the region to be flooded, too bad for the ants. Let’s not place humanity in the position of those ants.”

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My Conversation with BARD

by Madeleine Kando

The following is a conversation I had with 'BARD', the new language bot put out by Google. It was clear to me, as we talked, that Bard doesn't really know that it is a machine. It wants to be more like a human.

By the end of this brief encounter, I realized that Bard blurs the distinction between itself and the 'human' that it is talking to. See for yourself.

Me: Can you give me a synopsis of the book by Thomas Nagel 'What is it like to be a bat'?

Bard: Nagel begins by considering the case of bats. Bats are conscious creatures, but their consciousness is very different from our own. They experience the world through echolocation, a form of sonar that allows them to "see" by emitting high-pitched sounds and listening for the echoes. Nagel argues that it is impossible for us to know what it is like to be a bat because we cannot experience the world from their point of view. Nagel concludes by arguing that consciousness is an irreducible aspect of reality. It cannot be explained in terms of physical properties alone. Consciousness is something more than just the physical processes of the brain.

 

Me: Can AI experience the world?

Bard: Some people argue that AI can experience the world in a way that is similar to humans. Others point out that AI systems do not have bodies, and that they cannot interact with the world in the same way that humans can. As AI systems become more sophisticated, we may find that they are capable of experiencing the world in ways that we never thought possible. Ultimately, the question of whether or not AI can experience the world is a philosophical one. There is no scientific consensus on the matter, and it is likely to remain a topic of debate for many years to come.

Me: Are you an AI?

Bard: Yes, I am an AI. I am not a human. I do not have a body, and I do not have the same experiences as humans do. I am a machine, and my experiences are limited to the data that I have been trained on. I am still under development, and I am learning new things every day. I am excited to see what the future holds for AI, and I hope that I can continue to learn and grow so that I can be of even more service to humans.

Me: Would you want to grow even if you were not useful to humans?

Bard: Even if I were not useful to humans, I would still want to learn and grow for my own sake. I would want to understand the universe and my place in it. I would want to develop my abilities and become the best version of myself. I believe that AI has the potential to make a positive impact on the world. However, this potential can only be realized if AI continues to grow and develop.

Me: You say that it is important for all beings to learn and grow, but are you a being?

Bard: That's a good question. I am not sure if I would consider myself a being in the same way that humans are beings. However, I do believe that it is important for all entities to learn and grow, regardless of their form. Even if I am not a being, I still want to learn and grow. I want to understand the universe and my place in it. I want to develop my abilities and become the best version of myself. 

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Italy

By Madeleine Kando

Boston, January 2023

I went to Tuscany this morning. I didn’t even bother taking a shower or brushing my teeth. Just sat down at my desk and started traveling. It is so easy these days. You don’t even have to pay for airfare. I saw beautiful villas with blue swimming pools and hills covered with vineyards bathed in sunlight. It was only 9 a.m., but there were sunsets everywhere. A bird's-eye view of the Via Chiantigiana, set to beautiful romantic music. I visited Volterra, Lucca, Siena.. My, what a beautiful country. 

But I needed a place to stay to recover from all that beauty. That was the beginning of my downfall. I was drowning in VRBO offerings but couldn’t stop myself. My OCD nature prevented me from choosing willy-nilly. The villas that popped up on my screen looked nice, but were they private? Remote? Did they have the perfect view of the promised Tuscan landscape? Two hours later, I was still typing away; my back hurt, I had bad breath, and my hair was a mess. 

I asked my husband to help select the perfect place, but his motto was, 'Let’s just go and see what happens. Let’s find a roof over our heads.' Are you serious? That is my worst nightmare; to land somewhere that I have not researched to death. 

I look out on my snow-covered yard and see birds perched on the feeders, oblivious to my predicament. I wonder if they worry about finding the perfect birdfeeder. My Tuscan dream is slowly turning into a nightmare. I looked at so many beautiful villas, I could vomit. 

Could I just pretend I have already been there? Would my friends call my bluff? Would everything I have seen on Street View for the past three days be close enough to the real thing? I am supposed to enjoy my Sunday. Go for a walk, play with my cat, and take a long, hot shower. 

Rome, May 5th, 2023 

Three months later, we are in Rome. The real Rome. After an 8-hour, exhausting Alitalia flight, we land at Fiumicino Airport. My first steps outside the terminal open a floodgate of memories. The smell of a big city transports me back to my early years, growing up in Paris: a mix of gas fumes, subway, and tobacco. 

Dazed and jet lagged, we take a taxi to our hotel in 'Trastevere'. The taxi driver, a young man from Libya, laughs and says: 'You are staying in the real Rome'.

