A Conversation With Kai-Fu Lee

Kai-Fu Lee at Edge.org:

51Xms9hTWLL._SX331_BO1 204 203 200_The question I always ask myself, just like any human being, is who am I and why do I exist? Who are we as humans and why do we exist? When I was in college, I had a much more naïve view. I was very much into computers and artificial intelligence, and I thought it must be the case that I’m destined to work on some computer algorithms and, along with my colleagues, figure out how the brain works and how the computer can be as smart as the brain, perhaps even become a substitute of the brain, and that’s what artificial intelligence is about.

That was the simplistic view that I had. I pursued that in my college, in my graduate years. I went to Carnegie Mellon and got a PhD in speech recognition, then went to Apple, then SGI, then Microsoft, and then to Google. In each of the companies, I continued to work on artificial intelligence, thinking that that was the pursuit of how intelligence worked, and that our elucidation of artificial intelligence would then come back and tell us, "Ah, that’s how the brain works." We replicated it, so that’s what intelligence is about. That must be the most important thing in our lives: our IQ, our ability to think, analyze, predict, understand—all that stuff should be explicable by replicating it in the computer.

I’ve had the good fortune to have met Marvin Minsky, Allen Newell, Herb Simon, and my mentor, Raj Reddy. All of these people had a profound influence on the way I thought. It’s consistent that they too were pursuing the understanding of intelligence. The belief at one point was that we would take the human intelligence and implement it as rules that would have a way to act as people if we provided the steps in which we go through our thoughts.

More here.

Why are the poor blamed and shamed for their deaths?

Barbara Ehrenreich in The Guardian:

BarbI watched in dismay as most of my educated, middle-class friends began, at the onset of middle age, to obsess about their health and likely longevity. Even those who were at one point determined to change the world refocused on changing their bodies. They undertook exercise or yoga regimens; they filled their calendars with medical tests and exams; they boasted about their “good” and “bad” cholesterol counts, their heart rates and blood pressure. Mostly they understood the task of ageing to be self-denial, especially in the realm of diet, where one medical fad, one study or another, condemned fat and meat, carbs, gluten, dairy or all animal-derived products. In the health-conscious mindset that has prevailed among the world’s affluent people for about four decades now, health is indistinguishable from virtue, tasty foods are “sinfully delicious”, while healthful foods may taste good enough to be advertised as “guilt-free”. Those seeking to compensate for a lapse undertake punitive measures such as hours-long cardio sessions, fasts, purges or diets composed of different juices carefully sequenced throughout the day.

Of course I want to be healthy, too; I just don’t want to make the pursuit of health into a major life project. I eat well, meaning I choose foods that taste good and will stave off hunger for as long as possible, such as protein, fibre and fats. But I refuse to overthink the potential hazards of blue cheese on my salad or pepperoni on my pizza. I also exercise – not because it will make me live longer but because it feels good when I do. As for medical care, I will seek help for an urgent problem, but I am no longer interested in undergoing tests to uncover problems that remain undetectable to me. When friends berate me for my laxity, my heavy use of butter or habit of puffing (but not inhaling) on cigarettes, I gently remind them that I am, in most cases, older than they are.

So it was with a measure of schadenfreude that I began to record the cases of individuals whose healthy lifestyles failed to produce lasting health. It turns out that many of the people who got caught up in the health “craze” of the last few decades – people who exercised, watched what they ate, abstained from smoking and heavy drinking – have nevertheless died. Lucille Roberts, owner of a chain of women’s gyms, died incongruously from lung cancer at the age of 59, although she was a “self-described exercise nut” who, the New York Times reported, “wouldn’t touch a French fry, much less smoke a cigarette”. Jerry Rubin, who devoted his later years to trying every supposedly health-promoting diet fad, therapy and meditation system he could find, jaywalked into Wilshire Boulevard at the age of 56 and died of his injuries two weeks later.

More here.

Sunday Poem

Mr. Love

—for my grandmother Miss Resnikoff

You see, she explained, what is now
called Love, was once named Zaslovsky.

He lived over the delicatessen
talked Yiddish in his hoarse voice,
(the vocal cords strained from all
those years of singing)

argued some about politics, got
melancholy and often put the grand-

children to bed telling Russian stories.
He loved to play pinochle
and never really gave up
his ideas.

But now, she explained, what
has taken the name of Love

fixes prescriptions, lives in
a perfect little neighborhood

and has plenty
of acquaintances.

by Lou Lipsitz
from Seeking the Hook
Signal Books, 1997