Forget Turing, it’s the Tolkien test for AI that matters

by John Hartley

With CAPTHCHA the latest stronghold to be breeched, following the heralded sacking of Turing’s temple, I propose a new standard for AI: The Tolkien test.

In this proposed schema, AI capability would be tested against what Andrew Pinsent terms ‘the puzzle of useless creation’. Pinsent, a leading authority on science and religion asks, concerning Tolkien: “What is the justification for spending so much time creating an entire family of imaginary languages for imaginary peoples in an imaginary world?”

Tolkien’s view of sub-creation framed human creativity as an act of co-creation with God. Just as the divine imagination shaped the world, so too does human imagination—though on a lesser scale—shape its own worlds. This, for Tolkien, was not mere artistic play but a serious, borderline sacred act. Tolkien’s works, Middle-earth in particular, were not an escape from reality, but a way of penetrating reality in the most acute sense.

For Tolkien, fantasia illuminated reality insofar is it tapped into the metaphysical core of things. The the artistic creation predicated on the creative imagination opened the individual to an alternate mode of knowledge, deeply intuitive and discursive in nature. Tolkien saw this creative act as deeply rational, not a fanciful indulgence. Echoing the Thomist tradition, he viewed fantasy as a way of refashioning the world that the divine had made, for only through the imagination is the human mind capable of reaching beyond itself.

The role of the creative imagination, then, is not to offer a mere replication of life but to transcend it. Here is the major test for AI, for in doing so, it accesses what Tolkien called the “real world”—the world beneath the surface of things. As faith seeks enchantment, so too does art seek a kind of conversion of the imagination, guiding it towards the consolation of eternal memory, what Plato termed ‘anamnesis’. Read more »



Monday, November 14, 2022

Hyperintelligence: Art, AI, and the Limits of Cognition

by Jochen Szangolies

Deep Blue, at the Computer History Museum in California. Image Credit: James the photographer, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

On May 11, 1997, chess computer Deep Blue dealt then-world chess champion Garry Kasparov a decisive defeat, marking the first time a computer system was able to defeat the top human chess player in a tournament setting. Shortly afterwards, AI chess superiority firmly established, humanity abandoned the game of chess as having now become pointless. Nowadays, with chess engines on regular home PCs easily outsmarting the best humans to ever play the game, chess has become relegated to a mere historical curiosity and obscure benchmark for computational supremacy over feeble human minds.

Except, of course, that’s not what happened. Human interest in chess has not appreciably waned, despite having had to cede the top spot to silicon-based number-crunchers (and the alleged introduction of novel backdoors to cheating). This echoes a pattern well visible throughout the history of technological development: faster modes of transportation—by car, or even on horseback—have not eliminated human competitive racing; great cranes effortlessly raising tonnes of weight does not keep us from competitively lifting mere hundreds of kilos; the invention of photography has not kept humans from drawing realistic likenesses.

Why, then, worry about AI art? What we value, it seems, is not performance as such, but specifically human performance. We are interested in humans racing or playing each other, even in the face of superior non-human agencies. Should we not expect the same pattern to continue: AI creates art equal to or exceeding that of its human progenitors, to nobody’s great interest? Read more »