Tag Archives: believe

#436484 If Machines Want to Make Art, Will ...

Assuming that the emergence of consciousness in artificial minds is possible, those minds will feel the urge to create art. But will we be able to understand it? To answer this question, we need to consider two subquestions: when does the machine become an author of an artwork? And how can we form an understanding of the art that it makes?

Empathy, we argue, is the force behind our capacity to understand works of art. Think of what happens when you are confronted with an artwork. We maintain that, to understand the piece, you use your own conscious experience to ask what could possibly motivate you to make such an artwork yourself—and then you use that first-person perspective to try to come to a plausible explanation that allows you to relate to the artwork. Your interpretation of the work will be personal and could differ significantly from the artist’s own reasons, but if we share sufficient experiences and cultural references, it might be a plausible one, even for the artist. This is why we can relate so differently to a work of art after learning that it is a forgery or imitation: the artist’s intent to deceive or imitate is very different from the attempt to express something original. Gathering contextual information before jumping to conclusions about other people’s actions—in art, as in life—can enable us to relate better to their intentions.

But the artist and you share something far more important than cultural references: you share a similar kind of body and, with it, a similar kind of embodied perspective. Our subjective human experience stems, among many other things, from being born and slowly educated within a society of fellow humans, from fighting the inevitability of our own death, from cherishing memories, from the lonely curiosity of our own mind, from the omnipresence of the needs and quirks of our biological body, and from the way it dictates the space- and time-scales we can grasp. All conscious machines will have embodied experiences of their own, but in bodies that will be entirely alien to us.

We are able to empathize with nonhuman characters or intelligent machines in human-made fiction because they have been conceived by other human beings from the only subjective perspective accessible to us: “What would it be like for a human to behave as x?” In order to understand machinic art as such—and assuming that we stand a chance of even recognizing it in the first place—we would need a way to conceive a first-person experience of what it is like to be that machine. That is something we cannot do even for beings that are much closer to us. It might very well happen that we understand some actions or artifacts created by machines of their own volition as art, but in doing so we will inevitably anthropomorphize the machine’s intentions. Art made by a machine can be meaningfully interpreted in a way that is plausible only from the perspective of that machine, and any coherent anthropomorphized interpretation will be implausibly alien from the machine perspective. As such, it will be a misinterpretation of the artwork.

But what if we grant the machine privileged access to our ways of reasoning, to the peculiarities of our perception apparatus, to endless examples of human culture? Wouldn’t that enable the machine to make art that a human could understand? Our answer is yes, but this would also make the artworks human—not authentically machinic. All examples so far of “art made by machines” are actually just straightforward examples of human art made with computers, with the artists being the computer programmers. It might seem like a strange claim: how can the programmers be the authors of the artwork if, most of the time, they can’t control—or even anticipate—the actual materializations of the artwork? It turns out that this is a long-standing artistic practice.

Suppose that your local orchestra is playing Beethoven’s Symphony No 7 (1812). Even though Beethoven will not be directly responsible for any of the sounds produced there, you would still say that you are listening to Beethoven. Your experience might depend considerably on the interpretation of the performers, the acoustics of the room, the behavior of fellow audience members or your state of mind. Those and other aspects are the result of choices made by specific individuals or of accidents happening to them. But the author of the music? Ludwig van Beethoven. Let’s say that, as a somewhat odd choice for the program, John Cage’s Imaginary Landscape No 4 (March No 2) (1951) is also played, with 24 performers controlling 12 radios according to a musical score. In this case, the responsibility for the sounds being heard should be attributed to unsuspecting radio hosts, or even to electromagnetic fields. Yet, the shaping of sounds over time—the composition—should be credited to Cage. Each performance of this piece will vary immensely in its sonic materialization, but it will always be a performance of Imaginary Landscape No 4.

