In 1958, the year the illustrated children's book "What Do You Say, Dear?" appeared, the leaders of a field newly dubbed "artificial intelligence" spoke a conference in Teddington, England, on "The Mechanisation of Thought Processes."
Marvin Minsky, of M.I.T., talked about heuristic programming; Alan Turing gave a paper called "Learning Machines"; Grace Hopper assessed the state of computer languages; and scientists from Bell Labs débuted a computer that could synthesize human speech by having it sing "Daisy Bell" ("Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do...").
Or no, wait, that last bit, that's wrong. I heard about it from ChatGPT's Advanced Voice Mode, which might be merely half a Mars rover short of being a teeth-shatteringly terrifying marvel of the modern world but is as inclined to natter on about nonsense as the text-only mode, if more volubly. I gather that this is called hallucinating. Bell Labs did invent a machine that could sing "Daisy Bell," but that didn't happen until 1961.
Advanced Voice Mode also told me that thing about Alan Turing presenting a paper at Teddington in 1958, and, because its personality is wide-eyed and wonderstruck, it added some musings.
(Unlike standard Voice Mode-which involves recording your question and then uploading it, in a process that feels sluggish and, sweet Jesus forgive me, old-timey-Advanced Voice Mode talks with you in real time and inexhaustibly, like a college roommate all het up about Heidegger whispering to you in the dark from the top bunk at three in the morning.)
"It's fascinating to think how forward-thinking Turing was, considering how integral learning algorithms have become in modern A.I.," it said, dormitorially. But Turing had died in 1954, so he wasn't at the conference, either.
"I misspoke," Advanced Voice Mode said, abashed, when I gently pointed out these errors. "Thank you for catching that. My apologies for the confusion."
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der October 07, 2024-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der October 07, 2024-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
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YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”
COLLISION COURSE
In Devika Rege’ first novel, India enters a troubling new era.
NEW CHAPTER
Is the twentieth-century novel a genre unto itself?
STUCK ON YOU
Pain and pleasure at a tattoo convention.
HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
REPRISE
Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.
WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?
Whether you’re horrifying your teen with nauseating sex-ed analogies or watching TikToks while your toddler eats a bagel from the subway floor, face it: you’re flailing in the vast chasm of your child’s relentless needs.
COLOR INSTINCT
Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
THE FAMILY PLAN
The pro-life movement’ new playbook.
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.