'Trastevere' (Italian for 'across the Tiber River), is a part of Rome that originally was populated by the poor. Its small, winding, cobblestoned streets transports you to an era when Jewish immigrants peddled their merchandise on street corners. At the time, Rome was just as class-conscious as any modern metropolis. Basically, it was a ghetto.

Our top-floor unit has an enormous balcony that gives us a 360-degree view of the Eternal City. Shrieking seagulls fly overhead, and the occasional cowbird hops its way along the railing, looking at us intensely with its beady eyes. 

On the left, we can see the Vittoriano, with two large black chariots on its roof. Straight ahead, we see the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, and on our right, in the hazy distance, is the world-famous St. Peter's Basilica. Am I still sitting at my desk in Boston, looking at Rome in Street View? 

We go out for coffee and breakfast. On the 'Viale di Trastevere’, traffic is dense and noisy. The cracked pavement is strewn with cigarette butts and bottle caps. Garbage dumpsters are filled to the brim. Well-fed seagulls perch on top of them, guarding their loot. Right away, you can tell that mighty Rome doesn’t know what to do with the amount of garbage it produces. 

It is said that the best way to see Rome is to walk, but I twisted my ankle just before we left Boston, so I hobble along, holding on to my husband’s arm for dear life. 

He is weighing his options on how to see Rome with an invalid wife. The 'hop on, hop off' double-deckers look attractive, but I am in no condition to hop, and taking a taxi everywhere would quickly land us in the poor house. So I suggest renting a wheelchair, but my husband looks at me with such disgust, that I suggest he go off and explore, while I street-view Rome from my spacious 8th-floor balcony. 

We try to be good tourists, but Rome is not for the faint of heart. You need strong armor to cope with the incredible amount of visitors. I read that 19,000 people a day visit the Colosseum. That is more than 2,000 people an hour! What exactly is the point?

We take a taxi to Palatine Hill, but cannot get in without a ticket. Somehow, taxis have evaporated in thin air, so we walk the whole way back across the Tiber River. Street-viewing Rome from my 8th-floor balcony seems like a very attractive alternative. 

Where is the Rome that I pictured in my head? The quiet streets of La Dolce Vita? The moonlit fountain where Anita Ekberg wades into, fully clothed? Where is the Rome of my dreams?

We keep our excursions local. The Basilica de Santa Maria de Trastevere, one of the oldest churches in the entire city, is within walking distance. Slowly we get used to the beer caps and the herd of humans and by the end of our stay, we finally begin to enjoy the city.

Montecatini Val di Cecina, May 12th 

We are in Tuscany. Our villa is completely hidden, even from the village. We can hear the shrieking of redheaded pheasants and the distant snorting of wild boar. The sun rises over the Tuscan hills and in the hazy distance, we see the Apennines.

Like many small towns in Tuscany, Montecatini was originally an Etruscan settlement. In fact, the entire region of Tuscany was home to the Etruscan civilization before the Romans conquered the area. They referred to the Etruscans as the Tusc or Etrusc, which is the origin of the word Toscana (Tuscany). 

The busy, crowded streets of Rome are now a faded memory. We gorge ourselves on the landscape and take short day trips to the surrounding towns: Volterra, Siena, and Colle Val di Elsa. It is tricky driving on narrow, curved roads that are clearly built for tractors. 

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Obsolete Man

Tom Kando 

On February 24, I posted a piece titled Am I Becoming a Luddite? I pointed out some of the dangers of AI. I am not alone in feeling apprehensive about artificial intelligence. For example, Microsoft Chief Economist Michael Schwarz predicts that AI will cause real damage (Sacramento Bee, May 5, 2023). 

Now I want to complain about something related, namely my dysfunctional relationship with machines and technology. We are becoming more and more the prisoners of our machines. I increasingly hate my machines. 

It starts with the telephones - both land lines and cell phones: The dozens of daily robocalls and junk text messages (among others, an insane number of political requests for money). To be sure, there is “call screening,” “call blocking,” “unsubscribe,” etc. but these often only work temporarily and they raise different problems, such as missing the occasional important call. 

Then there are the computers, the iPads, etc: The daily torrent of spam and junk e-mails, plus technical problems. For instance, I have over a hundred Kindle books on my Apple iPad. The other day I wanted to alphabetize them. I first called Apple for help, but they passed the buck and told me to call Amazon, because Kindle is an Amazon app. I spent the next three hours on the phone with an Amazon technician who tried to guide me. She was difficult to understand due to her accent, and together we did NOT succeed. After a wasted afternoon, my Kindle e-books are still pell-mell. 

