The first time I took a phone call on my watch, I felt like Dick Tracy.
The sad thing is, that’s not even scratching the surface of my nerd status. My Mom is a Trekkie. I grew up steeped in Star Trek and Dr. Who. My vision of the future was set. I wasn’t the kind of geek that spent much time hacking around on computers as a kid, but I definitely had a vision of what a computerized future would be like. It began with having a natural conversation with the computer, just like they could on the Enterprise. It evolved into Max Headroom, and, even at a young age, I was beginning to think through, at least at a rudimentary level, that dystopian future in which the machines were as intelligent as we are and “off” buttons were illegal.
While that concept of the future evolved with the fog, blue lights and lasers that marked a lot of 90’s prime-time science fiction, I didn’t know…and most don’t…that the idea of artificial intelligence wasn’t new. It had roots some decades before. It began at Dartmouth in 1956, with a symposium of experts. By the time I was a child imagining a brave new world of the intelligent droids in Star Wars, this thought process was well underway by many academics.
In fact, David Noble argues that the concepts can be traced as far back as Descartes, who was obsessed with the theory that the body held back the mind from achieving it’s potential.1 For Descartes, pure thought was closest to God. He popularized a theology in which a human is only mind and body, not mind, body and soul, which would leave later thinkers no room for spirituality. The mind was the ultimate state of human-kind in this thought process.
Later, George Boole reduced thought to a mathematical formula. His binary logic became the foundation for modern computing.
Turing, eventually an atheist, invented the “Turing test,” which stated (I’m over-simplifying a bit) that if a human user could not differentiate a machine’s response from a human response, the machine was deemed to be intelligent. Turing saw a future in which we would build machines that would more intelligent that humans.
AI inevitably combined with the field of cybernetics, forming an endeavor beyond artificial intelligence that was known as artificial life. Enthusiasts of this theory believe that, as artificial intelligence becomes general and self aware, humans will have created a new species, one with which we can eventually merge and, because the mind is the ultimate in human experience, live forever in cybernetic form. Ghost in the Shell, realized.
The theological flaws are evident in this worldview. First, because it’s adherents (inasmuch as they are religious at all…most of the original thinkers had little space or patience for religion or theology) hold to a reductionist view of man, there is no awareness that we cannot create a soul in a new species. If we can manage to create an artificial mind, that is good enough. Secondly, creation in its current state is viewed as inferior. There is no tolerance for humanity, as beautiful as it can be. Only the flaws are seen, accompanied by an honest belief that it can be reformed into something completely different and better.
If you, like me, are thinking of Shelly’s Frankenstein monster here, I assure you you’re not alone. And we shouldn’t be surprised. As the world around us is reduced to unemotional data, we already are seeing an attempt to extinguish art by generative AI. The logic can only follow that this world would ignore the warnings sounded by science fiction writers through the ages that this isn’t going to end well. As Tillich said, artists are the prophets of their time. Prophets, however, can hardly exist in a world that is only data, in which humanity’s essence is only mind.
To this, I would push back with a theological response. Humanity doesn’t need to be improved upon. We are created in God’s image, and, with all of our flaws, are capable of great beauty, compassion, and creativity. Humanity needs to be brought back into its original state, which is the process of redemption, the end goal of the Divine plan already underway. Part of humanity’s state is a soul, something that can’t be quantified or reduced to an algorithm, something that can thus only be created ex nihilo…and not by us.
Realizing a Ghost in the Shell future of humans melding with machines is a future in which humanity is ruined. Preserving our humanity is a worthy goal, but this process achieves exactly the opposite. A true cyberpunk future must be avoided, and avoiding it involves waking up. To say that AI is “just” another innovation…to ignore the prophetic warnings from screen and page that have confronted us for so long…is hopelessly naive. And yet, that naiveté has spread through our culture with a contagion fueled by money and power-seeking. If history shows us anything, it is how difficult those forces are to stop.
So, a future has been realized. It’s not the one that many of us want, but rather one that is forced upon us by technological optimists with too much power. We can’t opt out, as it were. Our only hope is to try to survive, and hope that others wake up before it’s too late.
I’m not optimistic.
1. The source of my historical summary here is David Noble’s “The Religion of Technology: The Divinity of Man and the Spirit of Invention.” I highly recommend this book as a historical treatment for the background of much our technological climate.