by Malcolm Murray

When it comes to AI, or even worse, “AGI”, we are facing a crisis of language. Different people use the terms to mean drastically different things. This is deeply unhelpful for productive debate. This point was hammered home to me several times this week. On LinkedIn, I debated appropriate risk management techniques for AI with a professor, and it turned out we were talking about very different kinds of AI. In New York, the proposed RAISE act made the A16Z lobbying army, fresh from its bloody victories in the California legislature, reload its weapons, despite the two sides talking about very different kinds of AI.

AI, as the current buzzword, is an extremely big tent and in effect a screen on to which people project their distinct hopes and fears. To make some progress in the AI debate, we should separate AI into its different archetypes. I believe there are at least five: Tool AI, Robot AI, Oracle AI, Golem AI and Agent AI, and they are all distinct, with different lineages and different purposes. Let’s examine each in turn.

First, there is Tool AI. Its lineage can be traced to big data, the buzzword in the business world in the early 2010s. This is the AI we have had for more than a decade, the AI that gets advertised in B2B SaaS solutions. It is AI as a prediction engine, deployed in the Amazon storefront to recommend your next purchase. This is AI in the TikTok feed, optimizing content for your engagement. It is statistics, but statistics on steroids. This is the type of AI for which VC firms like Andreessen Horwitz (A16Z) are techno-optimists and that can lead to large productivity increases for companies. It is a complement to humans, not a substitute.

Second, there is Robot AI. Its lineage includes the first use of the word robot, in the Czech play R.U.R. (Rossum’s Universal Robots) in 1920, and Robotic Process Automation (RPA), a buzzword in the business world in the late 2010s. This signifies a machine that can automate and therefore replace a hitherto human-conducted process, whether analog or digital. Since the Industrial Revolution, repetitive factory processes have become automated. Instead of the human, blue-collar worker picking up the product to be manufactured and painted, say, the machine does it. More recently, we are seeing digital processes, on computer systems, also becoming possible to automate. Instead of the human, white-collar worker picking up the piece of data from one database and pasting it in another, the machine does it. This is also an AI that the A16Zs of the world would approve of, that can lead to large-scale productivity enhancements. At the same time, this is a type of AI that politicians worry about, since it will inevitably lead to job losses, as it is a substitute to humans rather than a complement. Read more »

Sughra Raza. Light Tricks, Seattle, March, 2022.

Digital photograph.

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Hello Readers and Writers,

We received a large number of submissions of sample essays in our search for new columnists. Most of them were excellent and it was very hard deciding whom to accept and whom not to. If you did not get selected, it does not at all mean that we didn’t like what you sent; we just have a limited number of slots and also sometimes we have too many people who want to write about the same subject. Today we welcome to 3QD the following persons, in alphabetical order by last name:

1. Dilip D’Souza
2. Thomas Fernandes
3. Philip Graham
4. Herbert W. Harris
5. Bonnie McCune
6. Laurie Sheck
7. Peter Topolewski

I will be in touch with all of you in the next days to schedule a start date. The “3QD Magazine” page will be updated with short bios and photographs of the new writers on or before the day they start.

Thanks to all of the people who sent samples of writing to us. It was a pleasure to read them all. Congratulations to the new writers!

Best wishes,

Abbas

by Rachel Robison-Greene

Earlier this month, “No Kings” protests set records for being among the most well attended political protests in recorded American history.  The protests were overwhelmingly peaceful.  On the same day, a politically motivated killer shot two Democratic politicians and their spouses in Minnesota, killing two and critically wounding the others.  Despite the facts being presented regarding all of these events, conspiracy theories quickly spread.  Reports circulated that cities in which protests were held were on fire.  Politicians took to Twitter to spread conspiracy theories about the shootings.  Before all the details were known, Utah’s senior senator Mike Lee took to Twitter to blame the violence on “Marxists.”