Why should we change these principles when artists use computers if, in these respects at least, computer art does not bring anything new to the table? The (human) artists might not be in direct control of the final materializations, or even be able to predict them but, despite that, they are the authors of the work. Various materializations of the same idea—in this case formalized as an algorithm—are instantiations of the same work manifesting different contextual conditions. In fact, a common use of computation in the arts is the production of variations of a process, and artists make extensive use of systems that are sensitive to initial conditions, external inputs, or pseudo-randomness to deliberately avoid repetition of outputs. Having a computer executing a procedure to build an artwork, even if using pseudo-random processes or machine-learning algorithms, is no different than throwing dice to arrange a piece of music, or to pursuing innumerable variations of the same formula. After all, the idea of machines that make art has an artistic tradition that long predates the current trend of artworks made by artificial intelligence.

Machinic art is a term that we believe should be reserved for art made by an artificial mind’s own volition, not for that based on (or directed towards) an anthropocentric view of art. From a human point of view, machinic artworks will still be procedural, algorithmic, and computational. They will be generative, because they will be autonomous from a human artist. And they might be interactive, with humans or other systems. But they will not be the result of a human deferring decisions to a machine, because the first of those—the decision to make art—needs to be the result of a machine’s volition, intentions, and decisions. Only then will we no longer have human art made with computers, but proper machinic art.

The problem is not whether machines will or will not develop a sense of self that leads to an eagerness to create art. The problem is that if—or when—they do, they will have such a different Umwelt that we will be completely unable to relate to it from our own subjective, embodied perspective. Machinic art will always lie beyond our ability to understand it because the boundaries of our comprehension—in art, as in life—are those of the human experience.

This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons.

Image Credit: Rene Böhmer / Unsplash Continue reading

Posted in Human Robots

#436215 Help Rescuers Find Missing Persons With ...

There’s a definite sense that robots are destined to become a critical part of search and rescue missions and disaster relief efforts, working alongside humans to help first responders move faster and more efficiently. And we’ve seen all kinds of studies that include the claim “this robot could potentially help with disaster relief,” to varying degrees of plausibility.

But it takes a long time, and a lot of extra effort, for academic research to actually become anything useful—especially for first responders, where there isn’t a lot of financial incentive for further development.

It turns out that if you actually ask first responders what they most need for disaster relief, they’re not necessarily interested in the latest and greatest robotic platform or other futuristic technology. They’re using commercial off-the-shelf drones, often consumer-grade ones, because they’re simple and cheap and great at surveying large areas. The challenge is doing something useful with all of the imagery that these drones collect. Computer vision algorithms could help with that, as long as those algorithms are readily accessible and nearly effortless to use.

The IEEE Robotics and Automation Society and the Center for Robotic-Assisted Search and Rescue (CRASAR) at Texas A&M University have launched a contest to bridge this gap between the kinds of tools that roboticists and computer vision researchers might call “basic” and a system that’s useful to first responders in the field. It’s a simple and straightforward idea, and somewhat surprising that no one had thought of it before now. And if you can develop such a system, it’s worth some cash.

CRASAR does already have a Computer Vision Emergency Response Toolkit (created right after Hurricane Harvey), which includes a few pixel filters and some edge and corner detectors. Through this contest, you can get paid your share of a $3,000 prize pool for adding some other excessively basic tools, including:

Image enhancement through histogram equalization, which can be applied to electro-optical (visible light cameras) and thermal imagery

Color segmentation for a range

Grayscale segmentation for a range in a thermal image

If it seems like this contest is really not that hard, that’s because it isn’t. “The first thing to understand about this contest is that strictly speaking, it’s really not that hard,” says Robin Murphy, director of CRASAR. “This contest isn’t necessarily about coming up with algorithms that are brand new, or even state-of-the-art, but rather algorithms that are functional and reliable and implemented in a way that’s immediately [usable] by inexperienced users in the field.”

Murphy readily admits that some of what needs to be done is not particularly challenging at all, but that’s not the point—the point is to make these functionalities accessible to folks who have better things to do than solve these problems themselves, as Murphy explains.