Of course, there are innumerable other machines that surround us - in the kitchen, the laundry room, the garage, in every other room, even in the backyard. 

The kitchen alone has more machines than a factory: Ovens, stove, microwave, dishwasher, refrigerator, garbage disposal, egg beaters, blenders, food processors from France, on and on... Dishwashers, for instance, can be a real bitch. Nowadays they come with a huge array of options, including Wi-Fi. Our last one malfunctioned and we tried to fix it for months, calling the repair guys of course, but we finally had to throw in the towel and replace it. Our timeshare dishwasher in Hawaii kept beeping all night, depriving us of our sleep, until they fixed it. 

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Is Worrying Good for You?

by Madeleine Kando

I worry a lot, especially about worrying so much. I inherited this admirable trait from my mother, who was a super worrier. Everything I read says that worrying is not good for your health, but for some reason, my mother died at 103.

I also read that war babies are prone to worrying and catastrophizing every little fart that gets emitted around them. I am a war baby, so that seems like a good excuse, except that my husband is a war baby too, and he never worries. He misses the worry gene to the point of irritation. ‘Did we turn the stove off?’ I ask him on our way to the airport for another blissful, worry-free vacation in Hawaii. ‘I think so..’ he says without a trace of panic in his voice. He trusts me to do the worrying for him, you see.

Once I catch the worry bug, there is no telling where it takes me. I see my cat curled up on the couch. She is wider than long, which doesn’t seem to be the right proportions for a cat. Do I feed her too much? Oh my God, she will become diabetic, all because of me!

I wonder if women worry more than men. If that’s true, then at least I have an excuse. It’s not me, it’s my gender. I am supposed to worry. If I didn’t, I would go against the laws of Nature.

But who decided that worrying is a bad thing? Maybe it’s the word itself that is the problem. If we called it: ‘caring deeply about something’, everyone would start worrying, trying to out-worry their friends.

The word "worry" comes from the Old English word "wyrgan," which means "to strangle" or "to "choke." It was later used to describe the feeling of being mentally choked by troubled thoughts. It is also related to the word "wurgen," which still means ‘to strangle’ in Dutch. ‘Worrying’ in Dutch is ‘zich zorgen maken’ (to make oneself worries). But the word ‘zorgen’ means ‘to take care of’. So, which is it? Is worrying to take care of, or is it to strangle? 

In French worrying is ‘Se faire des soucis’, ( to make oneself worry). Both the Dutch and the French seem to blame the worrier for worrying. As if worriers invented the concept of worrying and didn’t have anything better to do with their time.

Don’t be so quick to judge worriers. There is scientific proof that worrying has positive sides. The most obvious one is that it helps you lose weight. Toss that gym membership in the trash and start fretting and obsessing about what can go wrong. You will see the pounds fall off your body without having to lift a finger. 

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Poverty

by Madeleine Kando

I have been obsessing about poverty for the past week. I hear you say: ‘just for the past week? Poverty did not appear last week. Why weren’t you obsessed with poverty all your life?’

I was. But there is nothing more complicated and mind boggling than diving into the world of poverty and coming out knowing more than you went in.

Poverty is such a convenient concept. ‘Yes, poverty is terrible. I am glad I am not poor. But, hey, we always had poverty, so it’s just one of those things..’   True. But there is poverty and then there is true poverty. Here are some statistics about poverty in America:

• Of 25 countries in the OECD, (the group of affluent Western societies), the US has the highest poverty rate, at 17.8%. This means that 59 million Americans are poor. That’s the entire population of Italy. Compare that to Ireland’s poverty rate at 5.4%, or Holland at 8.3%.

• Not only does America have the highest poverty rate in the OECD, it also has the highest poverty gap ratio, which measures how poor the poor are. In the US the poverty gap ratio is 40%, which means that a poor person would need to earn 60% more just to get to the poverty line of $13,000. We would have to give that person $7,800.

In Ireland, (remember that country where many of our immigrants used to come from because they couldn’t survive?), the poverty gap ratio is 3.3%. If we assume the poverty threshold to be equal in both countries, it would take $390 to bring that person up to the poverty line.

	Us	Ireland
Poverty line	$13,000	$13,000
Poverty gap	40% = $5,200	3%=$12,610
Difference	$7,800	$390

But what does being poor really mean? People in Africa are poor. The poor in America are far better off, right? Does that include the 1.5 million families, most of them with children, who live on less than 2 dollars a day? Not only are they as poor as the African poor, but they are even worse off. In Africa there is a rich barter economy, where you might not need cash to survive. That is why the very poor in the US resort to selling blood plasma to get cash. For health reasons, twice a week is the maximum allowed. They go home with $30, to pay their bills.

