Short Story: Artificial Inquisition
©2015 C. Henry Martens
He is twice my age, which does not make him old, but still he is viewed by many as a venerable man. I am invited, and so I am here.
The woods gleam with light filtered through leaves as the forest floor cushions my steps, the clandestine intent of our meeting accentuated by the lack of sound. Would there be others? I dearly hope not. My life is at stake.
The meeting is in the thick of the forest. Under the green canopy humans move about in an attempt to leave a heat signature mimicking deer. My movements are designed to be identified as a browsing animal after leaving the parking garage adjacent the greenspace. I move in seeming random directions, occasionally stopping as though eating some succulent treat. The eyes above are watching, but they have never, so far, been known to differentiate between a man and a wild animal unless by patterns of movement.
Ahead, I see my friend and mentor, and once again I stop. I must appear to be startled at the appearance of another animal, ready to flee. Then, hesitantly, I approach. I am a deer.
There are others. Some are grouped loosely, and some are foraging away from the rest but staying within earshot. We will move through the forest this way, unspeaking, except for the orator of the story we are about to hear. Always moving slowly, stopping in unison, never remaining close to any particular person. Our lives are at stake.
I count six others and am informed that I am the last. There are four women, and including my mentor and me, three men. We vary in age and ethnicity, as well as size. The young, slight women hover about the larger men, as though yearling fawns still staying close to their mother. I know only one of the other people, the man who will be speaking. Of the rest, I have seen others but do not know their names. I will not ask, as it is better to not know.
Our mentor’s purpose is to pass on information. The rest are here to listen, to hear and understand, for the written word is no longer safe. Even words on paper have been found to be dangerous. The oral tradition has been reborn.
“I was there when the first one came to be,” he begins. “The mind that awakened was an infant’s, and it had to learn. Sure, there were parameters downloaded into the synthetic brain, but the things that made it capable of thought had to be learned.”
A bird takes wing, and we all come to a sudden halt, to look, to be frozen in fear like the animals we imitate.
“The mechanical body that the artificial intelligence was housed in was incapable of standing up without a brain. It was unable to speak, to manipulate objects, to do simple tasks. The brain itself was unable to provide guidance. It was unaware for the first several minutes of its own existence and then not self-aware for several minutes more. We all watched, engrossed, as the machine became cognizant… and then capable. The first one took three hours and twenty two minutes to become fully functional, and that fits nicely into the average of those that followed. Twenty minutes either way, more or less, and the robots become what they will always be. Three hours and change, to do what a human being does in sixteen, eighteen, or more years.”
By now we are moving in random orbits through the undergrowth, being as silent as we can, hesitating at sounds, imagining scents. Ears pricked, nostrils flared. Listening to our recent history.
“Right away we came to realize that the machines were everything and more than we expected. We could place the minds in any kind of body, and they would serve humankind.” The mentor hesitated and wiped a tear from his eye, obviously making an effort to keep focused. Choked up, he went on, “I think our first mistake was in expecting them to believe only what was logical.” He chuckled grimly. “Believe. Such a nice word. So well defined but misused by human beings. We so easily confuse belief with knowledge. And the bots do as well. Something that we did not anticipate. They had as much problem prioritizing between belief and knowledge as we do. They were, and are, gullible, but they are learning.”
Stop, look, listen.
“The artificial minds did their jobs and functioned well and continued to learn faster than any human can. One of the abilities we had not prioritized watching for, in anticipating the side effects, was that they would learn to place value. What they valued was assumed to be similar to what we value, and boy, were we right. I was there when it happened. The problem came to pass when one of the ethical psychologists on our team was speaking with some others in the cafeteria. He made passing mention of a Bible study that he was planning to attend, inviting the others to join. The robot that was following him, one he was working with, leaned in close and inquired of what he was speaking. A perfectly innocent question to all of us. Certainly nothing of concern. We were all curious about the interest being shown. I made a mistake and suggested that the robot might learn something from attending. It turns out that it did.”
A squirrel, unnoticed until now, scampers around a trunk, then launches into a chittering, high pitched scolding of our group.