“A lot of my research is driven by problems that I’ve seen in the field that you’d think somebody would have solved, but apparently not. More than half of this is available in OpenCV, but who’s going to find it, download it, learn Python, that kind of thing? We need to get these tools into an open framework. We’re happy if you take libraries that already exist (just don’t steal code)—not everything needs to be rewritten from scratch. Just use what’s already there. Some of it may seem too simple, because it IS that simple. It already exists and you just need to move some code around.”

If you want to get very slightly more complicated, there’s a second category that involves a little bit of math:

Coders must provide a system that does the following for each nadir image in a set:

Reads the geotag embedded in the .jpg
Overlays a USNG grid for a user-specified interval (e.g., every 50, 100, or 200 meters)
Gives the GPS coordinates of each pixel if a cursor is rolled over the image
Given a set of images with the GPS or USNG coordinate and a bounding box, finds all images in the set that have a pixel intersecting that location

The final category awards prizes to anyone who comes up with anything else that turns out to be useful. Or, more specifically, “entrants can submit any algorithm they believe will be of value.” Whether or not it’s actually of value will be up to a panel of judges that includes both first responders and computer vision experts. More detailed rules can be found here, along with sample datasets that you can use for testing.

The contest deadline is 16 December, so you’ve got about a month to submit an entry. Winners will be announced at the beginning of January. Continue reading

Posted in Human Robots

#436200 AI and the Future of Work: The Economic ...

This week at MIT, academics and industry officials compared notes, studies, and predictions about AI and the future of work. During the discussions, an insurance company executive shared details about one AI program that rolled out at his firm earlier this year. A chatbot the company introduced, the executive said, now handles 150,000 calls per month.

Later in the day, a panelist—David Fanning, founder of PBS’s Frontline—remarked that this statistic is emblematic of broader fears he saw when reporting a new Frontline documentary about AI. “People are scared,” Fanning said of the public’s AI anxiety.

Fanning was part of a daylong symposium about AI’s economic consequences—good, bad, and otherwise—convened by MIT’s Task Force on the Work of the Future.

“Dig into every industry, and you’ll find AI changing the nature of work,” said Daniela Rus, director of MIT’s Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory (CSAIL). She cited recent McKinsey research that found 45 percent of the work people are paid to do today can be automated with currently available technologies. Those activities, McKinsey found, represent some US $2 trillion in wages.

However, the threat of automation—whether by AI or other technologies—isn’t as new as technologists on America’s coasts seem to believe, said panelist Fred Goff, CEO of Jobcase, Inc.

“If you live in Detroit or Toledo, where I come from, technology has been displacing jobs for the last half-century,” Goff said. “I don’t think that most people in this country have the increased anxiety that the coasts do, because they’ve been living this.”

Goff added that the challenge AI poses for the workforce is not, as he put it, “getting coal miners to code.” Rather, he said, as AI automates some jobs, it will also open opportunities for “reskilling” that may have nothing to do with AI or automation. He touted trade schools—teaching skills like welding, plumbing, and electrical work—and certification programs for sales industry software packages like Salesforce.

On the other hand, a documentarian who reported another recent program on AI—Krishna Andavolu, senior correspondent for Vice Media—said “reskilling” may not be an easy answer.

“People in rooms like this … don’t realize that a lot of people don’t want to work that much,” Andavolu said. “They’re not driven by passion for their career, they’re driven by passion for life. We’re telling a lot of these workers that they need to reskill. But to a lot of people that sounds like, ‘I’ve got to work twice as hard for what I have now.’ That sounds scary. We underestimate that at our peril.”

Part of the problem with “reskilling,” Andavolu said, is that some high-growth industries involve caregiving for seniors and in medical facilities—roles which are traditionally considered “feminized” careers. Destigmatizing these jobs, and increasing the pay to match the salaries of displaced jobs like long-haul truck drivers, is another challenge.

