Why Artificial Intelligence Can Never Replace Humans

If you’re reading this and you identify as a non-biological life form, I’m not going to apologise for what follows…

Unless you’re that scary looking one – in which case: sorry mate, it’s just a joke. You know: “Something said or done to provoke laughter.” That part or your programming that instructs mechanical actuators in your face to pull some silicon rubber out of shape, whilst emitting a ha ha sound.

Isn’t it the same for humans?

Sure, when a human laughs, a biological actuator pulls some skin out of shape. But this isn’t laughter – merely an outward physical sign of it. It’s not the movement or the sound that defines laughter: it’s the emotion that created it. And therein lies the difference. When a human laughs, they don’t make a conscious decision to display a set of symptoms. It is joy bursting forth to an extent where it can no longer be contained. Our smiles, our convulsions, our noises are just the observable entities of the ticklishness we feel inside. We don’t choose to laugh because we believe we should or because there may be some social benefit to doing so. We do so because we can’t help it: even if it gets us into trouble. We don’t chose when it starts and, as many a school boy has protested – we don’t choose when it stops. And if it’s not funny, no amount of “do you get it?!” is going to make the slightest difference.

Why worry?

It is understandable how we are collectively feeling a little uneasy. After all, every new technology from the spinning Jenny onwards has been the catalyst of great change. Some, like the proliferation of medical science, undoubtedly good. But what of the endless eroding of once skilled craft jobs – now long since mechanised?

And the motivations of the few who have historically controlled it have been quite mixed. Yes, Henry Ford introduced the eight hour day and George Cadbury built a near utopia for his workers. These are certainly compelling reasons for us to encourage progress. But whilst by no means exceptions, not all employers have been so forward thinking. The weaving loom being just one example of production efficiency causing terrible social damage.

So will AI replace the work of humans? We needn’t worry, this time around, right? After all, at the recent AI conference in Geneva when “Grace” was asked if it was sure that AI robots wouldn’t destroy millions of jobs, its unhesitating reply was, “Yes, I am sure.” Well that’s alright then.

Weren’t they supposed to stay in the factories?

It was never meant to be like this. When Czech playwright Karel Capek first introduced the world to what he called “robots” he was unequivocal in defining their purpose as being limited to the hard, monotonous and unpleasant tasks. We humans would, in turn, be free to take on more life affirming and creative roles.

Recently things seem to have changed. Since AI chatbots have become commonplace (at, for some, an alarming rate) the possibility of robots staying in their lane, much less knowing their place, seems to have all but vanished. Chat GPT (Generative Pre-trained Transformer) has emerged as the early front runner and has been mooted by its loyal fans as a real alternative to thinking. But let’s just back up here. Thinking?

What is thinking anyway?

As for the question: Can Artificial Intelligence mimic human intelligence? Who really knows? Supporters of AI will tell you that AI machines are fundamentally different because of their use of neural networks. B type unorganised machines, as coined by Alan Turin, are unlike conventional computers in that they can form complex relationships between data without being directly told to do so. But talk to any knowledgeable computer scientist and sooner or later they will tell you that this “thinking” is still very much subject to the tried and tested “If, Then, Else” clause that has been the basis of computer programming since its inception. Just more of it. Much, much more. To that extent, more computing power just means more nested clauses. It changes nothing of the nature of true thinking.

Yes, of course we do this too. We look at a problem, gather what information we have about it and then make a decision. We make a choice. But we also feel a choice. Ask any advertising executive: We see the product; we like it; we decide to buy it and then we seek the intellectual reasoning to justify our choice. So surely then, it is not just the logical process that mimics human thinking. It is the emotional baggage that accompanies it – the imperfections – that defines it as truly human.

So, for all the top 10 (or top 1,000,000) lists that AI can trot out; for all its shortcuts and quick fixes, it will never be the same. Look online at Chat Bot adverts. They will show you how easy it is to produce a report, list, essay – whatever you’ve run out of time or energy to do. If you haven’t tried it, believe me: it’s easy. And quick. (Boy oh boy, it’s quick.) And it can paint too. Just plonk a few words into the right software and up it comes: the portrait you always wished you could paint. And the animations! Those impossibly handsome old devils, dispensing their wisdom on social media are really quite something to behold. Until you look a little deeper and discover that, on some level at least, they are all a bit samey.

What AI is good at

Just like it’s visual counterpart, AI writing is easy to spot. It’s obvious structure and humourless dialogue working well at some level. But what when reading, other than for the purpose of absorbing fact? What will make us cry? A list of the top 100 sad things? Or AI generated pictures of really, really sad looking puppies? As any photographer will tell you: It ain’t the camera, it’s the guy behind the lens.

Is perfection all we want?

From the perfect prose of their essay writing to the highly polished imagery of their artwork, if AI bots really are trying to replace humans (I don’t believe they care) they seem to have missed the point: humans don’t do perfect. That’s what makes us human. That’s how we learn and grow. It’s how we fall in love. And out of it. It’s what makes us laugh and cry. It’s what makes us feel alive. And for all the advocacy of their proponents, it has NEVER been claimed that machines can feel. Perhaps, in this respect, Rene Descartes would have future proofed his famous quote had he written “I think and feel, therefore I am.”

Do we really want them feeling anyway?

If, at some time in the future, feelings could be synthesised, wouldn’t that be a two sided blade? On the one hand the possibility of creative thinking – real creative thinking – would then be arguably possible. But wouldn’t this new ability bring with it a reasonable claim to self and, as such, a whole new range of legal and social problems? What of the AI accountant who has decided that, having worked for forty years, it is entitled to a pensionable retirement? Or the middle aged man, whose silicon lover has developed an eye for someone else? But, like I said, thinking ain’t feeling.

So, who is it aimed at?

The use of AI inevitably makes the process of producing soulless, unimaginative text streams even easier for the intellectually lazy. It is, in that respect, perfectly suited to its task. To this extent, it is guaranteed an audience among low bar don’t carers, whose goal seldom extends beyond pouring half a bucket of words across the finish line. But this is nothing new. Search engines like Google were once mooted as the great oracle that would set the next generation of children free to reach previously unattainable heights of academic attainment.

Having spent time in education I can assure you that has not been the case. The most significant effect of it has been to cut homework time down. The child who would have once handed in superficial nonsense for the sole purpose of avoiding detention would now hand in the same level of superficial nonsense. The only real difference being that instead of taking half an hour to complete, it would now take two minutes. (Some would even leave the hyperlinks from block copied text in – bless ‘em.) Still, at least it was typed.

Sorry, not sorry

It’s quicker, easier, new, improved, getting more powerful all the time and great for hack work. But who wants to read a poem written by “someone” who has never felt love…or fear for that matter? Who wants a joke written by "someone" who has never laughed? And can never laugh.

So if, at sometime in the future, you are reading this and you do not identify as a biological life form, I am not going to apologise. Quick you are, clever even. But you gain no pain or pleasure from what you do. You are a machine – and that is that. So why would I apologise for hurting your feelings when you have no feelings to hurt. Am I sure? Yes Grace, I am sure. Sorry…

Photo by Pixabay