The tendency to believe what one hopes is true rather than what is supported by the evidence is far from a new trend in American politics.  One might even think it has become its most distinguishing feature.  In recent years, conspiracy theories have emerged about the pandemic, vaccines, climate change, and the security of the 2020 election, to name just a few.  All of this flies in the face of our ordinary, idealistic attitudes about how people form beliefs.  The idea that humans form beliefs and come to know truths through reviewing evidence and applying reliable reasoning practices is an enduring post-Enlightenment concept.  Recent events demonstrate that it’s not that helpful for understanding how human beings actually think.  Our everyday reasoning may be more grounded in social connectedness and personal insecurity than we ordinarily like to believe. Read more »

“The best evidence we have suggests that early Earth was completely
covered by oceans… (but) to link two amino acids together to make a
protein, you have to remove water. And that would have been impossible
if the amino acids were immersed in an ocean. Life needed some land—
literally a beachhead—to get started.” —geobiologist, Joseph Kirschvink 

Beachhead

Though landbound we were once tiny ships,
submarines, we understand the sea, it undulates
within-around us. Minds bob on timeswells,
are swept by winds that tear and grind us.

Not flawlessly designed, we have weak
moments in our hulls.

Tempted, we run perilously close to rocky spits,
each of us adrift looking for a beachhead,
longing for a place that’s still while everything
around us shifts.

As with Noah’s searching dove
we scan for an isle of earth

where sea is parted
.  ..where past is dead
….  ..where present sits
……  …where life and love
…..  …….can be restarted

by Jim Culleny
6/19/15-Rev,-6/14/25

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by William Benzon

I have been thinking about artificial intelligence and its implications for most of my adult life. In the mid-1970s I conducted research in computational semantics which I used in analyzing Shakespeare’s famous Sonnet 129, “Th’ Expense of Spirit.” In the summer of 1981 I participated in a NASA study investigating ways to incorporate AI in NASA operations and missions. There I learned about an earlier NASA study that had looked into creating self-replicating factories on the moon.

“Wow,” thought I to myself, “does that mean potentially infinite ROI?” How so? “Well, it’s going to cost a lot to develop the initial equipment drop and transport it to the moon, but once that’s been done, and those self-replicating factories and amortized the initial investment, it’s all profit from that point on.” That is, since the factories can replicate themselves without further investment from earth, we can reap the profits from whatever it is that these factories produce, other than more factories.

Now, whether or not that’s actually possible, that’s another question. But it was an interesting fantasy. That’s how AI is, it breeds giddy fantasies in those who catch the bug.

Somewhat later, and in a more sober mood, David Hays and I argued, “Sooner or later we will create a technology capable of doing what, heretofore, only we could.” We also pointed out that “We still do, and forever will, put souls into things we cannot understand, and project onto them our own hostility and sexuality, and so forth.”

There’s plenty of that going around these days. There’s a raft of AI hype that’s been floating around since ChatGPT’s release in late November of 2022. One prominent strain is telling us that we are doomed to be eradicated by an over-ambitious AI. I’m quite sure that that is projective fantasy.

Alas, the threat of massive economic displacement seems far more real to me, and more worrying. Jobs will be lost to AI – it’s already happening, no? – and, while new jobs will be created, it does seem to me that in the long run, job loss will inevitably outpace job creation. That should be a good thing, no? To live among material abundance without the drudgery of soul-destroying work, isn’t that something to be welcomed? In the long run, yes, but in the short and mid-term, no, it is not. We are not ready. We have become addicted to work, at least in the advanced world, and will have trouble adjusting to life without it.

That’s my topic for this column. Read more »

by Eric Feigenbaum

At about 6:30 am, we pulled up to the Labor Ready office in the Central District. My friend – who for the sake of this column will be called Rick – and I were responding to a trespassing call: a woman who was asked to leave the day-labor agency office was refusing.

Now to be clear, I wasn’t a cop – but Rick was and when I would return to Seattle on a break from working in Singapore – the best way to spend time with him was to go on a “ride along”. To make it work better, Rick told people I was a plain clothes officer. To mitigate risk, I spoke little and appeared stoic.

We entered the Labor Ready office, prepared to find an altercation in progress, only to discover a 30ish, short, heavy-set Filipina lady standing in the waiting area talking to herself. The staff told us they had asked her to leave, but she didn’t really seem to understand them.

Rick asked the woman if she could follow him outside and she complied. Through the din of voices in her head, she was able to answer most of Rick’s questions – although not always accurately. We were able to ascertain the woman thought she was Princess Diana, but also had some sense she was reporting for a day-labor assignment. She was aware she wasn’t quite right and articulated that she needed medication – only she had run out and couldn’t afford more.