Daron Acemoglu, MIT Institute Professor of Economics, faulted the comparably slim funding of academic research into AI.

“There is nothing preordained about the progress of technology,” he said. Computers, the Internet, antibiotics, and sensors all grew out of government and academic research programs. What he called the “blue-sky thinking” of non-corporate AI research can also develop applications that are not purely focused on maximizing profits.

American companies, Acemoglu said, get tax breaks for capital R&D—but not for developing new technologies for their employees. “We turn around and [tell companies], ‘Use your technologies to empower workers,’” he said. “But why should they do that? Hiring workers is expensive in many ways. And we’re subsidizing capital.”

Said Sarita Gupta, director of the Ford Foundation’s Future of Work(ers) Program, “Low and middle income workers have for over 30 years been experiencing stagnant and declining pay, shrinking benefits, and less power on the job. Now technology is brilliant at enabling scale. But the question we sit with is—how do we make sure that we’re not scaling these longstanding problems?”

Andrew McAfee, co-director of MIT’s Initiative on the Digital Economy, said AI may not reduce the number of jobs available in the workplace today. But the quality of those jobs is another story. He cited the Dutch economist Jan Tinbergen who decades ago said that “Inequality is a race between technology and education.”

McAfee said, ultimately, the time to solve the economic problems AI poses for workers in the United States is when the U.S. economy is doing well—like right now.

“We do have the wind at our backs,” said Elisabeth Reynolds, executive director of MIT’s Task Force on the Work of the Future.

“We have some breathing room right now,” McAfee agreed. “Economic growth has been pretty good. Unemployment is pretty low. Interest rates are very, very low. We might not have that war chest in the future.” Continue reading

Posted in Human Robots

#436190 What Is the Uncanny Valley?

Have you ever encountered a lifelike humanoid robot or a realistic computer-generated face that seem a bit off or unsettling, though you can’t quite explain why?

Take for instance AVA, one of the “digital humans” created by New Zealand tech startup Soul Machines as an on-screen avatar for Autodesk. Watching a lifelike digital being such as AVA can be both fascinating and disconcerting. AVA expresses empathy through her demeanor and movements: slightly raised brows, a tilt of the head, a nod.

By meticulously rendering every lash and line in its avatars, Soul Machines aimed to create a digital human that is virtually undistinguishable from a real one. But to many, rather than looking natural, AVA actually looks creepy. There’s something about it being almost human but not quite that can make people uneasy.

Like AVA, many other ultra-realistic avatars, androids, and animated characters appear stuck in a disturbing in-between world: They are so lifelike and yet they are not “right.” This void of strangeness is known as the uncanny valley.

Uncanny Valley: Definition and History
The uncanny valley is a concept first introduced in the 1970s by Masahiro Mori, then a professor at the Tokyo Institute of Technology. The term describes Mori’s observation that as robots appear more humanlike, they become more appealing—but only up to a certain point. Upon reaching the uncanny valley, our affinity descends into a feeling of strangeness, a sense of unease, and a tendency to be scared or freaked out.

Image: Masahiro Mori

The uncanny valley as depicted in Masahiro Mori’s original graph: As a robot’s human likeness [horizontal axis] increases, our affinity towards the robot [vertical axis] increases too, but only up to a certain point. For some lifelike robots, our response to them plunges, and they appear repulsive or creepy. That’s the uncanny valley.

In his seminal essay for Japanese journal Energy, Mori wrote:

I have noticed that, in climbing toward the goal of making robots appear human, our affinity for them increases until we come to a valley, which I call the uncanny valley.

Later in the essay, Mori describes the uncanny valley by using an example—the first prosthetic hands:

One might say that the prosthetic hand has achieved a degree of resemblance to the human form, perhaps on a par with false teeth. However, when we realize the hand, which at first site looked real, is in fact artificial, we experience an eerie sensation. For example, we could be startled during a handshake by its limp boneless grip together with its texture and coldness. When this happens, we lose our sense of affinity, and the hand becomes uncanny.