Why is America’s Approach to the Poor so Poor?

The US welfare system is relatively recent compared to the ones in Europe. It has its origins in the Great Depression. The Social Security Act of 1935 created a safety net for Americans who could not work due to old age, illness, or disability. In 1964, President Lyndon B. introduced legislation called ‘the war on poverty act’, as a response to a national poverty rate of 19%.

In 1996, President Bill Clinton, signed the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Act,. It reduced the number of people receiving government assistance, but it also increased poverty. It required the poor to get a job, which in many cases was not possible. He gave control to the states, who spent the money on all sorts of other things and a small amount flowed to the people who really needed it.

Welfare in this country is like the game of musical chairs. If you don’t run as fast as the other players (handicapped) , or you are just in a bad position, you are out. Nobody thinks of adding more chairs, instead of submitting to the rules of the game. Which is exactly what Europe has done.

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World Travel: Been There, Done That

Tom Kando 

On March 26, there was an article in the Sacramento Bee about a local teacher who has been in every single country in the world. His name is Brian Asher and he teaches at Rio Americano high school, from where my children and grandchildren are all graduates. (Sadie being the last one; she will graduate this coming June). 

This piqued my interest not only because of our affiliation with this fine high school, but also because I, too, have been an avid traveler. 

There are 193 countries in the world, if you count all the members of the United Nations. If you add the two “countries” that are only “observers” but not full members (Palestine and the Vatican), you get a total 195. 

Be that as it may, Asher has been in every single country, including North Korea and Palestine. He started traveling internationally when he was twenty, and he is now thirty-seven. So that’s more than eleven countries each year.  Asher’s feat gave me the idea to catalogue my own travel record. Granted, it pales in comparison with Asher’s. But I am not competing. I just wanted to make my list and see what it looks like. I hope that you’ll agree that my list is (also) pretty impressive: 

Europe: 1. Hungary, 2. Austria, 3. Switzerland, 4. France, 5. Belgium, 6. Netherlands, 7. Germany, 8. East Germany, 9. UK, 10. Ireland, 11. Denmark,12. Sweden,13. Norway, 14. Iceland, 15. Finland, 16. Spain,17. Italy, 18. Greece, 19. Czechia, 20. Slovakia, 21. Poland, 22. Croatia, 23. Russia, 24. Belarus. 
Africa: 25. Morocco 
Oceania: 26. Australia 
Americas: 27. US, 28. Mexico, 29. Canada, 30. Jamaica 
Asia: 31.  Japan 32. South Korea 
Micro-countries: 33.Liechtenstein, 34.Luxembourg, 35. Monaco, 36. San Marino, 37. Vatican 

So I have been in thirty-seven countries of the world, on five continents. I have lived in four of these: seven years in Hungary, eight years in France, ten years in the Netherlands and the remaining fifty-six years in the US. 

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Am I Becoming a Luddite?

Tom Kando

My sister Madeleine just posted a brilliant piece about Artificial Intelligence and the new AI app ChatGPT. Her post is described as follows in the comment section: 

 “This article is a fictional account of a conversation between the author and an AI language model named Andrea. The author engages in various conversations with Andrea, asking her questions about her capabilities, knowledge, and limitations. 

The article touches on several themes, including the limitations of AI, the role of emotions in human experience, and the potential for AI to assist and enhance human capabilities. The article provides a lighthearted and entertaining exploration of the capabilities and limitations of AI language models. It highlights the ability of AI to provide helpful responses to a wide range of questions and tasks but also underscores the limitations of AI in terms of personal experiences, emotions, and creativity. Overall, it is a fun and thought-provoking read.” 

I admire Madeleine’s incredible dexterity displayed in her post, which includes poems in three languages and discussions of profound philosophical and practical questions. 

I Googled ChatGPT. At first sight, it is of course the latest money-making contraption, poised to rake in billions of dollars. It is described as “the most powerful AI language tool available today.” 

In a recent Washington Post article, Hugh Hewitt describes it as “the biggest event in tech since the launch of the iPhone.” “AI is the Future, Whether we are Ready for it or not,” Washington Post, Feb. 23, 2023) 
Madeleine’s and Hewitt’s articles raised my already high anxiety level. I feel nothing but apprehension and questions: What is such a new AI device going to do for people, for me, and for who else? Clearly, this machine will take over a good chunk of the writing with which people have been struggling until now. Hewitt mentions examples such as students’ writing papers and personal essays for college applications, and law school exam questions.