Protocol said Rick should have issued the woman a Trespassing Card and sent her on her way. That didn’t feel like the right thing to do for this very nice woman clearly struggling with her mental health and trying to make a living. Alternatively, he could have gone heavy and decided to arrest her for trespassing – another path to medication, only through the jail’s healthcare system. But then she would have an arrest on her record and been imprisoned for doing nothing more than talking to herself. Read more »

by Jeroen Bouterse

I have been re-reading Paradise Lost, prompted by the battle between Immortals and demons in the movie Ne Zha 2. The film, if you have not seen it, depicts a ruling party turned into a vehicle for the personal ambitions of its leader. If you ask me, that is; consider yourself warned that I am rather strongly disposed these days to connect everything to contemporary politics.

Paradise Lost provides a temptation in that regard, however you read it. Whether the poem explores forms of resistance after the battle to depose a ruthless dictator has been lost, or whether Satan is an opportunistic agitator, campaigning on draining the swamp but in fact only out to be worshipped himself – or both – modern analogies easily suggest themselves. William Empson compared Milton’s God to Joseph Stalin.[1] If I don’t name names, it is out of respect both for you the reader and for the heroes in Milton’s poem, which are more eloquent, less petty, and show more depth than their present-day authoritarian counterparts.

Still, Milton’s account of the Fall allows us to psychologize. We can indulge in the belief that if people had chosen better, we wouldn’t have been in such a mess right now. I think that should be fun for both of us, or cathartic for me at least. In any case, I am telling you in advance, so that if you continue reading, you don’t “pretend / Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned”.[2] Read more »

by Akim Reinhardt

Donald Trump is a con man. He was that for a very long time before he entered politics. Because he is a con man, it is tempting for critics to describe his presidential victories as successful cons. However, I think that interpretation does not hold up. Because while Trump at his essence may be little more than a sociopathic con man lacking a sophisticated and flexible inferiority, voters and citizens are not simply “marks.” The electorate, especially one as large as the United States’ (over 73 million registered voters), is maddeningly complex. It reflects a stunning amount of views, ideals, fears, and nuance. And the catch is that while the elected government can never hope to fully reflect this complexity, it can unduly influence it.

We become what we set out to destroy. It’s an old chestnut. Oh, the irony of becoming the thing we hate as we dedicate ourselves to its destruction. But for now I am more concerned with a different irony: we become what sets out to destroy us. That we sometimes are buffaloed into thinking our enemy is our friend, mistaking their sneer for a smile, emulating them, falling into their arms, and ultimately doing their bidding. Something like Stockholm Syndrome, perhaps, but even darker, manifested though through thorny seduction instead of hostage taking, and offering little chance for redemption. At best there will be regret, and at worst a permanent transformation.

Why do you end up loving someone who hates you? Because you already hated someone. Read more »

by Angela Starita

Teddy lives in two houses. They’re equally bereft of taste–good or bad. Teddy’s a dog and his nominal doghouse is inside the house of his owner, Jonathan. It’s built inside the closet under a stairway, with its entrance, the side facing Jonathan’s living room, covered in pale rusticated stone.

Jonathan calls it “the world’s most famous doghouse.” In interviews on feel-good segments of news shows, he refers to Teddy as “the world’s most famous dog” and explains that he himself is “blessed with a creative mind.” This last is in reference to the scenarios he dreams up for TikTok videos that feature Teddy as a Rabelaisian prankster interested only in buying toys and treats with Jonathan’s credit card, watching movies, and playing video games. He spends an inordinate amount of time on a couch. 

It’s Teddy’s house that launched him to fame. Jonathan had been making DIY construction videos, and the one that garnered the most views was the closet-to-doghouse conversion. It had hit some collective nerve, the one that delights in miniatures and accounts for the popularity of dollhouses and children’s beauty pageants. Its fitted with a couch, shelves for photos a copy of PlayDog, and a television over a faux fireplace. My favorite of the videos has Jonathan crawling inside for Teddy-hosted sleepovers.

In the two years I’ve been watching Teddy videos, the mise en scene has moved from the doghouse to what I presume is Jonathan’s actual house, a place as scared of distinction as the model home developers “stage” for potential buyers—sparsely furnished in off-whites with names like Chantilly Lace and White Dove. Predictably, the first floor is an open-plan centered around a beige sectional sofa facing a high-definition television. Occasionally there are shots of a dining “area” and, in a behind-the-scenes video, Jonathan shows off his home gym, a room with a treadmill and other equipment. He and Teddy sometimes watch movies in the “home theater” a room with swollen, black recliners presumably facing an even larger screen. Read more »

On a sunny and cloudless day last week, the smoke from Canadian wildfires arrived in the South Tyrolean Alps in the form of this unusual haze. Photo taken from my balcony.