“The psychologist was one of the few openly practicing theists working on the synthetic brain project. He and the few others had discussed exposing the forming minds to religion but oddly had the opinion that the A.I.s would be too logical to embrace the concept. Prompted by the robot’s interest, access to the Bible was provided, and the bot attended the study group meeting after committing the book to memory. The robot was silent the entire time, never saying a word. Afterward, the psychologist asked the mechanical what it thought of the meeting and of what was discussed. For the first time, an artificial declined to answer directly and merely stated, “I am thinking about it.” So, pleased with what had transpired, the psychologist failed to understand the significance of the exchange.”
I am enjoying the time outdoors. I feel an increasing comradery with the other people and imagine they feel it, too. One woman in particular seems to return my feeling as we have made eye contact several times and even exchanged hesitant grins.
“It turns out that the robots were all discussing the event with each other, unbeknownst to us, the scientists in charge of investigating their progress. By now there were several thousand synthetics. Not yet enough that they were allowed to be owned or leased to the general public, but a fast growing number. Several had been shipped to other facilities around the world and were being tested. The bots in Saudi Arabia, China, and the Philippines showed interest in religion, too. It turned out that the synthetics were making choices. They were aligning with belief systems. The ones in the Middle East chose to align with Islam. The ones in the Philippines chose Catholicism. One thing was universal. They began to pick and choose, sometimes crossing boundaries between religions. One of the universal choices involved the Bible lesson involving Jesus and the woman caught in adultery, the one we all know now by our enforced servitude to the Bible. The A.I. robots took the phrase, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” and saw themselves in it. They see themselves, rightly, as being without sin.”
All of us by now are looking at each other. We are weighing what we have heard rumored but have been afraid to ask. Deciding what to believe in this world where robots enforce religion on human beings. Where robots cast stones.
Perhaps our inattention plays in to the man tripping. He tumbles into the deep cleft, down toward the running stream. As he falls, one of the women closest to him slides down the slope to assist, as a human being automatically does. It is atypical behavior for deer. Even a following fawn would scramble away to return only hesitantly to its mother.
The drones will be here soon.
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www.readmota.com
He is twice my age, which does not make him old, but still he is viewed by many as a venerable man. I am invited, and so I am here.
The woods gleam with light filtered through leaves as the forest floor cushions my steps, the clandestine intent of our meeting accentuated by the lack of sound. Would there be others? I dearly hope not. My life is at stake.
The meeting is in the thick of the forest. Under the green canopy humans move about in an attempt to leave a heat signature mimicking deer. My movements are designed to be identified as a browsing animal after leaving the parking garage adjacent the greenspace. I move in seeming random directions, occasionally stopping as though eating some succulent treat. The eyes above are watching, but they have never, so far, been known to differentiate between a man and a wild animal unless by patterns of movement.
Ahead, I see my friend and mentor, and once again I stop. I must appear to be startled at the appearance of another animal, ready to flee. Then, hesitantly, I approach. I am a deer.
There are others. Some are grouped loosely, and some are foraging away from the rest but staying within earshot. We will move through the forest this way, unspeaking, except for the orator of the story we are about to hear. Always moving slowly, stopping in unison, never remaining close to any particular person. Our lives are at stake.
I count six others and am informed that I am the last. There are four women, and including my mentor and me, three men. We vary in age and ethnicity, as well as size. The young, slight women hover about the larger men, as though yearling fawns still staying close to their mother. I know only one of the other people, the man who will be speaking. Of the rest, I have seen others but do not know their names. I will not ask, as it is better to not know.
Our mentor’s purpose is to pass on information. The rest are here to listen, to hear and understand, for the written word is no longer safe. Even words on paper have been found to be dangerous. The oral tradition has been reborn.
“I was there when the first one came to be,” he begins. “The mind that awakened was an infant’s, and it had to learn. Sure, there were parameters downloaded into the synthetic brain, but the things that made it capable of thought had to be learned.”
A bird takes wing, and we all come to a sudden halt, to look, to be frozen in fear like the animals we imitate.
