MYou love technology, but you can’t deny that it has made friendships easier. In an ideal world, you would spend quality time together, have deep and meaningful chats on the phone, and exchange thoughtful and insightful texts. But when you’re busy, tired, or just not in the mood, sending a meme or a quick video can be very reassuring, knowing you’re staying in touch. result.
Last week, my horribly omniscient algorithm provided me with an Instagram reel of incredibly realistic 3D holes painted by street artists on New York sidewalks. As people tried to pass by, they glanced down and saw the hole and panicked, feeling that they might have fallen and hit the ground, even though of course the pavement was flat and solid. I thought it was interesting and clever, so I emailed it to a friend and thought she’d agree. Instead, he told me in very sure terms that because the clip was AI, there were no 3D halls, no street artists, and no passersby. Heck, New York might not even exist—we can’t be sure of anything at this point.
It felt like I was wearing a tinfoil hat. I can’t believe I didn’t asked a question It’s all a moment. Talk about naive, stupid, and out of line. Feeling embarrassed, I tried to distract myself in a healthy way by focusing on my so-called friends. Should he have (figuratively) pissed on my bonfire like that? Perhaps it was better to leave me in this blissful ignorance. It’s obviously going to be a cold day in hell until I forward the video to him again. Next time I’ll send him a long voice note, but he only has himself to blame.
What is the etiquette when breaking the news that you shouldn’t have believed someone’s eyes? This may not seem like an important question, but it needs to be solved because AI is not going anywhere. (I always say “please” and “thank you” to Alexa, and I hope she remembers this when she takes charge.) We must decide on a collective strategy.
Telling someone that a video that fascinated, entertained, and excited them wasn’t real is simply telling the truth on the surface. The problem is they didn’t ask and were happier not knowing. It’s not only ruining their fun and extinguishing a moment of joy in this increasingly bleak life, it’s ruining their entire concept of belief and faith. Perhaps it’s the same as an atheist pointing out plot holes in the Bible to a deeply religious person. It’s probably best to leave it to them.
But AI can be dangerous (not Alexa, I love you). If we don’t learn to question it, we’re likely to fall prey to increasingly sophisticated uses in the wrong hands. Is it kindness to warn an AI? Necessary evil? insurance? It may feel stupid for a moment, but if it keeps you from getting scammed in the future, it’s worth it.
In a recent essay written by an AI expert and investor that went viral, Matt Schumer compared tech muggles’ current thinking about AI to how in February 2020, everyone thought there was no need to worry about a virus in faraway China. You may remember how that turned out. “I think we are in the ‘this seems like a big deal’ phase of something much bigger than COVID-19,” Schumer wrote.
After all, you don’t have to worry about policy on this issue. Because the AI will win anyway. Either it comes looking for our dignity – first tricking us with funny little videos, then emptying our bank accounts – or it comes to protect our lives, doing the job faster and better on our behalf. Or both. It’s not “if,” it’s “when.”
Suddenly, seeing footage of a kitten and a baby raccoon being best friends, wearing matching costumes, and mastering intricate dances like the band playing as the Titanic sinks doesn’t seem so bad.