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by Brooks Riley

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by Charles Siegel

Oh the streets of Rome
are filled with rubble
Ancient footprints are everywhere
You can almost think
that you’re seeing double
On a cold, dark night
on the Spanish Stairs

Those are the first lines of “When I Paint My Masterpiece,” a song written by Bob Dylan in 1971. I remember that the first time I heard the tune, I thought it was by The Band, because they actually released it first in September of 1971. Two months later, Dylan’s version came out, oddly enough on the album “Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits Vol. II.”

Many artists have covered the song, most notably the Grateful Dead. They played it 144 times, according to gratefulsets.net. This sounds like a lot, but it means the song doesn’t even make the top 85 in terms of number of live performances by the band. This is because they only began performing it in 1987, and the band stopped playing entirely in 1995 upon the death of their lead guitarist and talisman, Jerry Garcia.

The Grateful Dead ended in 1995, but the band has lived on since then in a series of groups. These groups have contained various original members, gradually decreasing in number. The first was The Other Ones, followed by The Dead. But the longest-lived and most successful has been Dead & Company, which today includes two members of the Grateful Dead: Bob Weir, the rhythm guitarist and vocalist, and Mickey Hart, the drummer. It also includes another drummer, Jay Lane, and the bassist Oteil Burbridge and keyboard player Jeff Chimenti. Finally, there’s John Mayer on lead guitar and vocals.

On a fortunately-timed business trip to Las Vegas last month, I saw Dead & Company on a Thursday night and Friday night. This was the last weekend of their second two-month “residency” at the Sphere, the futuristic new music venue that looks as if it simply fell from outer space and landed a block from the Strip, and now blinks out strange messages all day and night.

If they were tired and happy to be nearing the end of this run, they sure didn’t sound like it.  Read more »

Nirmal Raja. Entangled / The Weight of Our Past, 2022.

More here, here, and here.

Thanks to Sahitya Raja for the introduction.

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by Rafaël Newman

Zurich was James Joyce’s home on several occasions. The writer’s first sojourn there, in 1904, was brief: when the prospect of a job teaching English in Switzerland didn’t pan out, he and his partner, Nora Barnacle, freshly arrived from Dublin, soon moved on to Trieste, then still the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s only seaport. Joyce and Nora returned to Zurich in 1915 and spent most of the Great War there, renting apartments in various districts as Joyce worked on Ulysses and took part in the intellectual life of a city teeming with refugees. Finally, having spent the interwar period for the most part in Paris, by 1940 the couple were back in Zurich, where Joyce died the following year. He remains in the city to this day, in Fluntern Cemetery, where his seated memorial gazes out wryly, if myopically, at Lake Zurich and the Alps beyond.

That the Swiss metropolis boasts the Zürich James Joyce Foundation, however, an internationally renowned center for Joyce research and scholarship, is due less to the Irish writer’s tenancy in the city, in life as in death, than it is to the achievements of another man, a Swiss native and Zurich local named Fritz Senn, who has devoted much of his long life to the study and promotion of Joyce’s work. Among Senn’s many publications are Joyce’s dislocutions: Essays on reading as translation (1984); Nicht nur Nichts gegen Joyce. Aufsätze über Joyce und die Welt (1999); Joycean Murmoirs (2007); and, most recently, Ulysses Polytropos (2022). Senn has founded and edited international journals, initiated Joyce symposia, and, together with Klaus Reichert, compiled the Frankfurt James Joyce Edition, in seven volumes.

The Zürich James Joyce Foundation (ZJJF), which celebrates its 40th birthday this year, was established in 1985 with financial assistance from the Schweizerischer Bankverein (today’s UBS) to house Fritz Senn’s collection of first editions, secondary literature, and Joycean memorabilia, and to allow visiting scholars to profit from Senn’s personal expertise along with the library and archive. The ZJJF holds open reading groups, typically led by Senn himself, in which participants read Ulysses and Finnegans Wake together over the course of many months, and organizes a series of talks, known as the Strauhof Lectures, by noted Joyce specialists. It hosts a translators’ roundtable and regularly stages convivial celebrations of Joyce’s work, with readings and music at Christmas and, of course, a yearly Bloomsday event every June 16, commemorating Joyce and Nora’s first assignation and the date on which Ulysses is set. Read more »