51. Things software can't do
The road to hell is paved with good inventions
I’ll start this post with a few photos. I then want to highlight a few issues relating to AI because, well, we’re all a bit concerned. I saw a lovely photograph (or what I thought was a photograph) on Instagram this morning that, upon reading the text, turned out to be yet another example of promtography (“created by my imagination, generated by Midjourney, edited in Photoshop”). But first, the photos.
The four shots below were captured with an iPhone 15 Pro Max, an upgrade from my 4-1/2 year-old iPhone 11 Pro (which is about 450 years old in technology years). Despite the high cost of Apple products, especially in New Zealand dollars, I wanted to take advantage of the improved imaging capabilities. I passed my old phone down to our eldest son, who passed his down to his younger brother — it’s the trickle-down theory applied to the justification of unnecessary consumption. I’m sure there is some AI tech hidden in this new device somewhere, but I’ll think about that later.
It’s a quiet time of the year in Dunedin. The university students have left and many locals are away for the holidays. Most of the people wandering around seem to be cruise ship passengers exploring the tourist attractions before heading back to Port Chalmers in shuttle buses.
It’s summer here and the days are still long. The weather over the Christmas and New Year holiday period wasn’t as hot or as dry as we would have liked. Still, we had more settled weather than most of the rest of the country, as far as I could tell. Warmer weather will come (and, as we all know, that’s another can of worms). (Actually, what’s wrong with worms? Worms are good. We need another phrase to use as shorthand for a big convoluted knot of wicked problems. Maybe “That’s another board of circuits”).
I often walk into town (less than 30 min. from where we live) for the exercise more than the photos. But if I am looking for things to photograph, I am more observant and attentive. I slow down, look harder, and appreciate what I see more.
This first shot, taken at 9:00 am on the last day of 2023, demonstrates the strength of the clear summer light here in New Zealand, especially in the South Island. I am always struck by the hard edgeness (no, I didn’t mean edginess, it’s a made-up word) of the visual landscape when I return from overseas (an increasingly rare event). This light helps to explain the hard-edge paintings and prints of New Zealand artists like Robin White.
I continued my walk south along George Street and into The Octagon, the civic centre of Dunedin, and I stopped near a yellow bench. I noticed that, from where I was standing, people walking on the footpath on the other side of the street lined up with the top of the bench. I got into position and waited a few minutes until someone with a strong shape and colour came by. I used the 5x telephoto lens on the iPhone, which has a 35mm equivalent 120 mm focal length. The wide depth of field common with lenses on phone cameras meant that both the woman and the bench were in focus, aiding the illusion.
A few days later, I walked into town again. The photo below, of a glass cafe door, was taken in Moray Place, a block south of The Octagon, using the 2x lens. It was the same time in the morning but, on that day, the sky was overcast. Reflections are very sensitive to changes in the intensity of light. I had to study the scene for a while to see how the movement of the clouds changed the contrast and colour saturation. I positioned myself so that the door was framed and a car parked across the street was blocked. Then I waited for a vehicle or person to pass by. I liked the partial view of this woman and the X of her body in mid-stride. X is a shape that communicates No Entry in some contexts, and I liked how it rhymed visually with the CLOSED sign.
When I walked around the corner and past the Disk Den, a shop that sells music in various formats, I saw that the poster in the window had been changed. Amy Winehouse had replaced Elvis Presley (who, presumably, has left the building). The overcast conditions meant that there was a lot more detail and graduations of colour in the background than would have been the case if the sun was shining, and the highlights were not blown out. I positioned myself to the left so Amy’s head was framed by the white car, which I knew would also contrast with anyone walking by. I didn’t have to wait long.
AI took my job, stole my work, and won’t give me a day off
Over the past few months, a truckload of articles have been published proclaiming that 2023 was the year that Artificial Intelligence became a practical reality and that 2024 will be the year when we see how it all pans out. Will this new technology prove to be a net benefit for society? Will it be the end of us? Or will it fall somewhere in between? Many Substack authors have weighed in on this one.