In an interview with IEEE Spectrum, Mori explained how he came up with the idea for the uncanny valley:

“Since I was a child, I have never liked looking at wax figures. They looked somewhat creepy to me. At that time, electronic prosthetic hands were being developed, and they triggered in me the same kind of sensation. These experiences had made me start thinking about robots in general, which led me to write that essay. The uncanny valley was my intuition. It was one of my ideas.”

Uncanny Valley Examples
To better illustrate how the uncanny valley works, here are some examples of the phenomenon. Prepare to be freaked out.

1. Telenoid

Photo: Hiroshi Ishiguro/Osaka University/ATR

Taking the top spot in the “creepiest” rankings of IEEE Spectrum’s Robots Guide, Telenoid is a robotic communication device designed by Japanese roboticist Hiroshi Ishiguro. Its bald head, lifeless face, and lack of limbs make it seem more alien than human.

2. Diego-san

Photo: Andrew Oh/Javier Movellan/Calit2

Engineers and roboticists at the University of California San Diego’s Machine Perception Lab developed this robot baby to help parents better communicate with their infants. At 1.2 meters (4 feet) tall and weighing 30 kilograms (66 pounds), Diego-san is a big baby—bigger than an average 1-year-old child.

“Even though the facial expression is sophisticated and intuitive in this infant robot, I still perceive a false smile when I’m expecting the baby to appear happy,” says Angela Tinwell, a senior lecturer at the University of Bolton in the U.K. and author of The Uncanny Valley in Games and Animation. “This, along with a lack of detail in the eyes and forehead, can make the baby appear vacant and creepy, so I would want to avoid those ‘dead eyes’ rather than interacting with Diego-san.”

​3. Geminoid HI

Photo: Osaka University/ATR/Kokoro

Another one of Ishiguro’s creations, Geminoid HI is his android replica. He even took hair from his own scalp to put onto his robot twin. Ishiguro says he created Geminoid HI to better understand what it means to be human.

4. Sophia

Photo: Mikhail Tereshchenko/TASS/Getty Images

Designed by David Hanson of Hanson Robotics, Sophia is one of the most famous humanoid robots. Like Soul Machines’ AVA, Sophia displays a range of emotional expressions and is equipped with natural language processing capabilities.

5. Anthropomorphized felines

The uncanny valley doesn’t only happen with robots that adopt a human form. The 2019 live-action versions of the animated film The Lion King and the musical Cats brought the uncanny valley to the forefront of pop culture. To some fans, the photorealistic computer animations of talking lions and singing cats that mimic human movements were just creepy.

Are you feeling that eerie sensation yet?

Uncanny Valley: Science or Pseudoscience?
Despite our continued fascination with the uncanny valley, its validity as a scientific concept is highly debated. The uncanny valley wasn’t actually proposed as a scientific concept, yet has often been criticized in that light.

Mori himself said in his IEEE Spectrum interview that he didn’t explore the concept from a rigorous scientific perspective but as more of a guideline for robot designers:

Pointing out the existence of the uncanny valley was more of a piece of advice from me to people who design robots rather than a scientific statement.

Karl MacDorman, an associate professor of human-computer interaction at Indiana University who has long studied the uncanny valley, interprets the classic graph not as expressing Mori’s theory but as a heuristic for learning the concept and organizing observations.

“I believe his theory is instead expressed by his examples, which show that a mismatch in the human likeness of appearance and touch or appearance and motion can elicit a feeling of eeriness,” MacDorman says. “In my own experiments, I have consistently reproduced this effect within and across sense modalities. For example, a mismatch in the human realism of the features of a face heightens eeriness; a robot with a human voice or a human with a robotic voice is eerie.”