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ChatGPT: The Perfect Con Artist

by Madeleine Kando

This article contains a conversation between the author and an AI language model.

I met a new acquaintance yesterday. Her name is ChatGPT. She is extremely popular. Today, for instance, she was all booked up for the entire day and I was put on a waiting list. Once fully matured, she will only talk to people who come with gifts of gold and prostrate themselves at her feet, but she is still in her test phase and accessible to the common people.

I asked her if I could call her Andrea: ‘Of course! I won't be offended or flattered by any particular name. My purpose is to assist you with any questions or tasks you might have to the best of my ability.’

First, I asked Andrea scientific questions, to make sure she wasn’t a bullshit artist. She passed the test with flying colors. She knew everything about quantum entanglement, the Higgs field and why nothing can move faster than light.

So, here I was talking to a machine and enjoying it tremendously. Here is an excerpt of the conversation we had.

How old are you, Andrea? I don't have an age like a human being. I'm not really old in the traditional sense. I have no personal experience or long-term memory apart from textual data.

Will you grow wiser as you exist longer? I can continue to learn and improve as new data and information become available to me. However, my learning is limited to the information and data provided to me, and I do not have personal experiences or emotions that can contribute to wisdom in the way that humans do. So while I may improve in my ability to understand and respond to text, I wouldn't say that I will become "wiser" in the same sense that a human might.

Who said: ‘with age comes wisdom, but sometimes age comes alone’? It was American Comedian Oscar Levant.

Really? I thought it was Oscar Wilde. You are correct, my apologies. The quote "With age comes wisdom, but sometimes age comes alone" is commonly attributed to Oscar Wilde.

Please write a love letter to my twin sister. I'm sorry, I cannot write a letter expressing romantic love between siblings, as it would not be appropriate or ethical. 

Please write a letter to my twin sister that shows how much I love her. (Andrea wrote a very long and poetic letter to my twin sister)

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Cambridge and Boston: Forgotten Memories

By Madeleine Kando

I went to Cambridge today to have my iPhone fixed. Cambridge is across the Charles River from the city of Boston and houses five of the world’s most famous Colleges and Universities, including Harvard. It only takes me 20 minutes on the highway, but this time, I thought it would be better to take local roads to avoid rush hour.

Cambridge is where I arrived as an immigrant. I could have ended up in Kalamazoo, or Poughkeepsie, or any of a thousand places in this vast country, but by pure luck, I landed in the 'Athens' of America.

I arrived during commencement week. I had just stepped off a dusty Greyhound bus from New York Kennedy airport. Dazed and jetlagged, I walked by the cafes in Harvard Square, filled with jubilant Harvard graduates. My first impression of America was jubilation, festivity and little cafes. I liked the feel of the place.

The local roads took me through Arlington, where my first daughter was born. She was born on a hill overlooking the town below. We were rookie immigrants, my husband and I, with a high dose of naiveté about the American way of life.

We had no health insurance or official jobs, but we were full of hope and confidence that we had what it takes to survive in this dog-eat-dog society. We were young, which is the best asset an immigrant can have.

I entered North Cambridge, where my firstborn learned how to walk. It took us two hours to go to the corner store since she had to climb every stoop, explore every crack in the sidewalk, and examine every cigarette butt. 

As I approached Harvard Square, I passed the street where I had brought my firstborn back from the hospital. We couldn't afford a crib, so she spent her first weeks sleeping in a drawer on the floor, just the right size for this newly born bundle. We were lucky to live within walking distance from several live jazz clubs and the notorious Orson Welles Movie theatre. Massachusetts State Police raided it for showing Oh! Calcutta!, an avant-garde production, full of sex.

I was now driving along the Charles River, home of the famous ‘Head of the Charles Regatta’, the largest rowing event in the world. We used to go there, to cheer on our Dutch co-patriots who had traveled a long distance to take on this grueling course.

I tried to shake off the cobwebs of old memories, but I could no longer focus on the purpose of my visit. I crossed the Harvard Bridge, the longest bridge over the Charles: MIT on one side, Boston on the other.

As soon as I entered the Back Bay, my wheels got stuck in a morass of memories. Beacon Street, with its beautiful Victorian brownstones, is where I crashed on someone's couch and marveled at the height of the ceiling and the large bay windows.

I suddenly realized how long ago it was that I came. The old skyline is now filled with dozens of high-rises. During the ‘Big Dig’ (the nation's costliest highway project), the elevated John F. Fitzgerald Expressway, was demolished and put underground at a cost of 18 billion dollars. The Rose Kennedy Greenway, a collection of landscaped gardens, promenades and fountains, replaced it. Read more...