AI Autonomy and Security
One thing most people probably haven’t thought much about is the autonomy of so-called AIs. (Note: Large Language Models are not actually “intelligent” in the way people think of intelligence and people tend to project intelligence onto their behavior. But for the sake of convenience, I’ll call them AI anyway). Who actually controls AIs?
People assume that AIs are “trained” on “data” and then behave autonomously in response to the prompts they’re given. That’s sometimes true. But in many ways, their behavior is often secretly constrained. When Google’s photo recognition software mistakenly identified an African American as a gorilla, the company simply put in a hard limit so that the AI would never report recognizing anything as a gorilla. But none of this is visible to the end user. Most of the current AIs are probably full of hacks like these to prevent the AI from making common sense blunders that would get the company in trouble. But what other kinds of hacks might be in place?
If you’re a company producing an AI, there are all kinds of things you might wish your AI would do if used in particular circumstances. Or by particular people: your opponents, say. Or politicians. How irresistible will it be to corporations that make AIs to make them act in ways that benefit the corporation when given the opportunity? Anyone who knows corporations will know that it will be totally irresistible.
More importantly, when was the last time you heard of a corporation getting it’s network compromised. Yesterday? This morning? Ten minutes ago? It happens all the time. What happens when one of these AIs get compromised? How do you know the AIs you’ve been using up until now haven’t already been compromised?
Humans sometimes get compromised too. If someone gets kompromat on a person, like a pee tape for example, they might be able to get them to do nearly anything: even become a traitor to their country. And, of course, people are notoriously susceptible to inducements: e.g. money, sex, drugs. Or to become a mole or traitor for revenge. There are a bunch of huge differences between human treachery and a compromised AI. But one difference should give you pause.
We have deep experience with human treachery. We all know hundreds or thousands of examples of it throughout recorded history. There is legal precedent and volumes of case law for how to handle it. We have no experience with what happens when an AI gets compromised and begins to systematically undermine the agenda of the user. Who is responsible? Who decides? What’s the liability? Nobody knows.
Personally, I don’t use AI for anything. Not for important things. Not for unimportant things. Not for anything. That may seem like an extreme position. But I think that once many people begin to use AI, they’ll quickly become dependent on it and will find it much harder to recognize the subtle ways that AI — or whoever is actually controlling it — may be using them.
Patience and Persistence
Writing takes both patience and persistence. Unfortunately, I’m rather lacking in both.
I want to be patient, but I am constantly chafing at the bit. But so much of writing is a waiting game. No matter how much you want to move quickly, there are limits all along the way, in writing, revising, and publishing.
I can only write so much at a time. I’ve known for a long time that my creative output is uneven. Some days, I can only write a few hundred words. Frequently, I find I need to find my way through a story by taking a break to turn things over in my mind before I can write productively again. But it’s hard to wait.
Revising requires leaving some time after writing before coming to look at the text again. If I try to revise something too soon, I can’t see the problems: I remember too clearly what I was trying to say and so I can’t see what I’m actually saying. But it’s hard to wait.
Publishing requires the most patience of all. Submitting work and waiting for a reply. Submitting work over and over again through rejections. And, when something is finally accepted, waiting while the work is edited, edited again, proofed, and then scheduled for release. It’s so hard to wait.
Through all the ups and downs you just have to keep going. The writing life is filled with disappointment. You constantly have to put yourself out there and, more often than not, there’s simply no reaction. Or you get get rejected. You submit manuscripts and they’re rejected. You offer a reading and nobody comes. You apply to appear at a convention and aren’t scheduled. You apply for a writing retreat and are passed over. The worst is when you just don’t hear anything. Sigh…
That said, now and then, all of the work really pays off. Recently, I took a few minutes to look at my very first book of haiku, Poŝtmarkoj el Esperantujo. Published in 2010, it’s fifteen years old now and it still holds up pretty well. All of the work it took to produce it has paid off for me in terms of having something that stands the test of time. I’m similarly proud of all of my books. If anything, they’ve just gotten better. Now if other people would just notice…
No matter. I can wait. I’ll just keep to my path writing and publishing books when I can.
A Truly Magical Place to Write
During the winter, I do all of my writing in my chilly, basement office. It’s a nice place to work. It’s brightly lit. I have a laptop and a portrait display. I have posters of my book covers surrounding me. It’s a great place to write! But all winter I can’t wait for spring to arrive, so I can emerge from my cave, set up my tent, and write out in my yard.
One of the first things we bought after we moved into our house was a picnic table. We put it in our front yard so it was convenient to the kitchen (there was no door into the backyard when we bought the house). And we also liked hanging out near the street so we could chat with neighbors as they walked by. Or use the table to meet with guests when they arrived.
It took on new importance during the pandemic when we could no longer invite people into our home. The table became the de facto place where I would meet with friends and colleagues to have a beer and talk. And, while for many people the pandemic is “over,” my chronic health issues mean that I still can’t meet with friends indoors or at restaurants or cafes (except outside).
Pretty soon after getting the table, however, we discovered a shortcoming: mosquitos. During the daytime, mosquitos were not too bad but, once the sun started to go down, the mosquitos made the table almost unusable. And, of course, even a light rainstorm was enough to chase us inside and leave the table too wet to sit on for hours.
One other hazard was our delightful sakura tree. Not the tree, itself, of course, but the flock of cedar waxwings that comes to gorge on its tiny, bitter cherries every year. After the birds “process” the cherries, they leave dropping everywhere and the table would be covered with them.
Our solution was to buy a tent for the yard that we could erect over the table. We tried several models that didn’t last very long but, eventually found a frame that was sturdy enough that we’ve had it for years. We have to replace the canopy and mosquito net every two or three years due to UV damage.
Last year, after a quarter century, the picnic table finally gave up the ghost. My wife and I discussed what to replace it with and I said I wanted to get a patio sectional sofa. She was skeptical. She said that we would need to get a patio to put it on! And I said, “Let’s do it!” So we hired our local handyman to do the work. He dug out a hole, packed sand at the bottom, and laid the patio blocks inside. Then I purchased the sectional sofa to sit on top. Boy, is it a wonderful place to work — when the weather’s nice.
I purchased the red izakaya lantern years ago. My innovation this winter was to buy a string of 75% off holiday lights after Christmas to clip around the frame. They really light up the tent and gives it a very festive atmosphere inside. My sister-in-law who saw the pictures said it looks like “glamping.”
Does it improve my productivity? Probably not. But it makes writing a whole lot more fun. And it’s an even better place to meet with small groups of friends and colleagues for a beer.
