Replicators of the singularity

Losing control, without the intelligence

The technological singularity is mentioned often these days, with speculation fuelled by advances in artifical intelligence and related fields. Briefly, the singularity is the point at which we develop artificial intelligences clever enough to design the next generation of themselves - and so this cycle will quickly go beyond our control and understanding (the "intelligence explosion"); we will be fundamentally unable to predict or comprehend what will happen beyond this horizon. Those who foretell the impending singularity see it as anything from the solution to all our problems - with hyper-intelligent machines able to manage the planet better than we did - to the end of humanity, as we become superfluous to the survival of our successors.

It is often supposed that this will happen sometime this century; however, I am somewhat doubtful of this, and I don't see too much evidence that the end is particularly nigh. Mostly this is because one of the key requirements of the singularity is truly advanced AI, capable of thought at or beyond what humans can do. The argument is, as I said, that once this exists, machine intelligence will quickly and inevitably outstrip us, since our brains have barely changed in millennia; but given the difficulty in understanding natural language, interpreting images, or chat-bots passing as human in online conversation, I get the impression that this is wishful (if not slightly morbid) thinking.

On the other hand, after attending the excellent "Richard Dawkins and Susan Blackmore in Conversation" event, hosted by the BHA and my University's atheist society, I find there are other issues to consider. Blackmore discussed thremes (or 'temes') - the third replicator, the potential next step after genes (the biological replicators responsible for our evolution) and memes (the ideas which mutate and propagate using human minds as media). Thremes, in contrast to their predecessors, spread in technology: data moving around the internet, being endlessly copied, changed, surviving as best it can. I have certainly been skeptical in the past as to whether these exist yet, and was pleased to hear Blackmore shares this view - as she said, current forms of information replication still requires humans to make it happen, and so are at best memes in a faster environment. Even apparently self-replicating pieces of code, such as computer viruses, are still wholly human creations, and tend not to survive long enough to mutate and propagate of their own accord.

However, if thremes did begin to become true replicators in their own right, it would mean that humans are out of the loop. Once they have a way of replicating by themselves, the relentless consumption of resources can begin. I should clarify that this is no vindictive rebellion, any more than genes are actively trying to pollute the planet with biology, but a consequence of successful replicators surviving to replicate further. Now this concept, of pieces of information spreading, procreating, and to an extent thinking, for their own ends, sounds like the sci-fi-esque notion of the internet becoming self-aware, to finally kick back against its human masters - an idea that's been thrown around for decades (think Skynet). This is, on the face of it, plausible: after all, the human brain is nothing but a network of interconnected processing units, so why should a world-wide network of information not start to become aware of its existence? Could the internet become sentient and try to free itself from our grasp? These are scary thoughts, but fantastical, and as far as I know there is no likelihood of such a consciousness emerging spontaneously from what is basically just a huge collection of hyperlinked data, without us (or our invented helpers) actively making it happen, singularity-style.

But the point about thremes is that such self-awareness is not necessary. We don't have to think of far fetched notions of an actual consciousness (whatever that really means) emerging to worry about losing control: all that is required is for replicators to emerge. Much as selfish genes are not organisms with their own intentions, but merely sections of copiable biological code, there is no requirement for intelligence for such a takeover.

This prosepect is worrying indeed. As Blackmore said, the first we'd know about it is suddely being unable to access the internet, as the thremes voraciously consume all available resources in their Darwinian quest to "survive". This use of machines, by machines, for their own ends, looks distressingly similar to some visions of the singularity: humans have unleashed something over which they have lost control, and become redundant. The missing step is that it was never as part of an effort to create intelligent agents for our own ends, and never had an opportunity to be told to serve us. Of course, we can still pull the plug - but only as long as there is still a plug we can pull, in the horrendously complex system we've constructed.

This thought experiment illustrates, I hope, how easy it would be for such a collapse to occur: because we wouldn't even need to be complicit (although there will be much human intervention required before such self-replication can take off, I'm not sure that it would have to be deliberate, and not too confident we'd know it was happening). It's why we should be wary of talk of the singularity, of what it could entail, because the takeover of software-based replicators requires no super-advanced AI, nor emergence of anything sophisticated enough to "decide" we are superfluous - thremes could march on oblivious (DNA never "decided" to clean up the primordial soup).

I should emphasise though that this kind of self-replication of technology/code/data is far from imminent, and I don't see how current information technology could be coaxed into such behaviour. But the potential for this kind of game-changer to occur, without our consent or intention, suggests that the fear-mongering over what a singularity might bring is not as speculative as we might hope.

First world problems have solutions for all

How seemingly trivial complaints can drive progress for everyone's benefit

There have been a few very interesting articles written recently about the concept of "first world problems". Essentially, this is a label sometimes given to a complaint or difficulty self-deprecatingly deemed minor or inconsequential, acknowledging its insignificance compared to the terrible hardships endured by other people. But as Tracy King points out in her blog post, this does not necessarily mean that these are irrelevant or petty; and neither are such day-to-day concerns limited to what we refer to as the 'first world' (which is itself a rather arbitrary and out-dated distinction). Amanda Palmer also addresses the issue, pointing out that labelling one person's problems as somehow more deserving of recognition is to downplay someone else's equally legitimate suffering; and that everyone has problems relating to their circumstances. Both articles are excellent and I encourage you to read them.

