An artificially generated alter-ego

I asked an artificially intelligent machine learning algorithm to draw a concept art character of a 50 year old software developer sitting in a room full of old computer hardware (so essentially, a pretend alter-ego of myself). The result was interesting. I always find it interesting to see what biases artificial intelligence has - how it portrays nationalities, ages, and common stereotypes. It’s interesting to see how it portrays people with different percieved or presumed backgrounds. I asked one of the famous AI platforms to pretend to be this non existent person, and write a blog post - and to base his personality on recent posts in this blog. I half expected guard-rails to kick in and refuse my request. Imagine my surprise when the machinery of the internet turned it’s cogs, and said “fine… here you go:” Here’s an excerpt of what it came up with: I was re-reading an old journal entry this morning - something I scribbled down months ago in a moment of fleeting clarity. It struck me how many of those half-formed ideas, those nascent understandings of myself and the world, still echo within me. They haven’t quite solidified into conclusions, haven’t found their neat little boxes. Instead, they drift like wisps of smoke, occasionally coalescing into a momentary shape before dissolving back into the ether. There’s a certain comfort in this state, I think. A permission to not have all the answers, to reside in the ambiguity of the in-between. Life, after all, rarely presents itself in neatly packaged solutions. More often, it’s a series of unfolding moments, each carrying its own subtle nuances and unresolved threads. I find myself drawn to the spaces where clarity blurs, where the edges of understanding soften. It’s in these liminal zones that the most interesting discoveries often lie – the unexpected connections, the subtle shifts in perspective that reshape the way we see ourselves and the world around us. Am I really that nebulous? I will admit to being endlessly fascinated with computers - and with what their programming comes up with when not given enough information to form what we might deem sensible or plausible answers. I can’t help being reminded of Robin William’s speech in Good Will Hunting - about Will’s invented persona - used to shield from the trauma he had experienced: So if I asked you about art you could give me the skinny on every art book ever written…Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life’s work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. The monologue famously contemplates love, loss, and more - but this small excerpt (for me) says everything about the state of AI at the moment. It’s a parlour trick. Yes, it’s very good at looking things up - it’s read everything, after all - but all that makes it into is an insufferable know-it-all. If it asks after you, it’s not doing so out of empathy - it’s doing so because it’s been told to. There’s a wonderful moment in the movie “AI” where William Hurt is demonstrating the limits of AI to a classroom full of students - he asks a female robot what love is: Professor Hobby: Tell me. What is love? Sheila: Love is first widening my eyes a little bit and quickening my breathing a little and warming my skin and touching with my… Professor Hobby: And so on. Exactly so. Thank you, Sheila. I can’t help wondering how long it will take for artificial intelligence to begin to understand the more complex facets of human interaction - empathy, happiness, sadness, longing, kindness, sorrow, humor. I suspect it will happen faster than we imagine.