How to Avoid the Uncanny Valley
Unless you intend to create creepy characters or evoke a feeling of unease, you can follow certain design principles to avoid the uncanny valley. “The effect can be reduced by not creating robots or computer-animated characters that combine features on different sides of a boundary—for example, human and nonhuman, living and nonliving, or real and artificial,” MacDorman says.

To make a robot or avatar more realistic and move it beyond the valley, Tinwell says to ensure that a character’s facial expressions match its emotive tones of speech, and that its body movements are responsive and reflect its hypothetical emotional state. Special attention must also be paid to facial elements such as the forehead, eyes, and mouth, which depict the complexities of emotion and thought. “The mouth must be modeled and animated correctly so the character doesn’t appear aggressive or portray a ‘false smile’ when they should be genuinely happy,” she says.

For Christoph Bartneck, an associate professor at the University of Canterbury in New Zealand, the goal is not to avoid the uncanny valley, but to avoid bad character animations or behaviors, stressing the importance of matching the appearance of a robot with its ability. “We’re trained to spot even the slightest divergence from ‘normal’ human movements or behavior,” he says. “Hence, we often fail in creating highly realistic, humanlike characters.”

But he warns that the uncanny valley appears to be more of an uncanny cliff. “We find the likability to increase and then crash once robots become humanlike,” he says. “But we have never observed them ever coming out of the valley. You fall off and that’s it.” Continue reading

Posted in Human Robots

#436188 The Blogger Behind “AI ...

Sure, artificial intelligence is transforming the world’s societies and economies—but can an AI come up with plausible ideas for a Halloween costume?

Janelle Shane has been asking such probing questions since she started her AI Weirdness blog in 2016. She specializes in training neural networks (which underpin most of today’s machine learning techniques) on quirky data sets such as compilations of knitting instructions, ice cream flavors, and names of paint colors. Then she asks the neural net to generate its own contributions to these categories—and hilarity ensues. AI is not likely to disrupt the paint industry with names like “Ronching Blue,” “Dorkwood,” and “Turdly.”

Shane’s antics have a serious purpose. She aims to illustrate the serious limitations of today’s AI, and to counteract the prevailing narrative that describes AI as well on its way to superintelligence and complete human domination. “The danger of AI is not that it’s too smart,” Shane writes in her new book, “but that it’s not smart enough.”

The book, which came out on Tuesday, is called You Look Like a Thing and I Love You. It takes its odd title from a list of AI-generated pick-up lines, all of which would at least get a person’s attention if shouted, preferably by a robot, in a crowded bar. Shane’s book is shot through with her trademark absurdist humor, but it also contains real explanations of machine learning concepts and techniques. It’s a painless way to take AI 101.

She spoke with IEEE Spectrum about the perils of placing too much trust in AI systems, the strange AI phenomenon of “giraffing,” and her next potential Halloween costume.

Janelle Shane on . . .

The un-delicious origin of her blog
“The narrower the problem, the smarter the AI will seem”
Why overestimating AI is dangerous
Giraffing!
Machine and human creativity