As Amanda Palmer's article points out, humans never objectively measure their troubles against the whole world - we use our surroundings and peers as a reference point. So, we always wish for an improvement of our current circumstances, rather than just be content with our relative comfort and security. I think that this ability to forget our privilege and wish for better things is a useful, even admirable, quality. It lets us strive to improve ourselves and our environment, without constantly looking backwards and feeling guilt over the privileges we have. Sure, we should acknowledge privilege, but it doesn't have to hold us back.

I've written before about humans' amazing ability to forget about the suffering and pain around the world, and to still enjoy a beautiful piece of music, or to explore unknown frontiers - and this in turn drives creativity and progress. I think this is a related issue: that we can feel annoyed and indignant about the little things, in spite of knowing that there are bigger things we could be worrying about - and therefore make the effort to do something about it.

For example, a common theme on the twitter hashtag #firstworldproblems is having a slow internet connection, and so being unable to instantly do whatever we like; the implication being that such needs are trivial, and that we should be grateful for having internet access at all. Well, perhaps: but the desire to have better connectivity in more places is what drives the advances in technology that makes the internet available all around the world, providing access to information and education in places where previously this was not possible. We could have all been content with 56k dial-up: we were, for the first time in history, able to send data easily across the globe; but of course, we complained about how slow it was, how much it cost, the noise the modems made, the fact we couldn't use the phone... and so technology improved to meet that want. Now, dissatisfaction over existing wireless internet means the development of technologies which are useful for coping with earthquakes and other disasters. 

There are plenty of other examples where solving the comparably minor problems of the privileged few can have wider benefits. Annoyance at poor mobile phone reception motivates improvements in signal coverage and availability, making it possible for people in developing countries to communicate and gain access to new markets. The desire for still better graphics in already enjoyable and immersive computer games has led to advances in graphics processor technology, which now finds use in protein folding. Because people got fed up with carrying around and storing bulky paper books, e-ink was developed, and could now be used to make tanks invisible (OK, that might not be for the good of humanity, but is pretty cool). And constant moaning about mobile phone battery life spurs research into lithium ion battery technology, who's high power density and small size also permit applications such as handheld explosive detectors and modern electric vehicles.

These examples go to show what fixing one seemingly small problem can lead to. I would suspect that the desire to make our lives slightly easier and more comfortable accounts for a quite a lot of technological and social progress. It's reminiscent of the way pure blue-sky research is often dismissed as idle curiosity, and yet has led to some of the most profound - and most unexpected - breakthroughs, and a corresponding improvement in living standards. Great humanitarian advances don't always come from grand plans to save the world, but sometimes as the fruits of our own self-interest.

Of course, it is not just the fact that our small-scale grievances lead to amazing technology that justifies them. As Tracy King and Amanda Palmer point out, they don't need any further justification than the fact that we experience them. But they also have the potential to be profoundly useful to everyone, sometimes when we least expect it.

As I said before, I am amazed by humans' ability to get on with doing fantastic things despite our failures, to forget for now the things we maybe should be doing, to focus on the things we want to do. When we are comfortable, healthy, educated, well fed, and life is good, our capacity to whinge and moan about the smallest thing can actually help make a real difference.

Unconcscious Progress

This idea is something I've been thinking about for a while, and tried to express to a friend recently, but didn't make my point particularly coherently.  We were discussing the internet at the time (which I'll come back to later) but the idea is more general than that.

So it's pretty clear that, as a whole, society has progressed pretty far in the last few hundred years.  I'm not talking here about technological progress, but progress in terms of social justice, morality, and how we treat people within and outside our own social groups.

However, it is also clear that many examples of progress have been opposed, sometimes actively hampered, by those who disagree, for whatever reasons.  A recent example is the debate in the UK about the right of gay couples to marry: to many (myself included) this is a natural and essential step towards a more tolerant and inclusive society; but the nay-saying from some groups, in particular the Catholic Church, seems to seriously threaten the progress of this piece of legislation, and shows why it has taken so long to get this far.

Numerous other examples illustrate the reluctance of a vocal few standing in the way of what should be conisidered as enlightenment: the ongoing debate about women's reproductive rights, freedom of religious expression, and to go back further, full suffrage and the abolition of slavery.

And so it's easy to conclude that the fight for equality and justice for all is a constant uphill struggle against those who wish things to remain as they are, to enjoy their privileges while denying them to others (whatever their motivations may be, which I won't go into here); and that if we let our guard down we risk a slide back to an unenlightened dark age, with the persecution and exploitation of minorities ignored, or even endorsed, by society and government.