In
, Jason Chatfield asks Is A.I. Art Killing the Live Cartooning Business? He used to earn some of his income from drawing caricatures live at conferences and other events. He explains how readily available AI tools have replaced human labor, including his.People were gleefully posting their A.I.-generated selfies as their social media profile pics, posting stunning cartoon art that was whipped up in microseconds, rendering 20 years of skill obsolete within months.
Chatfield plans to focus on process rather than outcome in a new Substack called Process Junkie.
, the author of On the Commons, discovered that her book, A Walking Life: Reclaiming Our Health and Our Freedom One Step at a Time, was one of the texts used to train AI systems without her knowledge or permission. She was not amused and offered her thoughts on the matter in her essay When you can't walk away., who writes the How Things Work Substack, explains why AI is unlikely to be a boon for workers, even though the technology could improve productivity and make a 4-day work week feasible.The theft of my book, which took years of research and writing to produce, hasn’t done anything to improve my life, and I doubt it has anyone else’s, but it’s certainly contributed to someone acquiring just that bit more wealth, which can then be used, as wealth always has been, to tip the scales of injustice a little bit more in their favor. My cost, their benefit. That is what enclosure is, both historically and currently: taking that which was in use by all or already belonging to someone in one form or another, and making it your own for the purposes of private profit.
The only people capable of deluding themselves into the belief that shareholder capitalism can operate with the aim of collective good are those who have already achieved so much success in that system that they are fully insulated from its reality.
Techno-optimists and the companies and investors behind the big AI initiatives would like us to adopt Alfred E. Neuman’s response to unease, anxiety, and a sense of foreboding. Just go with the flow.
For those so inclined, The Six Million Dollar Man is now on sale for just twenty bucks a month. It’s a no-brainer so don’t even think about it.
If you have lingering doubts about that Elon Musk brain enhancement app your friend recommended, you can always go into settings and turn “auto updates” off (if you’ve already had a dream about electric sheep and how you can stop them from organizing, it’s too late).
If you want to secure one of the unlimited number of exclusive front-row seats at ABBA’s soon-to-be-announced 2050 Warming the Planet virtual online concert, then you should book your chance-of-a-(second)lifetime experience now. The server farms are ready to be fired up to manufacture the required assets. If you like the stars, you’ll love their ABBA-tars. Help them meet their net-zero human content target. The AI call center operators are standing by and you’ve been pre-approved for payment.
If you find all of this a bit overwhelming and depressing, I suggest that you leave the virtual reality headset you got for Christmas at home and go for a long walk in no particular direction to nowhere in particular for no particular reason. I’ll meet you there. While we’re walking, let’s think about all the things we can do that software can’t. I’ve started a list.
Things software can’t do
It can show you the shortest route to walk home but it can’t feel the cool grass under bare feet, hear the snow crunching under warm boots, or smell the autumn leaves gathered into a pile big enough to jump into. It can render rain convincingly but it can’t watch, totally absorbed, as raindrops hit a window and race to the bottom of the glass, distorting the shapes of people hurrying past with raised umbrellas. It can tell you the current temperature, humidity, and wind speed but it can’t appreciate the choreography of clouds as they hover over a city like blimps, sail over an ocean like ships, or race across an open plain like horses. It can measure your kitchen cabinets and list the distances between the planets, but it can’t enjoy the satisfying spacing between strangers in a public park, boys racing past on scooters, or birds sitting on a wire. It can tell you the value of every stock in the S&P 500 but it can’t treasure a smile from a passing stranger, notice the way a dress billows in the wind, or appreciate how long hair falls over a child’s back. It can tell you when the best sales are happening, when your favorite program is on, and when the next bus leaves from the nearest stop but it can’t observe the calmness of water on a still day, bask in bright sunlight after the rain, or sense the coming of spring. It can write a country song faster than you can say “You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille” but it can’t make without taking, create without faking, or ache like a heart breaking. It can tell you a lame joke but it can’t giggle with delight, laugh out loud, or tell you how many servers it takes to screw in a lightbulb. You: How many servers does it take to screw in a lightbulb? ChatGPT: Jokes like these play on the distinction between software (like servers) and hardware (like lightbulbs), which are often managed by different people or departments in technology environments. It can give you what you want but it can’t help you find what you need. It can track your daily movements and your passage through every entrance and exit but it wasn’t there to hold you when you came into this world, screaming, and it won’t be at your side when you leave, reluctantly, but grateful to have lived.