The un-delicious origin of her blog IEEE Spectrum: You studied electrical engineering as an undergrad, then got a master’s degree in physics. How did that lead to you becoming the comedian of AI?
Janelle Shane: I’ve been interested in machine learning since freshman year of college. During orientation at Michigan State, a professor who worked on evolutionary algorithms gave a talk about his work. It was full of the most interesting anecdotes–some of which I’ve used in my book. He told an anecdote about people setting up a machine learning algorithm to do lens design, and the algorithm did end up designing an optical system that works… except one of the lenses was 50 feet thick, because they didn’t specify that it couldn’t do that.
I started working in his lab on optics, doing ultra-short laser pulse work. I ended up doing a lot more optics than machine learning, but I always found it interesting. One day I came across a list of recipes that someone had generated using a neural net, and I thought it was hilarious and remembered why I thought machine learning was so cool. That was in 2016, ages ago in machine learning land.
Spectrum: So you decided to “establish weirdness as your goal” for your blog. What was the first weird experiment that you blogged about?
Shane: It was generating cookbook recipes. The neural net came up with ingredients like: “Take ¼ pounds of bones or fresh bread.” That recipe started out: “Brown the salmon in oil, add creamed meat to the mixture.” It was making mistakes that showed the thing had no memory at all.
Spectrum: You say in the book that you can learn a lot about AI by giving it a task and watching it flail. What do you learn?
Shane: One thing you learn is how much it relies on surface appearances rather than deep understanding. With the recipes, for example: It got the structure of title, category, ingredients, instructions, yield at the end. But when you look more closely, it has instructions like “Fold the water and roll it into cubes.” So clearly this thing does not understand water, let alone the other things. It’s recognizing certain phrases that tend to occur, but it doesn’t have a concept that these recipes are describing something real. You start to realize how very narrow the algorithms in this world are. They only know exactly what we tell them in our data set.
BACK TO TOP↑ “The narrower the problem, the smarter the AI will seem” Spectrum: That makes me think of DeepMind’s AlphaGo, which was universally hailed as a triumph for AI. It can play the game of Go better than any human, but it doesn’t know what Go is. It doesn’t know that it’s playing a game.
Shane: It doesn’t know what a human is, or if it’s playing against a human or another program. That’s also a nice illustration of how well these algorithms do when they have a really narrow and well-defined problem.
The narrower the problem, the smarter the AI will seem. If it’s not just doing something repeatedly but instead has to understand something, coherence goes down. For example, take an algorithm that can generate images of objects. If the algorithm is restricted to birds, it could do a recognizable bird. If this same algorithm is asked to generate images of any animal, if its task is that broad, the bird it generates becomes an unrecognizable brown feathered smear against a green background.
Spectrum: That sounds… disturbing.
Shane: It’s disturbing in a weird amusing way. What’s really disturbing is the humans it generates. It hasn’t seen them enough times to have a good representation, so you end up with an amorphous, usually pale-faced thing with way too many orifices. If you asked it to generate an image of a person eating pizza, you’ll have blocks of pizza texture floating around. But if you give that image to an image-recognition algorithm that was trained on that same data set, it will say, “Oh yes, that’s a person eating pizza.”
BACK TO TOP↑ Why overestimating AI is dangerous Spectrum: Do you see it as your role to puncture the AI hype?
Shane: I do see it that way. Not a lot of people are bringing out this side of AI. When I first started posting my results, I’d get people saying, “I don’t understand, this is AI, shouldn’t it be better than this? Why doesn't it understand?” Many of the impressive examples of AI have a really narrow task, or they’ve been set up to hide how little understanding it has. There’s a motivation, especially among people selling products based on AI, to represent the AI as more competent and understanding than it actually is.
Spectrum: If people overestimate the abilities of AI, what risk does that pose?
Shane: I worry when I see people trusting AI with decisions it can’t handle, like hiring decisions or decisions about moderating content. These are really tough tasks for AI to do well on. There are going to be a lot of glitches. I see people saying, “The computer decided this so it must be unbiased, it must be objective.”

