Technology and Humanity's Purpose
In a Discord call last night, a friend of mine brought up artificial intelligence. While he feels AI systems are a symbol of technological progress, he also feels that they will lead to a world where human beings are unable to work. I've heard this sentiment before. I responded the usual way; I suggested universalized basic income. Without needing to be productive to survive, people would be happier. But he raised a concern that I've never encountered before: as AI technology advances, it will render creative fields obsolete. If AI can produce creative works— everything from painting to Vocaloid, a form of music that already exists, which includes artificial anime style "idols" drawing from collections of syllables to produce lyrics— it will oversaturate the market. AI will operate at a performance level that human beings could never attain. If there is a constant demand for high-quality work, there will be no point in creative pursuits. Humans will never be able to reach perfection, audiences will demand higher quality in shorter and shorter periods, and organic creations as we know them will become obsolete. Without employment or creative pursuits, people will not have a purpose. After millions of years of innovation, humanity will have nothing left to pursue.
Even so, the fact that human technology has advanced to the potential of sentience indubitably reflects its sheer prowess.
I did not know how to respond to these statements. I had never contemplated AI implications to this extent. I explained that I enjoy others' consumption of my creations, but I have gained more fulfillment from creating something that makes me proud. If I am creating, I will be happy. I would live in a cottage in a rural area (preferably a forest) without financial constraints, surrounded by both wildlife and my gardens. But while this response was true, it did not address his statements at all. It only served to reduce my fear. Another artist in the discussion expressed displeasure at feeling useless. She felt that, without anyone to enjoy her art, it would be rendered meaningless. I would be creatively fulfilled if left to my own devices, but that is not the case for everyone. During the rest of the discussion, I could not come up with a satisfying response. I hope to achieve one here.
Today, productivity is idolized more than ever before. Citizens work to live and strive for perfection. Massive unemployment rates, homelessness, and poverty drive industry in the U.S. Billionaires profit off the exploitation of millions. In response, the shrinking middle class envies the 1%, fears becoming poor, and works until death in the hopes that their children will reach a modicum of success from these earnings. Amid constant social struggles, the growing concentration of wealth, and an unsatisfying government, technology has continued to improve. In the past ten years alone, there have been seven different versions of the iPhone. We have gone from video game immersion being a sci-fi fantasy to Virtual Reality becoming a reality. Programming has become more complex to accommodate new technology, of which robots are a direct product. In 2014, an AI passed the Turing Test for the first time, proving itself sentient. The results of this contest have been widely criticized due to the test's 5-minute time period and possible bias. (BBC News) Even so, the fact that human technology has advanced to the potential of sentience indubitably reflects its sheer prowess.
The issue with this hopelessness is not the reasons behind it, but the way that society has been developed to facilitate hopelessness.
As a result, many people feel limited. The realities of their lives do not resemble the glamour of wealth. Expensive innovations are not accessible to the lower classes. We all see that Elon Musk aided in the creation of Tesla and owns these cars himself, but that does not mean that the common individual can purchase one without going into perilous debt. Robots are increasingly entering the workforce, with many factories becoming fully automated. Unemployment rates remain, and workers are afraid of their jobs being stolen from them by machines. After all, many have worked for decades to build a life for themselves. The thought of that being taken away is painful.
The issue with this hopelessness is not the reasons behind it, but the way that society has been developed to facilitate hopelessness. Feelings of apprehension toward technology are understandable, especially in regards to less traditional fields of employment. The creative industry is highly valued by creators as a means of profit, human connection, and self-expression. But the idea that humans are worthless if they are not constantly producing, that it is not good enough to simply be, that no one will value you if you do not give them something to consume— is horrifying. Are we no longer enough for each other? Have the feelings of isolation due to quarantine been invalidated? Were we only inconvenienced by boredom and loss due to a lack of normalcy, rather than being plagued by a real desire for emotional intimacy? I struggle with these ideas.
To be able to connect with great minds that are free of lines of code is a privilege.
I cannot dictate others' perceptions, but I know my own. I have an innate desire to connect with others. No technological advancement will ever be great enough to reduce the impact of human thoughts and feelings. No AI will reduce my support for a skin and bone artist, performer, or writer. I cannot stand to see the beauty and passion of this world's people be reduced to a supply and demand formula. We have to view ourselves as more than sentient factories. There is meaning in comparing experiences with living people. The illusion of a bond is not a bond— the replication of these experiences depicted by an AI will never take away the value of human vulnerability. To be able to connect with great minds that are free of lines of code is a privilege. People should not be considered unnecessary because a tangle of wires could be faster or more perfect. The ability to have a figure behind the art— a flesh and blood person with a myriad of unique experiences, shaping an individual who could be similar to others, but who has never been created exactly like this— gives depth to an otherwise hollow creation.
A machine whose only purpose is to replicate humanity's stories could be relatable if narrative and personality were assigned to it, but this would make its existence fall flat. The AI would have no real means of connecting to its audience in a meaningful way. While it would be fascinating, I do not think we want to remove ourselves from each other entirely. We need other people for community, friendship, and our sense of self. The presence of human creators in our lives, whether it's in books or another form, is deeply important for the establishment of a personal role in our narratives. Without the works of A.S. King and Maggie Stiefvater, would I even want to be an author? Who would I be if I had not read the Inkheart trilogy, straight off the shelves of my third-grade classroom? Without real people, who have desires and flaws and know what it is like to live in a body and be wronged by another, how could creative industries even exist? Would demands for content undermine the value of individuals to such a large extent?
We need other people for community, friendship, and our sense of self.
The capitalistic notion that people are useless if they are not productive is harmful and inaccurate. To be considered insignificant simply for not benefiting large corporations is damaging. If the only other respectable option is churning out material for others' pleasure, there need to be more options. If we are to be able to pursue happiness, it is a requirement that we demand the removal of elitist limitations on our autonomy. A system that seeks to replace us in favor of profit while simultaneously oppressing BIPOC, women, and queer people cannot serve its citizens. In a time where AI technology serves as a perceived threat to an otherwise difficult reality, we must remember that we have a purpose outside of the lens by which we are taught to view ourselves. People do not have to be productive to have value.