Microsoft recently announced the first public beta preview for Skype Translate, a service which will provide immediate translation during voice calls. For the time being only Spanish/English is working but we’re told that English/German and other languages are on the way. The approach used is complex. Deep Neural Networks apparently play a key role in the speech recognition. While the actual translation ultimately relies on recognising bits of text which resemble those it already knows, the same basic principle applied in existing text translators such as Google Translate, it is also capable of recognising and removing ‘disfluencies’ – um and ers, rephrasings, and so on, and apparently makes some use of syntactical models, so there is some highly sophisticated processing going on. It seems to do a reasonable job, though as always with this kind of thing a degree of scepticism is appropriate.
Translating actual speech, with all its messy variability is of course an amazing achievement, much more difficult than dealing with text (which itself is no walk in the park); and it’s remarkable indeed that it can be done so well without the machine making any serious attempt to deal with the meaning of the words it translates. Perhaps that’s a bit too bald: the software does take account of context and as I said it removes some meaningless bits, so arguably it is not ignoring meaning totally. But full-blown intentionality is completely absent.
This fits into a recent pattern in which barriers to AI are falling to approaches which skirt or avoid consciousness as we normally understand it, and all the intractable problems that go with it. It’s not exactly the triumph of brute force, but it does owe more to processing power and less to ingenuity than we might have expected. At some point if this continues, we’re going to have to take seriously the possibility of our having, in the not-all-that remote future, a machine which mimics human behaviour brilliantly without our ever having solved any of the philosophical problems. Such a robot might run on something like a revival of the frames or scripts of Marvin Minsky or Roger Schank, only this time with a depth and power behind it that would make the early attempts look like working with an abacus. The AI would, at its crudest, simply be recognising situations and looking up a good response, but it would have such a gigantic library of situations and it would be so subtle at customising the details that its behaviour would be indistinguishable from that of ordinary humans for all practical purposes. What would we say about such a robot (let’s call her Sophia, why not since anthropomorphism seems inevitable). I can see several options.
Option one. Sophia really is conscious, just like us. OK, we don’t really understand how we pulled it off, but it’s futile to argue about it when her performance provides everything we could possibly demand of consciousness and passes every test anyone can devise. We don’t argue that photographs are not depictions because they’re not executed in oil paint, so why would we argue that a consciousness created by other means is not the real thing? She achieved consciousness by a different route, and her brain doesn’t work like ours – but her mind does. In fact, it turns out we probably work more like her than we thought: all this talk of real intrinsic intentionality and magic meaningfulness turns out to be a systematic delusion; we’re really just running scripts ourselves!
Option two. Sophia is conscious, but not in the way we are. OK, the results are indistinguishable, but we just know that the methods are different, and so the process is not the same. birds and bats both fly, but they don’t do it the same way. Sophia probably deserves the same moral rights and duties as us, though we need to be careful about that; but she could very well be a philosophical zombie who has no subjective experience. On the other hand, her mental life might have subjective qualities of its own, very different to ours but incommunicable.
Option three. She’s not not conscious; we just know she isn’t, because we know how she works and we know that all her responses and behaviour come from simply picking canned sequences out of the cupboard. We’re deluding ourselves if we think otherwise. But she is the vivid image of a human being and an incredibly subtle and complex entity: she may not be that different from animals whose behaviour is largely instinctive. We cannot therefore simply treat her as a machine: she probably ought to have some kinds of rights: perhaps special robot rights. Since we can’t be absolutely certain that she does not experience real pain and other feelings in some form, and since she resembles us so much, it’s right to avoid cruelty both on the grounds of the precautionary principle and so as not to risk debasing our own moral instincts; if we got used to doling out bad treatment to robots who cried out with human voices, we might get used to doing it to flesh and blood people too.
Option four. Sophia’s just an entertaining machine, not conscious at all; but that moral stuff is rubbish. It’s perfectly OK to treat her like a slave, to turn her off when we want, or put her through terrible ‘ordeals’ if it helps or amuses us. We know that inside her head the lights are off, no-one home: we might as well worry about dolls. You talk about debasing our moral instincts, but I don’t think treating puppets like people is a great way to go, morally. You surely wouldn’t switch trolleys to save even ten Sophias if it killed one human being: follow that out to its logical conclusion.
Option five. Sophia is a ghastly parody of human life and should be destroyed immediately. I’m not saying she’s actuated by demonic possession (although Satan is pretty resourceful), but she tempts us into diabolical errors about the unique nature of the human spirit.
No doubt there are other options; for me. at any rate, being obliged to choose one is a nightmare scenario. Merry Christmas!