“If the algorithm’s task is to replicate human hiring decisions, it’s going to glom onto gender bias and race bias.”
—Janelle Shane, AI Weirdness blogger
That’s another thing I find myself highlighting in the work I’m doing. If the data includes bias, the algorithm will copy that bias. You can’t tell it not to be biased, because it doesn’t understand what bias is. I think that message is an important one for people to understand.
If there’s bias to be found, the algorithm is going to go after it. It’s like, “Thank goodness, finally a signal that’s reliable.” But for a tough problem like: Look at these resumes and decide who’s best for the job. If its task is to replicate human hiring decisions, it’s going to glom onto gender bias and race bias. There’s an example in the book of a hiring algorithm that Amazon was developing that discriminated against women, because the historical data it was trained on had that gender bias.
Spectrum: What are the other downsides of using AI systems that don’t really understand their tasks?
Shane: There is a risk in putting too much trust in AI and not examining its decisions. Another issue is that it can solve the wrong problems, without anyone realizing it. There have been a couple of cases in medicine. For example, there was an algorithm that was trained to recognize things like skin cancer. But instead of recognizing the actual skin condition, it latched onto signals like the markings a surgeon makes on the skin, or a ruler placed there for scale. It was treating those things as a sign of skin cancer. It’s another indication that these algorithms don’t understand what they’re looking at and what the goal really is.
BACK TO TOP↑ Giraffing Spectrum: In your blog, you often have neural nets generate names for things—such as ice cream flavors, paint colors, cats, mushrooms, and types of apples. How do you decide on topics?
Shane: Quite often it’s because someone has written in with an idea or a data set. They’ll say something like, “I’m the MIT librarian and I have a whole list of MIT thesis titles.” That one was delightful. Or they’ll say, “We are a high school robotics team, and we know where there’s a list of robotics team names.” It’s fun to peek into a different world. I have to be careful that I’m not making fun of the naming conventions in the field. But there’s a lot of humor simply in the neural net’s complete failure to understand. Puns in particular—it really struggles with puns.
Spectrum: Your blog is quite absurd, but it strikes me that machine learning is often absurd in itself. Can you explain the concept of giraffing?
Shane: This concept was originally introduced by [internet security expert] Melissa Elliott. She proposed this phrase as a way to describe the algorithms’ tendency to see giraffes way more often than would be likely in the real world. She posted a whole bunch of examples, like a photo of an empty field in which an image-recognition algorithm has confidently reported that there are giraffes. Why does it think giraffes are present so often when they’re actually really rare? Because they’re trained on data sets from online. People tend to say, “Hey look, a giraffe!” And then take a photo and share it. They don’t do that so often when they see an empty field with rocks.
There’s also a chatbot that has a delightful quirk. If you show it some photo and ask it how many giraffes are in the picture, it will always answer with some non zero number. This quirk comes from the way the training data was generated: These were questions asked and answered by humans online. People tended not to ask the question “How many giraffes are there?” when the answer was zero. So you can show it a picture of someone holding a Wii remote. If you ask it how many giraffes are in the picture, it will say two.
BACK TO TOP↑ Machine and human creativity Spectrum: AI can be absurd, and maybe also creative. But you make the point that AI art projects are really human-AI collaborations: Collecting the data set, training the algorithm, and curating the output are all artistic acts on the part of the human. Do you see your work as a human-AI art project?
Shane: Yes, I think there is artistic intent in my work; you could call it literary or visual. It’s not so interesting to just take a pre-trained algorithm that’s been trained on utilitarian data, and tell it to generate a bunch of stuff. Even if the algorithm isn’t one that I’ve trained myself, I think about, what is it doing that’s interesting, what kind of story can I tell around it, and what do I want to show people.

The Halloween costume algorithm “was able to draw on its knowledge of which words are related to suggest things like sexy barnacle.”
—Janelle Shane, AI Weirdness blogger
Spectrum: For the past three years you’ve been getting neural nets to generate ideas for Halloween costumes. As language models have gotten dramatically better over the past three years, are the costume suggestions getting less absurd?
Shane: Yes. Before I would get a lot more nonsense words. This time I got phrases that were related to real things in the data set. I don’t believe the training data had the words Flying Dutchman or barnacle. But it was able to draw on its knowledge of which words are related to suggest things like sexy barnacle and sexy Flying Dutchman.
Spectrum: This year, I saw on Twitter that someone made the gothy giraffe costume happen. Would you ever dress up for Halloween in a costume that the neural net suggested?
Shane: I think that would be fun. But there would be some challenges. I would love to go as the sexy Flying Dutchman. But my ambition may constrict me to do something more like a list of leg parts.
BACK TO TOP↑ Continue reading

Posted in Human Robots