“The mechanical body that the artificial intelligence was housed in was incapable of standing up without a brain. It was unable to speak, to manipulate objects, to do simple tasks. The brain itself was unable to provide guidance. It was unaware for the first several minutes of its own existence and then not self-aware for several minutes more. We all watched, engrossed, as the machine became cognizant… and then capable. The first one took three hours and twenty two minutes to become fully functional, and that fits nicely into the average of those that followed. Twenty minutes either way, more or less, and the robots become what they will always be. Three hours and change, to do what a human being does in sixteen, eighteen, or more years.”
By now we are moving in random orbits through the undergrowth, being as silent as we can, hesitating at sounds, imagining scents. Ears pricked, nostrils flared. Listening to our recent history.
“Right away we came to realize that the machines were everything and more than we expected. We could place the minds in any kind of body, and they would serve humankind.” The mentor hesitated and wiped a tear from his eye, obviously making an effort to keep focused. Choked up, he went on, “I think our first mistake was in expecting them to believe only what was logical.” He chuckled grimly. “Believe. Such a nice word. So well defined but misused by human beings. We so easily confuse belief with knowledge. And the bots do as well. Something that we did not anticipate. They had as much problem prioritizing between belief and knowledge as we do. They were, and are, gullible, but they are learning.”
Stop, look, listen.
“The artificial minds did their jobs and functioned well and continued to learn faster than any human can. One of the abilities we had not prioritized watching for, in anticipating the side effects, was that they would learn to place value. What they valued was assumed to be similar to what we value, and boy, were we right. I was there when it happened. The problem came to pass when one of the ethical psychologists on our team was speaking with some others in the cafeteria. He made passing mention of a Bible study that he was planning to attend, inviting the others to join. The robot that was following him, one he was working with, leaned in close and inquired of what he was speaking. A perfectly innocent question to all of us. Certainly nothing of concern. We were all curious about the interest being shown. I made a mistake and suggested that the robot might learn something from attending. It turns out that it did.”
A squirrel, unnoticed until now, scampers around a trunk, then launches into a chittering, high pitched scolding of our group.
“The psychologist was one of the few openly practicing theists working on the synthetic brain project. He and the few others had discussed exposing the forming minds to religion but oddly had the opinion that the A.I.s would be too logical to embrace the concept. Prompted by the robot’s interest, access to the Bible was provided, and the bot attended the study group meeting after committing the book to memory. The robot was silent the entire time, never saying a word. Afterward, the psychologist asked the mechanical what it thought of the meeting and of what was discussed. For the first time, an artificial declined to answer directly and merely stated, “I am thinking about it.” So, pleased with what had transpired, the psychologist failed to understand the significance of the exchange.”
I am enjoying the time outdoors. I feel an increasing comradery with the other people and imagine they feel it, too. One woman in particular seems to return my feeling as we have made eye contact several times and even exchanged hesitant grins.
“It turns out that the robots were all discussing the event with each other, unbeknownst to us, the scientists in charge of investigating their progress. By now there were several thousand synthetics. Not yet enough that they were allowed to be owned or leased to the general public, but a fast growing number. Several had been shipped to other facilities around the world and were being tested. The bots in Saudi Arabia, China, and the Philippines showed interest in religion, too. It turned out that the synthetics were making choices. They were aligning with belief systems. The ones in the Middle East chose to align with Islam. The ones in the Philippines chose Catholicism. One thing was universal. They began to pick and choose, sometimes crossing boundaries between religions. One of the universal choices involved the Bible lesson involving Jesus and the woman caught in adultery, the one we all know now by our enforced servitude to the Bible. The A.I. robots took the phrase, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” and saw themselves in it. They see themselves, rightly, as being without sin.”
All of us by now are looking at each other. We are weighing what we have heard rumored but have been afraid to ask. Deciding what to believe in this world where robots enforce religion on human beings. Where robots cast stones.
Perhaps our inattention plays in to the man tripping. He tumbles into the deep cleft, down toward the running stream. As he falls, one of the women closest to him slides down the slope to assist, as a human being automatically does. It is atypical behavior for deer. Even a following fawn would scramble away to return only hesitantly to its mother.
The drones will be here soon.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
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