Archives for posts with tag: unethical

It is a hard time to be a skeptic about Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) or to give it its more proper title in its current iteration: Machine Learning. What do I mean by hard time? Well, there are plenty who accuse those who do not wholly embrace A.I. tools as being modern Luddites, people against any kind of progress (that is a slanderous gross misinterpretation of the position the Luddites held, but I digress…). Just look at the stock market and all the money pouring into A.I. research say the true believers. For those who have never heard of a bubble; I have a bridge to sell you.

Then we could ask, what do I mean by skeptic? This is a surprisingly nuanced question when it comes to Machine Learning. I believe Machine Learning can do some interesting and useful things in our world. However, I do not believe that we are in any way asking the right questions or placing the right guardrails to protect those without whom these machine learning tools would not exist. I’m talking about those whose work is used to train A.I., are given no credit, and stand to suffer the most from a race to the bottom to find a machine that can do a good enough job to replace a costly human and make someone else a billionaire. I’m not a skeptic about Machine Learning. I am skeptical about people and our seemingly limitless capacity to exploit any opportunity, disguise it as something else, and then abdicate any responsibility for the consequences.

Mathematician Marcus Du Sautoy in an entertaining book, The Creativity Code: Art and Innovation in the Age of AI, acts as a proponent of Machine Learning. At the same time the author is having a self-confessed existential crisis over whether he is being put out of a job as a mathematician by A.I.  Ultimately, the book fails due to the author’s lack of an ethical framework for this discussion. Written in 2019, that’s before the days of Chat GPT kiddies, Mr. Du Sautoy uses Eva Lovelace as a jumping off point for his existential exploration of all things Machine Learning.

Eva Lovelace, born in 1815, was an English writer and mathematician and is frequently called the first computer programmer. She was also a colleague of Charles Babbage, the inventor of the Difference Engine and proposer of its follow up the Analytical Engine. It is Lovelace who is credited with the intellectual leap of understanding that the Analytical Engine was not just a calculation machine. That once a machine understood numbers it could be applied to all sorts of subjects where numbers could take the place of other values. She is also famously known for a quote seeming to pour scorn on A.I.

 “The Analytical Engine has no pretensions whatever to originate anything. It can do whatever we know how to order it to perform. It can follow analysis; but it has no power of anticipating any analytical relations or truths.”

Mr. Du Sautoy ultimately believes that Ada Lovelace was mistaken, but I feel this is more down to interpretation rather than to clinical facts. What the author does rightly acknowledge is that data is the fuel of A.I. That access to data will probably be the oil of the 21st century. Where he fails is in not grappling with the consequences of data as fuel and its ethical ramifications. “Don’t worry about all those people in the Middle East, they don’t matter considering all that oil that’s right under their feet,” the writer seems to be saying.

In the Creativity Code, there is some interesting exploration of how the use of algorithms is teaching us about how humans think about subjects and how we go about creativity. To unlock the human algorithm. It is particularly insightful to recognize that the creative leap is not to create new things, but to recognize when one of those new things may have value to others.

While Mr. Du Sautoy worries about his own profession, he is all to ready to write off whole armies of other creative people because he does not consider the work they do to have value. Whether that is to write business articles or reports, or to write background royalty free music. He fails to realize that it is this “bread and butter” creative work that allows writers and composers to work on projects more dear to their hearts. The author seems to believe that this “drudge work” is holding them back from doing more interesting things. No, it’s the money these creatives charge that has an impact on the bottom line and Machine Learning is cheaper. These creative people will not have more time for more interesting work. They will be unemployed. That the previous work of the creatives is used by machine learning as part of its training data, its fuel, is of course just salt in the wound.

Indeed, Mr. Du Sautoy blithely admits that he asked a Machine Learning tool to write a section of the book for him. In a fit of worry about plagiarism, he hunts down an almost identical article on the internet – but then keeps it in the book saying; “if I get sued for plagiarism, we can then agree that this is a bad idea.”

This book probably suffers from being a book of its time, before there was seemingly endless hype and not enough skepticism surrounding Machine learning. And it is such a shame as the book is genuinely entertaining. The section on the game Go in particular raises some interesting questions. However, the lack of ethical awareness is unforgivable and tarnishes this otherwise interesting and entertaining volume.

I rarely write book reviews about books I don’t like.

I don’t believe I’ve ever written about a book I despise.

I have never read a more immoral and unethical book than Robert Greene’s “The 48 Laws of Power.” It does not have a luxury of the possible satirical nature of Machiavelli’s “The Prince;” a book that Mr. Greene quotes extensively. It also has no excuse of being from a different age given its original publication date of 1998.

The 48 Laws of Power is a book that argues that we all should lie, cheat, and steal to get what we want and hold on to what we have. It argues that customers and colleagues are marks to be taken advantage of. Friends are to be feared and loyalty is valueless; other than as something to exploit. The book seems to be saying that everyone is out for themselves, and so to do anything other than to be looking out for one’s self makes you a fool.

This outlook, of course, flies in the face of pretty much all current management theory and treats all interactions as a zero-sum game: there must be a winner and a loser in everything. It ignores the work of mathematician John Nash Jr. and the prisoner’s dilemma. In fact, it is interesting that the book does not mention the prisoner’s dilemma and the bias that groups have towards cooperation.

The book is filled with historical examples and examples from myth. However, these examples are cherry picked and contain little historical context and no moral framework. An advisor keeps quiet about their fears of following Napoleon into war, because they ultimately feel they will fail and therefore cause their own downfall – never mind all the people who died at the battle of Waterloo, so long as the advisor keeps their “power.” The book fundamentally misinterprets the failures of the Treaty of Versailles, and by way of repudiation, the success of the Marshall Plan.  It claims Claudius pretended to be a fool to seize power, rather than someone who by happenstance became emperor and, by being highly educated, a highly effective administrator.

This book endorses the worst fears about politicians and managers that are held by those who elect them or follow them. A reading of this book, taking as fact that this is how all those in power do, or should, behave essentially makes the case for revolution and collectivism. If everyone is only out for themselves, and you can’t trust anything anyone says, then what use are leaders? People infected (and I use those words with great care) by the thought processes in this book have no place in the modern workplace.

This book also provides instructions on conning people, in creating a cult (not kidding), and scapegoating the innocent to protect one’s own position. The book endorses narcissistic behavior and manipulation to seduce people and is generally sociopathic.

And it’s a shame.

For this book does contain a lot of good information. Its problems lie in its total lack of a moral framework. The book also has merit for anyone who feels they may be being manipulated, to understand the mindset and tools of the manipulator. But these arguments are a stretch for a book of this length and depth. I think a good barometer for organizations, is upon seeing this book on a bookshelf, to ask those around you what they thought of it. Those that embrace it, rather than act with revulsion at its amorality, should be treated as this book itself would recommend treating them – with distrust and suspicion.

This is not a good book. It puts forward a dangerous point of view because there are people who will, and I’m sure do, use this as a manual to scheme and manipulate those around them – and think that it is okay to do so. This book is almost everything that is wrong with the world today, and everything that is wrong with business – ever.

There way are better explanations of how to view the world and the behaviors of others, and even on how to get ahead in the workplace. It is hard to find one that has such an ugly view of people, society, and history.