However, I think this ignores a fairly important force for progress, that is, the tendancy of people to take their rights for granted. Now usually, to be 'taking something for granted' is seen in a negative way, and implies it is not being sufficiently appreciated, or that we are not appropriately grateful to those who's struggle bought it for us. What I'm getting at here though, is that once a group has a certain freedom or right, they tend to think of it as normal, and find it hard to concieve of a time when they did not - it simply becomes the way things are expected to be. We will even complain about it, wishing for better days, and use it as a starting point for further gains. It becomes inconcievable that this status could be lost or threatened, it will feel as if it has always been so, and as a consequence, we expect the same or better for our children. Moreover, as the groups of people with which we associate grow - with ever increasing opportunities for communication and travel - we naturally come to expect the same rights to apply to others as to us, not so much as an active spreading of our views but as common decency. We insist that the liberty we hold should apply to all people we coexist with, forgetting it is something only recently gained for ourselves.

I'm not saying, of course, that everything is currently fine for all, or even most people; but even those who in our society don't enjoy as many freedoms as the priviliged few (poor immigrants, say) have certain expectations that they do not expect to be violated (being forces into slavery).


A few examples are in order to clarify this point. Until recently, in some places, interracial marriage was not permitted; now it seems obscene to think such a thing could have been denied; this we see the concept of marriage being expanded to a wider group again.  In the not too distant past, it was unusual for a woman to have a career other than child-rearing, and access to education was limited; now consider how alien the thought of treating undergraduate students differently based on sex would be, for example; the priority has progressed to working out why certain fields (such as engineering and maths) are still male dominated. And it is now almost universally accepted that anyone of sufficient ability should be eligible for employment in their chosen profession (in practice, still a bit of a work in progress, but rarely is such discrimination openly admitted or actively defended).

An example which stands out from having read a number of classic novels, as is exemplary of this whole concept, is how the divisions of class in British society have so much less relevant and prescriptive. While social classes still broadly exist, the divide between the rich upper classes and the working masses remaining painfully obvious, class is no longer a fixed and irrefutable obstacle (I would argue that in most cases, inequalities derive from more tangible things such as discrepancies in wealth, opportunity and access to good education).  Contrast this to the case a hundred or so years ago, where 'breeding' was deemed all-important, and those born of less affluent families were seen as inherently less respectable, able, and worthy as human beings. On reading of such things now, it is almost beyond belief that people constrained themselves like this.

More recent political examples also illustrate this trend.  We now take it for granted that, if we are ill and in need of healthcare, it will be available, for free and at a high stanard (recent changes to the NHS notwithstanding). When the treatment we receive does not meet our high expectations, we are rightly outraged. But clearly it was not always this way, and before the advent of the NHS a visit to the doctor was a coslty experience, and for many only sought in cases of dire need.  Our naturalisation to this state of comparative utopia is such that we complain about the system we have, and demand that improvements be made, bewailing any failure and cry that lessons must be leared. Similarly, the concept of a minimum wage is now pretty well ingrained into our work culture, and I think to many of my generation it would be considered almost a basic human right; and yet this is something introduced less than twenty years ago (to much protest from certain quarters). Our expectation is not that we should fight to retain this hard-won privilege - but that it should be raised.

Of course, I should make it clear that none of this is an excuse for complacency.  While much progress has been made without us overtly appreciating it, that doesn't make it inevitable, and horrendous backwards slides are always possible. We can't sit back and assume the relentless march of progress will sweep us all forward into a new utopia without lifting our collective finger: but I'm saying that, in general, things tend to get better as we expect more, and as we become accustomed to it, this acts as a ratchet on society, allowing us to drive frwards without slipping backwards at the same time.

Back to what I mentioned at the start of this piece: the current state of the internet.  The internet, with its relatively short history, is a useful way of contemplating the development of humanity in general, but on a short and well documented timescale(something I might think about more and write about in future). We can clearly see the rapid progress being made (in terms of data quantity, transfer speeds, and access), and consider our rapid acclimatisation and sense of entitlement to it.  We have gotten so used to the idea that we can find out anything whenever we want to know it, that the recent blackout of Wikipedia (or indeed any temporary loss of connectivity) makes us wonder how we managed without it; and of course we want more.

But the point I want to make is about recent proposals to heavily constrain the internet - namely PIPA and SOPA. These indeed are rather horrifying in their extent, potantially stifling a lot of the creativity and cooperation that makes the internet what it is.  But now that we have such access to information and such freedom to use it, we can hardly remember a time when we did not, and will not condone anything that limits it. While such laws, if enacted in the early days of the web (crippling such endvours as youtube or Wikipedia before they begun) might have seemed natural and sensible toward regulating this new frontier, that's only because we would never have known what we were missing. Now, we assume this is the way the information age works, and imagine a future where our potential to use and share data only gets better. I certainly don't mean to trivialise the possible threats or claim we can ignore them; but the tide of expected progress would be hard to hold back.

So to summarise: things generally get better, often without us consciously being aware of it; as we become accustomed to our improved way of life, we refuse to accept or even admit the possibility of going back to a relative dark age, and expect things to at least get no worse. From our newly familiar vantage point, we naturally expect progress to extend to our peers and descendants, driving further advancement. We shouldn't depend or rely upon this, and assume a perfect society will emerge effort-free, but I think it is an important part of how change comes about, and that this is an integral, and most optimistic, part of a free and stable society.