What’s next?
It’s hard to predict. You can be forgiven for not wanting to think about it. Like others, I am concerned about what might lie ahead. In 2024, we can look forward to Israel continuing its devastating war on Palestinians, another very contentious election in the U.S. of A., rapid uptake of increasingly sophisticated Artificial Intelligence tools, and a lot of people who will be looking for a place to show off their deep fakes and vent. And here we are, on a welcoming platform with an almost complete lack of moderation.
Like many of us on Substack, I’ve considered my options. As my driver training instructor used to say, “Always leave yourself an out”. Check your rearview mirrors often, Keep your eyes on the road, and assume that someone is about to do something really stupid and dangerous. Be prepared to take evasive action.
The beginning of a new year is a good time to reconsider where we are and what we are doing, and to see if we can slim down our online lives a bit (not to mention our real-world selves). I still have a Facebook account that I haven’t used for years, a Twitter (now X) account that I haven’t posted to in a very long time, and an Instagram account that I’ve been promising myself I would close, as it’s no longer a good place to be. I purchased a Pro plan on Flickr when it seemed like a good idea, but I stopped using it.
I still have an old Wordpress.com website that I could dust off but it’s a historical artifact from an earlier life and career. More recently, I registered a domain name, downloaded WordPress from Wordpress.org, paid for a hosting plan, sourced a set of templates, and designed a website that I had more control over. It was difficult, time-consuming, and required too much maintenance. I’ve hardly used it. I’m still paying for a Squarespace account that I planned to use as my online base. I might finish that and get rid of the rest. But I’ll remain on Substack for the time being.
Update (Jan. 17, 2024)
If you’ve been hanging around here over the past couple of months, you would be aware of the current debate that has been playing out on Substack (AKA “The Nazi Problem”). Social media platforms provide a patch of dirt and supply us with a holster. We’re all packin’, and some of us are pretty trigger-happy. Shots get fired. It’s easy to get caught up in the excitement and shoot from the hip before thinking, hoping to impress others with a quick draw and impressive aim. But, sometimes, our aim is no better than our judgment, and our judgment isn’t always as good as we think. Whatever else you’ve read about this issue, I would recommend that you also read the following before drawing your weapon.
Why The Kākā is staying on Substack by Bernard Hickey.
Platformer’s Reporting On Substack’s Supposed “Nazi Problem” Is Shoddy And Misleading by Jesse Singal
There Are Major Factual Issues With Jonathan M. Katz’s ‘Atlantic’ Article, “Substack Has A Nazi Problem” by Jesse Singal
These Rules About Platforming Nazis Sure Seem Arbitrary and Incoherent! by Freddie deBoer
How to Quit Substack by Freddie deBoer
What do you think?
You are invited to leave a comment below.
Some poignant thoughts on where we are Mark. As for AI, John Naughton’s articles in the Observer are a good weekly read for me. They challenge the hype while acknowledging the reality.
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2023/dec/30/ai-artifical-intelligence-2023-long-term-impact-nvidia-h100-microsoft
Just discovered your page(?) and enjoying your photography. I came to this country, from Scotland, in 1989 and still to this day I love the shade of blue of the sky , I still stop and look up, something to do with that sharpness you talked about I guess. And definitely unique to NZ